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मैं रेत सी, बूँद का जरिया तू

पा के तुझे भीग जाऊँ रे
मैं रेत सी, बूँद का जरिया तू
पा के तुझे भीग जाऊँ रे

मैं तर जाऊँ, तर तर जाऊँ
दरिया ये तर जाऊँ जी
इश्क़ ये पाके मैं तेरा निखर जाऊँ री

पिया बस तेरी मैं
हो.. छू ले तो खरी मैं
तो खरी मैं खरी मैं

साथिया, माहिया

__________________________

The bell rang softly, marking the end of the last class of the week.

"Okay, the class ends here. I will meet you all on Monday. Enjoy the weekend," said Mrs. Ragini with her usual warm smile.

Noor smiled, too. Mrs. Ragini was her history teacher and probably the kindest teacher she had met in the last three days of college. There was something very gentle that made Noor respect her naturally.

As the teacher walked out, students slowly started talking again.

Samiksha, who was sitting right beside Noor, turned towards her with a teasing smile. "Aur kuch nahi bola Professor Dheer ne?"

[Didn't Professor Dheer say anything else?]

They were talking about Noor's visit to Professor Dheer's office before the class had started. But then the teacher came, and the conversation stopped midway.

Now, they were back to it.

Noor quietly shook her head,But Samiksha didn't stop.

"Chhoro bhai, tum ne bhi experience kar liya how mean that kanchi aakhon wala can go," Samiksha said, making funny faces.

[Leave it, yaar. Even you have now seen how mean that sharp-eyed man can be.]

That made Noor smile. She shook her head lightly again. Yes, she had seen how rude he could be. The way he spoke yesterday-cold, sharp, and almost insulting. But Noor wasn't the kind of girl who gave up easily. He had given her a deadline of two days to submit her file.

And she was going to complete it.

She clearly remembered the way he looked at her, the silent judgment in his eyes, like he didn't believe she could do it.

But she would prove him wrong.

With a soft breath, Noor started packing her bag. Her fingers moved slowly as her mind stayed tangled with thoughts of yesterday. But as she zipped her bag shut and pulled out her phone from the side pocket, her heart suddenly fluttered.

A message had just popped up.

"Have your lunch on time."

And then another one followed-

"Please."

A smile bloomed across her face.
Her fingers stilled on the phone. Her eyes stayed fixed on the screen. It was Siddharth.

He hadn't called her all day. He had left home early at 4 a.m. for the hospital. And ever since, not a single call or text. Noor knew he must be busy in the operation.

Even after knowing all this when Veer came to drop her off, it wasn't like alpaca. She never knew when this exactly happened...When his presence started feeling like air to her-something she needed to breathe.

She don't know how her love turned into obsession.

It was just 3 p.m. but the day already felt so long. Every minute dragged like an hour. She was craving his voice, his words... his warmth.

And now, one small message made everything feel lighter again.

She had never thought about it like this before, but today she suddenly realised how much she longed to lie beside him, just hold him and sleep. She missed his touch, his eyes on her. His shameless behavior.

Noor quickly shook her head to push away those thoughts. Still smiling, she typed:

"Aap bhi."
[You too]

Her smile stayed. It was one of those smiles that whispered to the world-I am so loved. As soon as she sent the message, she watched the single grey tick turn blue.

Her heart skipped.

He had seen it.

And then, before she could even hope for a reply, her phone started ringing. She didn't wait even a second and picked it up.

"Done with the college?" came his deep voice. Just hearing him after so many hours... made her heart beat fast. His voice was calm and low.

She couldn't say much. So she just hummed softly. "Hmm."

And then, after a short silence, she asked gently, "Kuch khaya aapne?"
[Did you eat something?]

"Man nahi tha." His voice was soft, almost breathless.
[I didn't feel like it]

Noor sat still. Her brows came together gently. He sounded... off. Not like her Sidharth.

"Kya hua aapko? Sab theek hai na?" Her voice was filled with worry now.
[What happened? Are you okay?]

There was a pause, and then she heard him take a deep breath.

"The surgery is postponed till 4 p.m. Bas wahi..."
[The surgery got postponed till 4 p.m. That's all...]

Noor didn't reply immediately. Her grip on the phone tightened just a little. She understood now.

He had told her about this surgery before-not much, but enough for her to know how much it meant to him. He didn't talk a lot about work, but this particular case was close to his heart. And now the delay was making him tense.

She hated hearing him like this.

He wasn't meant to sound like this. Her Aarth was supposed to sound strong, confident, and a little shameless when he spoke to her-not tired, not tense.

Taking a soft breath, she said slowly, her voice full of love and faith:

"Sab thik hoga, Siddharth ji. Aap tension mat lijiye. Bhagwan hai aapke saath."
[Everything will be okay, Siddharth ji. Don't worry. God is with you.]

Each word she said came from her heart. If there was one thing she ever wished from life-it was him. His happiness. His success. His peace.

She could bear anything-but not his pain.

On the other end of the call, Siddharth stayed quiet for a moment, then just hummed again. nd then she heard something-three soft knocks on a door.

Siddharth's voice came again, "1 minute, Cherry."

He didn't cut the call. She could hear him now talking to someone in the room.

A man's voice came from the background-polite but hurried. "Sir, the team has assembled in conference hall. They're waiting for your review on the scans."

Noor smiled faintly. Proud at her husband. But before she could drown in more thoughts, a sharp voice behind her called out-

"Mrs. Rajvardhan." Her body straightened up. The phone was still pressed against her ear. But her fingers tightened around it.

Slowly, she turned around.

And saw him-Professor Dheer.

The soft light in her eyes vanished. The smile faded completely from her lips. Her face turned neutral, unreadable.

She looked at him with a calm, straight expression.

"I need you to submit your notes... and my notes tomorrow. Right here."

Professor Dheer's voice was steady. Not loud. It's not urgent. Just... firm.

Noor didn't move. Not a blink, not a flinch. Her face stayed quiet-just like always.

"No matter the weekend. Submit it here." His voice cut through again, the same tone. Sharp in its calmness.

Noor still didn't respond. Her eyes remained on him, steady, without any clear expression. Neither annoyed nor accepting. Just blank.

And then, for a moment, Professor Dheer looked away from her. He glanced at someone standing beside. Samiksha.

The way he looks at her-there was something in it. Not wrong. It's not obvious. But something that Noor couldn't name.

And then, as quickly as he looked, his eyes were back on her.

One last glance. And he walked away.

Noor stayed still. Only her spine had been holding her up while he stood near. Now, with him gone, her body relaxed a little-just a little.

But a feeling remained. Crawling under her skin. Not fear. Not discomfort, either. Just something.

Something strange. Mysterious.

Something that her gut didn't like.

She couldn't tell what it was about him. He didn't stare at her in any wrong way. Didn't talk to her in any wrong tone. And yet, there was a pull inside her, quiet but strong, telling her one thing:

Stay away from him.

"Cherry? Veer aaya aapko lene?"

["Cherry? Did Veer come to pick you up?"]

Sidharth's deep voice came through the phone, still pressed softly to her ear.

And just like that-like a soft switch-Noor's heart is unclenched.

Her lips lifted into a small smile. She didn't said anything But she started walking, her eyes moved toward the college gate.

And there it was-his a black car. It's the same one from this morning.

Veer's car.

It stood quietly at the gate, waiting for her.

"Ha aaye hai."
["Yes, he's here."]

"Okay. Aap ghar jaiye. Mai rakhta hu. Aur ha... ghar jate aap lunch karengi. Hmm?"
["Okay. You go home. I'll hang up now. And yes... you'll eat lunch after going home. Hmm?"]

His voice was calm, but it held something only she could notice.

Concern.

Her smile deepened, just a little more.

"Ji."
["Yes."]

Just that. Soft and simple.

A second passed.

Neither of them cut the call.

Noor's hand stayed near her ear. She didn't speak. Neither did he.

But then, as if something inside her wished to not leave things incomplete, she softly said-

"Aap bhi... dhyan rakhiye ga."
["You too... take care of yourself."]

On the other side, she heard his breath.

Slow. It's still a little tight. Still not completely relaxed. She didn't say anything more.

.

.

.

.

The car was moving slowly through the campus gate.

Noor sat quietly in the back seat, her dupatta resting gently in her lap. Siddharth's voice still echoed in her mind. That tone. The way he spoke. There was something in it that didn't feel right.

He was tense. She felt it.

Without thinking, her fingers reached for the corner of her dupatta. She began twisting it softly between them-once, twice, again. Her hands looked calm, but inside her, something was not. She wasn't scared, but... it felt heavy. That tone of his-it wasn't like him. Not her Aarth

She looked down at her lap, biting the inside of her cheek.

She wanted to comfort him. But how can she? He was in hospital. In between a lot of people. But as she thought of this, a sentence flashed in her mind.

He's my husband...

Her fingers paused, still tangled in the dupatta. Her heart screamed at her.

He was her husband. And right now, he needed her.

She knew-that Siddharth was someone who never let the world see when he was hurting. but she also knew... he never hid it from her.

He always tried to sound calm for her. Always stayed steady. But today, she had heard something else in his voice-something he hadn't meant to show. Maybe even something he didn't know she would catch.

But she did.

She took a soft, deep breath-one that filled her chest, then left slowly. The car turned a little toward the main road.

Noor lifted her eyes toward the front seat. Her voice was not loud. It was barely there.

"Bhaiya?" she said.

Veer glanced at her through the mirror, his brows rising gently.

"ji bhabhi?"

"Inke hospital jana hai hume?"
(I want to go to his hospital.)

.

.

.

.

.

The file lay in front of me, a simple stack of papers but heavy with a weight I felt in my bones. I didn't need to look twice to know what it meant - Aryan's case wasn't just any surgery. It was a razor's edge, balanced on hope and risk.

My eyes traced the details again and again, but my mind wandered elsewhere, caught in the quiet storm I always tried to lock away.

Dr. Sinha's voice cut through the silence like a warning, sharp and steady.

"For the last time, You sure, Doctor Rajvardhan? If something happened to him-jiske chances bahut jyada hai-the hospital ka naam bahot kharab ho jayga. It's a high-class case."

I didn't look up. I leaned back slowly, the leather of the chair creaking beneath me, but my gaze never left the file. I knew. I knew exactly what this case was. The chances were like a coin toss-fifty-fifty. Either we could save the boy. The other half, we'd lose him forever.

And with that loss would come a shadow over my name, my reputation, everything I'd built. More than money, it was respect that was at stake. Trust. The fragile thread I held onto so tightly.

But still, I was willing to risk it all.

Because Aryan wasn't just a patient.

He was the first connection I'd felt in years. The first time, my heart stirred for someone other than Noor. Inside Aryan, I saw something I hadn't dared to look at before-the little boy I once was. That scared, silent child buried deep under layers of cold, strength, and distance.

My jaw tightened. A small clinch, almost unconscious, but enough to remind me of the weight I carried. That memory, always on the edge, creeping in when I least wanted it to. I closed my eyes for a moment, the pressure building like a storm in my chest.

My hand slid down, almost of its own will, into my pocket. My fingers brushed against the familiar shape - Noor's bangle, pressing soft against my palm.

The dark thoughts tried to crawl back in, the old shadows clawing at the walls I'd built. But I couldn't let them win. Not now. Not when everything depended on this moment.

Without turning, I finally spoke, voice low but steady. "High class or not, we have to save him."

I tilted my head just enough to meet Dr. Sinha's eyes. He understood. He knew, even if no one else did, how much this wasn't just another case for me. He stood, pushing his chair back with a quiet scrape on the floor. "Don't worry, Sidharth. Jaan laga dunga."

His words were simple, but they landed heavily between us.

As he left, I leaned back, letting the chair carry me just a little. My head fell against the leather, eyes closing against the weight of it all. My mind flickered back to that day - Aryan, clutching his toy car tight, the fear and hope mingling in his small voice.

"Doctor Siddharth, jab main uthunga na, tab main aisi car chala panga?"

That innocent question, soft and trembling, cracked open something I thought was sealed shut long ago. My heart - the part I kept guarded, opened & reserved only for my Noor - cracked just a little for that boy. For the first time in a long time, I was unsure. Unsure if I could protect, I was unsure if I could save him.

But I said what I had to say.

"Hmm, chala paoge."

The promise in my voice was fragile, but real. Because saving Aryan was more than medicine. It was about saving the child inside me. The one who deserved a second chance.

The pressure in my chest grew heavier, the air thick with unspoken fears. I pushed myself up, needing to move, to breathe outside the crushing silence. I walked over to the window, hands deep in my pockets as my breath came faster, harsher.

The past threatened to flood back-the dark corners of my mind. I kept locked tight. I touched Noor's bangle again, It was the only thing holding me upright. The only shield against the demons that whispered I would fail. that I was not enough.

I wanted her. To call her. To bury my face in the curve of her neck, to find peace in the warmth of her arms. My heart thundered with selfish desire, but I swallowed it down. Noor was tired. I could never be the reason for her burden.

So instead, I clenched the bangle tighter, feeling her calm seep through the cold metal into my skin.

This was new - the fear, the uncertainty, the hope battling in my chest. I was scared, but not for myself. For the boy. For the child inside me. For everything I could lose.

I closed my eyes again. The chaos in my mind was loud, wild - but the touch of Noor's bangle kept my demons at bay. I knew how easily they could consume me. How the thoughts that haunted me could tear me apart.

And then, suddenly, I felt it - a presence behind me, warm and steady. A hand slipped around my waist, pulling me close in a quiet, grounding hug. Slow. Soft.

I didn't have to turn to know who it was. My Noor. My eyes flew open. The storm inside me stilled, the scream of my demons silenced by the weight of her presence.

"Noor," I whispered, barely a breath.

That single name was my anchor, my surrender, my salvation.

Noor opened the door slowly & Her eyes found him instantly. Her husband. Standing near the large window, his tall figure half covered in light. His back was to her, his hands were inside his pockets, and his head was bowed - as if the whole world had suddenly become too heavy.

And somehow... even without seeing his face, she could feel everything.

Her heart ached a little.

Without thinking, without any sound, she walked towards him. Each step was slow, gentle. Her soft dupatta brushed against her side as she came closer. And then-without a word-she reached him and slowly slipped her arms around his waist from behind.

Her cheek pressed softly to the middle of his back. His broad, warm back.

She stayed still like that.

And in the very next second, she felt it.

His body.

So stiff.

So quiet.

So full.

As if it was holding too much inside.

But then... as her hands gently held him, and her face rested against him, his body... loosened, just a little. She felt it. That tiny shift. That small surrender.

The air changed.

Noor closed her eyes. She didn't say anything. And then she heard it.

So low.

So broken.

So full of something she couldn't explain.

"Noor."

Just her name. But it made her heart break and fill at the same time.

He stayed like that, frozen but breathing. Her hands were still around him, holding him gently but fully, not letting go. And then... slowly... he turned.

Still in her arms.

Still so close.

He turned to face her, and the world changed.

His eyes found hers. And for a second-maybe more-he didn't blink.

Didn't speak.

Didn't move.

He just... looked.

As if he couldn't believe she was real.

That she was here.

His brows lifted just a little, his eyes slightly wide, and his face looked like someone who had just found light after a long night.

He was staring at her as if his heart couldn't accept it.

Wasn't she supposed to be at home? Away from him?

How was she here?

Noor looked up at him, her cheek still near his chest, her hands still around him. She raised her face just a little more, her eyes meeting his. There was no sound between them. Just breath. Just the heavy, beautiful silence that love brings.

And then...

A small smile came to her lips.

Soft.

Warm.

Siddharth saw it. That tiny smile.

He stared.

Still not sure if this was a dream.

And then, still looking at her, he whispered again - slower this time, and softer, almost scared:

"Aap... sach mein hai, Noor?"
[Are you really here, Noor?]

His voice shook just a little.

Her smile widened, and her heart squeezed tightly. She wanted to giggle. Right there. At her husband. At the way he looked at her, as if she had walked out of a dream.

But she didn't.

She held back the giggle and instead smiled even more - the kind of smile that speaks louder than any word.

Then, Noor stood on her toes, slowly lifting herself up, her hands still wrapped around his waist. Her small frame tried to reach him, and one of her hands gently moved up, fingers finding his collar.

She held it softly.

And pulled him down.

Just a little.

But enought to pull him back to reality.

Then, her lips pressed a tiny, tiny kiss- right on the tip of his nose.

A soft peck.

Siddharth's eyes closed at the touch & then went wide opem- truly wide now - as if something inside him had snapped awake.

She was real.

She was here.

In his arms.

And just like that... the space between them disappeared. His arms, which were still hanging down, moved up. As if his body was finally remembering how to hold her.

His hand moved up slowly through the side slit of her kurti - his palm brushing against the bare skin of her waist.

Warm. Soft.

His hand rested there. He could feel her breath still warm near his lips.

Then... very slowly... Siddharth dropped his forehead down, letting it touch hers.

She was still on her toes.

And as she gently came back to her full height, their foreheads stayed together.

Still.

Breathing together.

The world outside was loud, full of fear, full of fight.

But in this moment... they were safe.

"Bharosa hua?"
(Do you trust me now?)

Noor whispered softly, their foreheads were still touching, a gentle warmth between them, like the silence after a storm.

Siddharth's lips, which had been pressed into a thin line, slowly curved into a smile - small, but real. His eyes still closed, he nodded his head a little, and the slight movement made Noor's smile grow just a bit wider. Siddharth's nod was like a silent surrender, a soft confession, and with his eyes still closed, he let out a slow breath - the kind that comes after holding too much inside.

In that quiet moment, he could feel the peace slowly settling inside his chest, the kind of peace he had been begging for... before he took the step. This step - it wasn't small. It was one of the most important steps of his life & career.

And now, that peace, the one he feared would never come, was right here. With her.

"Aapko kaise pata chala ki mujhe aapki jarurat thi?"
(How did you know that I needed you?)

Siddharth whispered again, so softly that only she could hear. Their foreheads were still attached, breaths mixing, silence pressing gently around them like a soft curtain. Noor's eyes were open now. She was looking at him - really looking. So close, her gaze held no questions, only answers. Her heart, full of love, full of Siddharth.

And in the same softness, the same depth, she whispered back,

"Aap hi kehte hai na ki Siddharth ke andar ab Siddharth se jyada aapki Noor basti hai...to bas pata chal gaya."
(You always say that now your Noor lives more inside you than Siddharth himself... so I just knew.)

Her words landed inside him like a prayer he didn't even realise he had made. Siddharth's heart skipped a beat - loud, fast, full. Something inside him shifted.

Slowly, his head dipped down, resting against her shoulder. Noor stayed still, her hands still around him. He held her closer - his fingers now curling gently around the bare skin of her waist. He pulled her close, so close that their bodies mixed together.

And then, like the deepest kind of need, Siddharth hugged her.

He buried his face into her neck, breathing her in. Jasmine. Sandalwood. Noor.

"Sach hi to bolta hu meri Noor se..."
(I only speak the truth to my Noor...)

he whispered against her skin, his lips grazing her neck like a quiet confession. Then, without pulling away fully, he lifted his face slightly, just near her ear. His lips, close - too close - whispered again. And Noor felt her grip around him tighten, her hands resting more firmly over his back.

Siddharth didn't move. He just stayed like that - close, buried, safe. The fears he carried were still there, but they weren't shouting at him anymore. They were sitting down. They were quiet. The fear of failure, of not being enough, of breaking something sacred - it was quiet now.

The only sound inside him... was her. Her presence. Her heartbeat. Her smell. Her warmth. Just his Noor.

He pulled her even closer, his hand tightening gently around her waist. Noor, who understood him without needing a single word, began rubbing his back slowly. Her touch was warm, soft - like the kind of comfort only one soul can offer to another. The tension in his body started to leave, not all at once, but little by little. He took a slow, deep breath, breathing in more of her - sandalwood, jasmine, and everything that made him feel alive.

Then, without warning, Siddharth tightened his hold around her and lifted her up gently - still with his face close to her neck, almost refusing to leave that comfort.

Noor's payal made a soft noise, Her bangles followed, a soft clink as she was held in his arms. He walked slowly, carefully - like carrying something precious -Then, without saying a word, he bent down slightly and made Noor sit on the sofa. Her eyes never left him. And even as she sat down, he didn't move far. He sat on the floor near her legs. Quiet. Steady.

Without saying anything, Siddharth bent forward and rested his face on her lap, like he was finally home. And then, slowly, his hand slid once again from the side slit of her kurti. His palm found her skin again, warm and soft, and he wrapped his arm gently around her bare waist.

Now he was holding the centre of his world - right there in his arms.

Dar lag raha hai, cherry."
(I'm feeling scared cherry)

Siddharth said slowly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Those were words Siddharth never thought he would say again. Fear-something he believed had left him long ago. His body, his mind, even his soul had left it behind somewhere far away. From childhood, which he spend alone, with the quiet fear that he would never face it again.

But now, in this moment, the fear was back, heavier and sharper than ever, forcing its way into the corners of his heart he thought were sealed shut.

He breathed out slowly, almost trembling, and the hardest words escaped his lips. Words he never imagined would come from him.

"Zindagi mein pehli baar khud pe bharosa nahi ho raha. Dar hai ki h-har jaunga."
["For the first time in my life, I don't trust myself. I'm afraid I will lose."]

Siddharth's voice was low, fragile almost, like a secret shared in the dark. The silence around them felt thick, heavy with everything unsaid. Noor's fingers moved gently, reaching up to his hair, to soothe. He leaned into her touch as if her presence alone could shield him from his fears.

Noor smiled softly at her husband, her heart aching to see this side of him-so real, so vulnerable. She brushed her hand slowly through his hair, her other hand rubbing comforting circles on his back without needing words.

Then she bent down, her face resting on his back, her small hand resting gently on the side of his neck.

"Hamare papa kehte hai ki insaan ko dar tabhi lagta hai jab woh uss chiz ko bahut siddat se chahta hai. Jab woh chiz dil se judi ho-"
["Our father says a person feels fear only when they want something very deeply. When that thing is connected to the heart-"]

Noor paused, her hand moving from his hair to gently cup his cheek. Her fingers caressed his skin with slow, careful movements.

Siddharth didn't speak.

He only closed his eyes, quietly... as if sealing that one moment inside him. A moment where the weight inside his chest didn't feel so heavy anymore. Where someone else-someone soft, warm, and completely his-was carrying it with him.

Noor's fingers were still holding his face gently, her small hands brushing against his cheeks.

Siddharth had never known peace like this before. Not in temples. Not in silence. Not even in the cold, sharp focus of his hospital Just here. In her lap. Under her breath. Inside her presence.

Just stayed still like a quiet child in her hold, breathing through her warmth, letting her presence stitch back pieces of him that no one else could even see were broken.

His lashes fluttered once, slowly, as if waking up from a long, cold sleep. Her words still ringing softly inside him.

He looked at her-not like a man, not like a doctor, not like someone who had seen the world and stopped believing in it-but like a boy. A boy who wanted to believe again.

The softness of her touch made Siddharth feel like a child again-safe and loved.

"Aur aap to use bacha ko dil se bachana chahte ho na... to yeh dar bura thoda hua."

["And you want to protect that child from your heart... so this fear isn't so bad."]

Her words made him look at her with a childlike innocence that felt foreign but beautiful. His hair was tousled, his face worn with exhaustion, yet Noor's heart warmed even more seeing him like this.

She lifted the edge of her dupatta gently and wiped his face with the soft fabric. Siddharth closed his eyes again, surrendering to her care.

His face still leaned into her touch, because he know, that just this-just this-was enough to hold him together.

And then Noor whispered-

"Aur haar ya jeet to insaan ke karam aur niyat pe nirbhar hoti hai, na?"
["And victory or defeat depends on a person's actions and intentions, doesn't it?"]

Her hand moved gently, still wiping the last traces of tiredness from his face with the edge of her dupatta. Siddharth kept his eyes closed, letting her take care of him, letting her believe for both of them.

She finished wiping his face but didn't pull her hand away.

Her fingers, reached up and cupped his jaw again. Her hands were tiny-like a child's, almost-but only Siddharth knew how heavy they were with meaning

Noor's other hand began to comb through his hair softly, her eyes never leaving his.

"Aur hume apni Aarth pe bharosa hai. Na woh apne karm chhodeinge na iss jure kisi admi ko chhorne denge. Aur niyat to apki pani ki tarah saaf hai. To khud pe sake kyu karte hai?"
["And we trust our own effort. It won't abandon its work nor leave the person connected to it. And your intentions are as clear as water. So why doubt yourself?"]

She looked deep into his eyes, and her words seemed to sink into the very core of his soul. A new, quiet strength began to build inside him-a fragile but real hope.

Siddharth smiled slightly, a small curve of lips that told Noor everything she needed to know about the storm inside him.

Still leaning on her touch, his cheek resting softly in her palm, he shook his head slowly and said with a quiet certainty, "Nahi karta."
["I don't doubt."]

Hearing this, Noor smiled.

She bent & presseda soft, warm kiss to his forehead-letting him feel her love.

Pulling back gently, still holding his face, she smiled and whispered, "Good boy."

Siddharth chuckled softly as Noor's innocent words. He tilted his head a little and pressed a soft kiss on the inside of her palm, still smiling.

Then, without saying a word, he rested his cheek gently against that same palm and closed his eyes for a second. Noor's touch was like calm water on fire.

When he opened his eyes again, they were deep and quiet, but full of something unspoken.

"Only for my Noor," he said.

Noor leaned down again and placed a kiss-gentle and full of affection-on his head.

And then, just like a tired boy, Siddharth slowly laid his head in her lap again. Noor looked at him-at her husband-and smiled softly at his innocence.

"Siddharth ji?" she whispered.

"Bas 5 minutes," he murmured, his voice muffled because his face was buried in her lap.
("Just 5 minutes.")

Noor gently ran her fingers through his hair, staying like that-quiet, peaceful. Siddharth breathed in slowly. Her words made him feel brave again. Confident.

After a few minutes, Noor looked down at him, still lying there.

"Chahiye ho gaya? Uthiye," she said softly.
("It's done now,Get up now.")

"Jaiye, muh dho ke aaiye. Ab ye Siddharth ko bhagaaye aur humare Aarth ko wapas le kar aaiye."
("Go wash your face. Now chase away this Siddharth and bring back our Aarth.")

Her voice had -a soft smile hidden in her tone. She touched both his shoulders and gently helped him sit up.

Siddharth obeyed like a child, letting her guide him. Noor stood up and offered her hand toward him. He took it. Her small hand was warm and soft in his.

Siddharth chuckled lightly, seeing how sweetly she was acting, like a little teacher scolding her student. That smile was finally back on his face.

Noor walked ahead of him, leading the way to the attached washroom in his hospital cabin. Siddharth followed silently, his eyes on her back, watching her every move. He didn't question anything. This was her right. She could do anything with him. And he would let her.

There was a soft joy in him-a small amusement-how he secretly loved it when his Noor took care of him like this. When she scolded him sweetly, ordered him around with love. He felt seen. He felt loved.

Noor opened the tap of the sink and looked at him.

With just her eyes, she gestured-come here.

Siddharth smiled again. Amused. He walked toward her and stood beside her, and obeying her silent command, began washing his face.

He splashed water on his face once, twic. Noor stood close, watching him, making sure he did it properly.

"4 bajne wale hain. Aap jaiye aur apni Noor ko proud hone ka ek aur mauka dijiye," she said.

("It's almost 4 o'clock. Go now and give your Noor one more reason to be proud of you.")

Siddharth looked at her, and something softened in his eyes. Saying this She took the end of her dupatta, stepped forward, and carefully wiped his wet face. Her touch was so soft. Siddharth closed his eyes.

He took in her scent-mild, familiar. He breathed her in. Deep.

This-this moment-this was peace.

"Hum ghar pe aapka intezar karege... ki aap aayenge aur hume gale se laga kar bolenge ki 'Noor, we were successful,' aur hum badle mein aapko dher saara pyaar karege," she said, still wiping his face.

("I'll wait for you at home... for the moment you'll come, hug me and say, 'Noor, we were successful,' and in return, I'll give you lots and lots of love.")

He smiled again. A bigger, brighter smile.

Noor stepped back, and her dupatta slipped from his face. Siddharth opened his eyes, feeling light-free. Her love had cleaned not just his face, but his mind too.

She held his hand again-his big hand in her small one-and turned to leave.

"Hmm?" Siddharth said softly from behind.

Noor turned and saw him smiling, his tone like he was asking a question.

She nodded gently.

"Hmm," she replied.

She walked back to him, still holding his hand. She led him to his chair. Her other hand pushed the chair back, and with soft pressure on his shoulder, she made him sit.

Siddharth didn't say a word. He just obeyed.

He looked up at her. She looked down at him.

She then, walked closer to him & stepped between the table and the chair, standing right in front of him. Her body shielded him from the world, from everything else that wasn't them.

She bent slightly, her soft smile resting on her lips, and brought her hand up to hold his chin gently between her fingers. Demanding his full attention. Siddharth's lips curved into the smallest smile, and his eyes twinkled with an amused light-watching his shy, soft wife become the caretaker of his entire soul.

With delicate fingers, Noor began fixing his slightly messy hair, combing them slowly with her hand, lovingly, like it was something she was born to do.

"Hum aapke pasandida saree pehnege..." she said softly, looking down into his eyes.
[I'll wear your favorite saree.]

"Aapki laayi churi aur bindi pehnge..."
[I'll wear the bangles and bindi you brought.]

"Bahot saara taiyaar honge aapke liye..."
[I'll get all dressed up just for you.]

"Aapka saara pasandida khana banayenge."
[I'll cook everything you love.]

Her voice was low and full of warmth-every word soaking into Siddharth's heart like sunlight through curtains. He looked up at her, completely forgetting the tension that had gripped his body all day. Her devotion wasn't loud-it was quiet, rooted, real. And it made his chest feel warmer than anything else ever could.

Without a word, his hand moved up to her waist. First over the fabric of her kurti... and then, gently, under it-fingertips resting against her skin, drawing her a little closer to him. Noor noticed the touch mid-sentence. Her breath faltered just for a second, and her eyes flicked down to meet his.

She said nothing-only lifted her other hand and gently flicked his nose, her smile still soft and glowing. Siddharth noticed the way her cheeks turned just a little red with that, and he smiled wider-so softly Noor kept combing his hair carefully, patiently, making sure every strand was where it belonged.

And then Siddharth leaned forward, wrapped his arms around her waist fully, and pulled her even closer-resting his chin against her stomach as he looked up at her like a child completely in love with the person.

"Aur?" he asked softly.
[And?]

Noor looked down at him, eyes full of love. He was smiling now-her Aarth Her husband. Her safe place. The man she had quietly fallen in love with every single day.

Her fingers left his hair, and with the same hand that still held his chin, she lowered her gaze and whispered,

"Aur... aur aapko hum apne haathon se khilayenge."
[And... I will feed you with my hands.]

Siddharth's arms circled her waist more firmly now, and with a soft tug, he pulled Noor gently down onto his lap. She settled into him like she belonged there. Because she did.

Siddharth leaned back slightly in the chair. His simple shirt had two buttons open, and with a relaxed motion, he rested his elbow on the armrest. Then he placed his chin on his palm, head tilted slightly as he looked at her.

He just looked. Quietly. Intensely. His gaze didn't waver, as if watching her was the only thing he wanted to do for the rest of the day. He loved when she acted like this-sweet, caring, softly in control. Noor. His Noor.

Still sitting on his lap, Noor turned slightly towards him, her small smile still intact, and whispered,

"Aur? Aur phir aapko hum hamari god mein sir rakh ke apni poore din ki baatein sunayenge."

[And? And then I'll place your head on my lap and tell you everything about my day.]

Siddharth's smile deepened. He wrapped both his arms around her from behind, encircling her waist and pulling her closer until her back pressed against his chest. He placed his chin on her shoulder, the gesture full of intimacy.

"Aur?" he asked again, teasingly, as if he never wanted this little game to end.

Noor tilted her head slightly towards him, her soft cheek brushing against his. A tiny frown formed on her face, and she playfully pressed her nose against his. Siddharth chuckled lowly and leaned in to press a tender kiss on her cheek.

"Aur? Aur kya chahiye aapko?" she whispered back, almost accusingly.
[And? What else do you want now?]

Her tone was playful but gentle, still turned toward him slightly, her body resting so easily against his. Siddharth didn't answer right away. He just smiled-a smile so full that it reached his eyes and stayed there. Noor watched how the corners of his lips twitched, and something inside her told her he was thinking something mischievous-something she probably wouldn't like.

She didn't move though.

She stayed like that, resting softly against him, her head still turned. And then, without warning, Siddharth leaned in again and kissed her other cheek. Slowly, sneakily, his lips moved towards her ear, and he whispered in a low voice-

"How about--"

His fingers tightened gently around her waist, watching her expression. His lips barely holding the smile imagining her reaction.

"After you're done loving me and feeding me," he added with a slow smile, "you give me my favorite dessert as a reward."

Noor's eyes lifted to meet his, a warm smile spreading on her lips. "Dessert?" she asked, her voice soft and curious. "Kya chahiye, batayiye?"
("Dessert? What do you want, tell me?")

Siddharth shifted just enough to rest his chin lightly on her shoulder, his breath warm against her skin. Slowly, he leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered,

"You... in that red nightdress Cherry."

His words came out huskier than he meant, and he pulled back just a little to watch her reaction.

Noor's brow furrowed slightly, confusion flickering in her eyes. Then, almost in a heartbeat, her cheeks flushed a soft pink.

She remembered.

Her eyes widen hearing him & with lips parted. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. Her mind which was filled with there soft talk filled with embarrassment & the anger that comes along. She quickly got up from his lap glaancing back at him with a mix of mock annoyance and something sweeter hiding in her eyes.

Siddharth stayed seated, watching every move, the playful grin on his face deepening as she narrowed her eyes.

"A-Aap-" she started, her voice shy, cheeks still rosy.

He stood slowly, his gaze warm but teasing. Taking a step toward her, he said, "Main kya, Cherry?"
("What about me, Cherry?")

Noor's eyes dropped to the floor, then lifted to meet his again, the color in her cheeks growing deeper.

Without a word, Siddharth slid his hand gently around her waist and pulled her closer. Noor's hand landed on his chest which she tried pushing away with the same annoyance, but he held her steady, his smile soft and steady.

"100 besharam banne ka socha hoga Bhagwan ne, tab ek laute aapko banaya hoga."
("God must have thought of making 100 shameless men, but made only one-you.")

Noor gave a light slap on his chest, playful and quick, and tried to wiggle free.

He tightened his hold just enough to stop her moving, but kept his touch gentle. His smile grew, enjoying this little fight.

Then, carefully, he lifted her chin between his fingers, making her stop and look up at him, her cheeks still glowing.

He leaned in and pressed a soft, quick kiss to her lips-warm and tender.

"Bhagwan ne bas ek bhuri aankhon wali ko bana diya mujhe... aur unhe dekh kar 100 logo ki besharmi mere andar aa gayi."
("God made just one brown-eyed girl for me... and seeing her, the shamelessness of a hundred men came into me.")

He kissed the tip of her nose softly, the smile still playing on his lips.

"Bhuri aankhon wali hai hi itni pyari... jadoo kar diya mujhpe."
("The brown-eyed girl is just so cute... she has cast a spell on me.")

Noor narrowed her eyes, opening her mouth to say something.

"Jadoo? Humne?"
("Spell? Me?")

She pushed him lightly, making Siddharth throw his head back and laugh, his eyes full of love and amusement at her cute stubbornness.
.
.
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.
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"Ghar pahuch ke ek message kar dijeaga."
(Text me when you reach home.)

I opened the car door for her, but my eyes didn't move from her face even for a second. Noor sat without looking at me. Her cheeks? Still burning. Her fingers? Clutching the end of her dupatta like it was the only thing keeping her alive right now.

I knew why. And the reason made me chuckled again.

We had just stepped out of the gynecology department. After I was done apologizing about my language & mind she agreed to go to meet the doctor.

It was my hospital. My staff. And still-still, she couldn't meet my eyes.

The doctor had asked questions, and I had seen her jaw tighten with shame with every word. She had answered them all, but now she was quiet. Angry at me? probably. Shy, definitely. Embarrassed? Without a doubt.

I leaned one arm on the open car window, the other resting on the edge of the roof. Her side. She didn't look up. And that-just that-made something twist in my chest. She was silent, but I could hear every thought in her head.

She sat stiffly, twisting the cloth of her dupatta again and again between her fingers. I didn't need her to speak. I knew she was overthinking. That was the thing about her-she spoke less, but her actions... they always told me everything.

I let out a soft breath and smiled.

My eyes moved past her to the figure standing a few metres away-my younger brother, giving us our moment, looking away as if this was some movie scene he didn't want to interrupt.

He's smart. He knows when I need privacy.

I looked back at her.

God.

She was sitting so quietly, not even knowing how hard it was to look at her and not touch her. My wife. My Noor. Dressed simply, sitting there like she didn't just mess up my entire heartbeat by just existing.

I bent forward.

One arm braced on the car. One hand pressed against the other side of the window. My knees on the edge of the backseat, and me leaning in-invading her space, because I couldn't help it anymore.

She still didn't look up.

So I tilted my head and kissed her.

Her lips were soft. Warm. Slightly parted from surprise, but not fully. Not yet.

I pressed deeper.

My tongue brushed her lower lip gently, asking-not demanding-but asking her to let me in.

My hand moved from the car's frame to her face, cupping her cheek gently. She was so still, but I could feel the way her lashes fluttered, the way her breath skipped.

She didn't expect this. Not here.

But I made sure-no one could see. Her window was shaded, our angle hidden. I would never embarrass her. Never. I would burn in this want alone, if it ever meant she'd feel shame in my touch.

She didn't open her lips. So I bit. Softly.

A sharp gasp.

My tongue slid inside her mouth, tasting her, claiming her like I hadn't already done it a thousand times in my head since morning.

Fuck! I was addicted.

I kissed her with all the hunger I had held back. Not rough. Just deep. Long.

And when I pulled back, her breath was uneven. Her cheeks were even more red. Her lips slightly wet. Her eyes? Looking at me. Then down. Then back at me again.

And again.

That one second of eye contact-just one-burned more than the whole kiss.

I kept our foreheads pressed together. My breathing matched hers.

"I needed my luck with me today," I whispered, voice hoarse, low, like a prayer being confessed at a temple.

Her eyes met mine again. Just for a second. And then she looked away.

I smiled.

Even now-after all we have already did-she couldn't hold my gaze. That innocence. That hesitation. That shyness even when my lips had just owned hers.

It kills me & makes me alive at the same time.

It makes me want to skip heartbeats just watching her breathe.

I leaned in again, brushing my lips against hers once.

Twice.

Thrice.

But the fourth time, I felt it.

A small pressure against my chest.

I looked down.

Her hands.

She was pushing me away, just slightly, just enough to tell me this is the limit now.

I understood. & let go of her cheek, only to catch her wrist.

I held it gently and brought her hand to my lips. I kissed her open palm. Right in the center.

"Bye," I whispered, still holding her wrist.

She looked up at me again.

Still pink. Still shy. Still mine.

And then... she smiled.

A tiny smile. Barely there.

But I saw it.

She looked down, took a slow breath in, and finally said, "All the best."

Her voice was so soft. So quiet.

But it rang in my ears louder than anything else.

I smiled wide.

Because that was enough.

My luck was sealed. My day was blessed.

Because my luck didn't lie in signs or stars-it was sitting right in front of me, cheeks red, eyes shy, and lips freshly kissed.

I stepped back and closed the door gently.

Veer walked towards me, fOur eyes met. He gave a small smile, a slight nod.

I nodded back.

Then the car began to move.

My eyes followed her. I didn't blink. And just as the car passed the hospital gate, a hand came out the window.

She was waving. And then a small figure come in my sight.

Just her eyes.

And she was looking at me.

I smiled so wide it almost hurt.

I raised my hand and waved back.

And just like that-she was gone.

Out of sight.

But God knows... never out of me.

The gate shut behind her.

Her car disappeared down the curve of the road. I stood there, staring at the space it left behind.

Then I turned, slow and quiet, and walked back inside. The air inside the building was cold, too quiet. I didn't notice it much-my hand had already slipped into my pocket.

And there it was.

Round. Smooth. Hers.

Noor's bangle.
I touched it lightly, and like she was again standing in front of me her face appeared, I remembered that stubborn kind of angry she carries like a shield-sharp, fast, beautiful.

All because of a word I mentioned intentionally to make her angry.

"Red nightly."

I remembered the way her eyes widened. The horror in her voice.
Even now, thinking of her flustered face, her breath catching in the middle of her scolding, made my jaw twitch with a smile.

But then a uninvited, dark & sinful image appears in my mind.

The image. The one I hadn't seen. The one she had painted so clearly with her own reactions.

Her... in that red nightie. Her arms crossed, lips parted. Waiting for me.

My fingers tightened around the bangle. My blood warmed. A pulse somewhere in my throat.

Control.

I opened my eyes again. But the memory didn't stop.

Just after that, when I told her about the gynecologist appointment-her eyes had changed. Not angry anymore. Just... disbelief.

I chuckled while walking as I remember what she said.

"Aap baat kar lijiye na...aap samjha dijiye hume. Aap bhi toh doctor hai."

(You speak to them... you'll explain it to me. You're a doctor too...)

And then... she had looked down.

Didn't meet my eyes. Just looked at her own feet, like they were suddenly more interesting than anything in the world. And when I asked why?

She whispered,

"H-hume sharam aati hai."

(I-I feel shy.)

And without meaning to, I laughed. The kind of laugh that slips out when you're too full and don't know what else to do with it.

Then-

"Sir?"

I came out of my thoughts when I heard that voice- I hadn't noticed the nurse until she was standing right there.

"Sir, everything's ready. They're waiting for you."

The laugh died.

My lips straightened. The warmth from my eyes vanished like someone had turned off a switch. I nodded once.

No words.

I slipped the bangle back into my pocket and walked.

To the changing room.

Removed the watch. Shirt. Folded neatly. Nothing left of me now-only the doctor.

Scrubbed hands. Sterile gloves. Green scrubs. Mask. Cap. Routine. Mechanical.

I stepped into the OT.

Silence.

Machines hummed softly. Lights above. Staff ready.

And there-Aryan.

Small.

Too still.

His chest rose slowly, machine-assisted. His body too light for the wires he was attached to. But his name burned like iron in my head.

Aryan.

The boy I promised to save. Not as a doctor.

But as Siddharth Singh Rajwardhan.

And when I make a promise-it does not break.

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.---

It had been three hours.

I was still standing in the same spot. My arms folded tightly, jaw locked. The silence of that room was louder than any scream. Aryan's little body was lying on that table, covered in wires, tubes, and machines blinking like it meant something. I could hear the beeping. The steady pulse. It was stable.

But my chest was not.

I kept my eyes fixed on the monitor. Not blinking. Not moving. Just watching.

The risk I had taken, it was still floating in the air. I was waiting for it to either fall on my head like a curse or settle down softly like a hope. And every minute that passed, the weight in my chest got heavier.

I breathed in through my nose. Slowly. Deeply. Trying to keep it all together. My fingers were digging into my arms now, tightly folded. I didn't even notice. The beeping was still steady. Still there.

Then the nurse walked in. She came close, whispered something to the head surgeon. I couldn't hear. But I saw his face change. I saw the movement of his hand.

And then-

The beeping changed.

I straightened. I didn't move fast. I didn't run. I didn't ask what happened. I just stood straighter.

The pulse was dropping.

Not a lot. Not suddenly. But enough to bring that coldness back into my spine.

I walked in.

The silence broke the moment I entered. Eyes turned to me. I didn't say anything. Just looked at the monitor. The numbers were falling-slowly, but falling.

"Sir, we might need to-" someone began.

"I know," I said, cutting them off.

There was one last thing we could try. One injection. One chance. 50-50.

Either it brings him back or it doesn't.

I took the syringe in my hand. My fingers were still. Steady. But the inside of me was shaking in places no one could see. I looked at Aryan.

He was still. His chest rising in small, broken motions. His hands looked like they couldn't hold anything. Not even life.

I closed my eyes for a second. & took a deep breath. Either God will give my ruined childhood a chance tonight or will kill the leftover life u have.

I opened my eyes. Breathed in.

And then, I pushed the injection.

The syringe emptied into his veins, slowly. My eyes didn't leave the monitor.

The line on the screen stayed still for a second.

Then...

His pulse dropped further.

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.

The clock on the wall ticked softly, but I barely noticed at first. My eyes were fixed on the pages in front of me, trying to study, but my mind was somewhere else. When I finally looked up, the clock showed nine. Nine at night. It felt late, though the house was still so quiet. Outside, the rain had started-soft, gentle drops falling one by one. It wasn't even the season for rain. Strange, how the sky had opened up just today.

I closed my notebook slowly and looked out the window for a moment. The rain made everything feel colder, lonelier somehow. I thought about Siddharth ji. About how long he had been in the operation theater now-more than five hours. Five hours since I came back.

I trust Siddharth ji. Always. He is so strong, so sure of himself. The man who never loses control. But when I met him this afternoon, his face was tense. His eyes held a quiet worry, one he tried hard to hide. I smiled for him. I tried to bring a little peace to his heavy heart. For a moment, it seemed to work. But now, sitting here alone, I wonder how he is really holding up. I know he will not let anyone see him break.

I wanted to call him once, just to hear his voice. But I didn't. I knew he wouldn't pick up. Not now. Not when every second counts inside that room. So I sat in the quiet, with the rain tapping softly on the glass, and I prayed. Prayed with all my heart that Siddharth ji will keep his promise to himself-the promise to save that child. Not just because it is his duty, but because that child means something more.

My hands rested on the notebook again, but the words didn't come. My eyes closed, and I breathed in slowly. The rain fell outside, slow and steady. And in that moment, I held my love tightly inside, hoping it would be enough to bring him home safe.

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Authors pov-

The night had grown too quiet.

Rain was pouring heavily, dancing on the rooftop, slipping down the edges of the veranda. Noor stood there, barefoot, her arms folded, her soft cotton saree a little damp from where it touched the edge of the floor. It was cold, but she didn't move. She stood still at the very front of the veranda, just a step before it ended, her eyes fixed on the main gate.

It was almost two in the morning.

She hadn't heard anything. No message. No call. Nothing. And yet, her heart had been loud all night. She had tried to lie down earlier. She had even tried to close her eyes. But her body was too restless. Her skin itched from the tiredness of the day-college, then hospital, then some work after that. Her eyes were hot from lack of sleep. Her shoulders ached. But the bed felt cold without him. It was too big. Too empty.

Without Siddharth next to her, sleep didn't feel possible.

She had walked here and there in the house, trying to distract herself. But she kept ending up here, in the veranda. Facing the gate. Staring into the dark. Hoping.

Her fingers were cold now. Her heartbeat was not. It was fast. Like it was trying to reach him.

And then-headlights cut through the night. A car entered the gate.

Noor's breath caught. Her spine straightened.

She took one slow step forward, and stood at the edge of the veranda, where the shade ended. The rain was still falling. Strong, heavy. She didn't care.

The car stopped.

It was his.

Her eyes didn't blink.

The driver's door opened. And then she saw him.

Siddharth stepped out slowly. His shirt was the same one he had left in-white, but now wrinkled, the top buttons open. His sleeves were rolled up, his shirt half untucked. Rain hit his face, soaked his hair, but he didn't stop. He just shut the door gently behind him, and then looked up.

Their eyes met.

Noor didn't move. Neither did he.

The rain fell between them, loud and steady. But their silence was louder.

There was something about the way he looked at her tonight. She couldn't name it. But her chest tightened, seeing it in his eyes.

He walked toward her, slowly, step by step, letting the rain hit his shoulders, soak his shirt. But he didn't look away. And neither did she.

When he reached her, he stopped-just in front of her, close enough that she could feel the coldness of the rain from his skin.

Noor looked up at him.

He didn't speak. But she saw it.

Something had happened. She didn't know what. But she saw it on his face. The kind of silence that only came after something too big to say.

Her heart skipped a beat. A sharp fear ran through her-was he not able to save the child?

But she pushed that thought away.

His eyes were too full.

And then-he moved closer. Quietly.

His hand slid around her waist. Warm, steady. He pulled her gently to him. And then, he buried his face in the curve of her neck.

Noor froze for a second.

Her breath caught again. Her fingers opened and closed once near her sides. And then slowly, she brought her arms up and wrapped them around him.

She didn't ask anything. She just held him.

She could feel him breathing against her skin. Deep, uneven. He was not crying. But something inside him was soft tonight. Too soft.

She stood there, still as a shadow, holding him. Letting him lean. Letting him be.

The rain didn't stop.

After a moment, his arms tightened around her. Noor didn't say a word.

Then slowly, Siddharth moved. His face lifted slightly from her neck, and she felt the trail of his nose brushing softly along her skin. From her neck to her ear. Slowly. As if he needed to feel she was real.

His lips stopped near her ear.

His arms were firm now around her waist. Noor could hear everything-his heartbeat, fast and hard, even through the sound of the rain. She could feel it like it was inside her own chest.

And then, in the softest whisper, he spoke.

"It was successful, Cherry."

As soon as Sidharth's voice dropped in her ears, Noor froze.

For a second, the words didn't register. But the very next moment... it did.

Her wide eyes slowly lifted. Her body still pressed against his, but her head tilted slightly as she looked up at him.

Siddharth had pulled back just a little. Their chests were still together - the heat between them unbroken - but now, their faces were apart. Noor looked at him closely, and noticed how his eyes were glassy.

Not wet. Just glossy. As if they had burned silently for too long.

And then, a smile - not small - etched itself on Siddharth's lips.

He still had his arms around Noor, but his voice came out softer this time.

"We did it, Noor."

That one line.

That one smile.

Noor's whole body slowly loosened up, like someone had finally removed a hundred knots from inside her. Her breath came out shaky, Her husband was smiling - he was smiling. That was enough.

She didn't even realise that her eyes had started to fill up.

She hugged him. Slowly. Her arms came around his back and she pressed her face against his chest. His heartbeat was steady.

And for the first time that day - she felt peace.

They stayed like that. Wrapped into each other. Then slowly, Noor pulled back. Her face had a full, glowing smile now. The kind of smile that stays even when your eyes are still heavy with tears.

And Siddharth smiled back - just as wide.

She lifted both her hands and gently cupped his cheeks. He leaned into her touch like it was instinct, like it was home.

Noor stood there, still smiling, and leaned forward to press a kiss on his forehead.

Then whispered softly,

"Congratulations, Doctor Siddharth."

Siddharth let out a soft chuckle. His chest shook with it, but his smile didn't leave. He nodded gently, eyes not leaving hers.

Then he pulled her closer again.

Tighter.

Even as he hugged her, he leaned in and lifted her slightly with him. His grip around her waist tightened. And then his hand slid down her back, slow and steady - firm but gentle - and he cupped her bottom, lifting her more securely in his arms.

The rain still poured outside.

The chill still touched their wet skin.

But in his arms, Noor was warm. He buried his face in her neck, his lips brushing softly against her skin.

His voice came out lower this time. Raw.

"Thak gaya hoon, Noor. Sukoon chahiye ab."
("I'm tired, Noor. I need peace now.")

Noor's hand moved up, reaching the back of his head. Her fingers softly ran through his wet hair.

She whispered back,

"Aapka sukoon to aapke paas hi hai, Aarth."
("Your peace is already with you, Aarth.")

He didn't move.

His breath warmed her skin. She could feel him smiling softly into her neck.

And then he started walking.

The whole house was silent. Everyone was asleep. Only the sound of his quiet footsteps and the tiny noise of Noor's payal could be heard.

His shirt had soaked in the rain, making her saree wet too - but Noor didn't care. Her eyes were closed. Her head rested on his shoulder.

Siddharth's eyes were open - focused, calm - but his lips and nose stayed pressed into her skin. Her scent - soft jasmine and sandalwood - numbed every other thought in his mind.

He walked up the stairs. Slowly.

Then towards their room.

He gently pushed the door open with his leg, still holding Noor in his arms.

Inside the room, the lights were off. Only a soft lamp glowed in the corner. Siddharth walked in and finally stopped.

He lowered Noor slowly, letting her feet touch the floor, but didn't remove his hands.

His palms slid up her back - from her bottom to her bare waist - in a slow, loving motion. Then they settled there. Noor looked up at him again, still smiling. Still glowing.

And that's when he stilled. Just for a second.

His eyes locked onto her face.

And something inside him... shifted.

His fingers moved up - slowly - and cupped her chin.

Her smile didn't fade. Her breath was light. Her body soft in his arms.

But Siddharth's eyes...

They changed.

He tilted her head slightly and looked at her with quiet intensity.

And suddenly - out of nowhere - his mind went back.

To the boy on that table.

That child. That tiny, limp body. When the pulse dropped. His hands had frozen mid-suture. Time had blurred for a second.

He wasn't a man who panicked easily.

But in that one second - that one small second - a sharp pain had shot through his chest.

A whisper had echoed in his head, "We lost him."

But then...

A beep.

One beep.

The pulse came back. Slowly. Weak. But it came.

Siddharth remembered how his fingers had trembled once - just once - before he forced them steady again.

He didn't blink. He didn't breathe.

But something had stayed inside him.

Something unfinished. Something burning.

He didn't cry. He didn't smile. He just stood quietly after it ended. Like a machine who forgot it was human.

And now...

Looking at Noor.

Touching her.

Feeling her real and warm in his arms...

It hit him.

He had survived something big today.

Not just the child.

Himself.

He had survived himself.

Because all his life, Siddharth had known how to carry pain. How to keep walking after bleeding. How to live with wounds stitched shut from the inside.

But joy?

He didn't know where to keep it.

He didn't know how to hold joy.

So it overflowed.

Because Siddharth never learned how to handle happiness.

He only knew how to carry pain.

And now the joy - this strange, soft, gentle joy - had nowhere to go. So it spilled infront of Noor.

He leaned down slowly. Eyes closed.

And pressed a kiss on her lips.

Like she was the only place his emotions could ever go.

Her scent surrounded him. Jasmine. Sandalwood. Her warmth.

His kiss was slow - not rushed - not needy. Just deep.

And Noor responded softly. Her hand moved from his hair down to his neck. Her fingers wrapped around his gold chain and held it tightly.

Siddharth's palm slid gently over her back again, over the bare skin exposed from her blouse.

He kissed her a little more. Lost. Alive.

And when they finally pulled back, both of them were breathing heavily.

Their foreheads rested against each other.

Siddharth's eyes opened slowly, finally calm. Finally at peace. Noor's eyes were closed. Her lips were still parted slightly. She was smiling.

He whispered,

"Thank you, Mrs. Noor Siddharth Singh Rajvardhan."

Then he tilted his head again and softly pressed three small kisses on her lips.

She didn't stop him. She only smiled wider. And Siddharth he just stared at her.

Because when everything finally goes right... sometimes your heart doesn't know how to feel it.

But he knew one thing.

Only she - only his Noor - had ever been able to hold his joy, his sorrow, his pain, his madness.

Siddharth didn't move. He just stared. Drank in every line of her face. Every softness of her mouth. Every blink of her lashes.

This woman.

She had become his home. His mirror. His breath.

And even if the world stayed cold...

This warmth in his arms - this softness in his chest - was enough.

Noor's hands moved gently, cupping Siddharth's face.

Their foreheads were still resting against each other, skin touching softly. His breath was warm on her lips. Her fingers moved a little, brushing over the slight stubble on his jaw. His skin felt warm, a little rough, but familiar... comforting.

She slowly opened her eyes.

And he was already looking at her.

His eyes were tired, red at the corners, but soft... full of something that made her heart beat slow and fast at the same time.

Love.

Real. Deep. Silent love.

She blinked once and whispered, voice like air,

"Thak gaye ho na... change kar lijiye warna tabiyat kharab ho jaayegi."

("You're tired, right? Please change or you'll fall sick.")

Siddharth didn't say anything at first.

Just pulled back slowly - only a little - not breaking the moment. But even as he moved, he didn't let go of her hand.

His fingers stayed wrapped gently around hers, warm and firm, like he didn't want her to go far.

He turned, still holding her, and walked to the chair nearby. The heavy wooden chair creaked a little as he sat, but he didn't stop looking at her.

Then he tugged on her hand slightly, like calling her closer again, and said softly,

"Karwa dijea"

("Make me change.")

His voice was low. A little playful. A little too gentle. Noor shook her head at his childish action. A soft laugh escaped her lips.

Still smiling, Sidharth raised her hand again. His thumb brushed over her knuckles. Then, slowly, he brought her fingers to his lips. He kissed them - not once, but twice.

Her breath caught.

That quiet obsession in his eyes made her cheeks warm.

Then he looked up at her, not blinking, and whispered,

"Please."

That single word.

So soft. So full of control... and love.

Noor nodded, her and stepped closer - slowly - her knees brushing the inside of his parted legs. She stood between them now. Close.

Her fingers went to the top button of his shirt.

She was careful. Gentle.

One by one, she undid them. The shirt loosened slightly, exposing the skin underneath. Her eyes didn't look there yet - she focused on her fingers. Her hands were small against his broad chest.

Siddharth's hands moved too.

They went to her waist, sliding beneath the loose fabric of her pallu. His palms rested against her bare skin, his thumbs brushing slow circles near her spine.

Noor's breath hitched.

She tried to stay calm, her fingers moving again, opening more buttons.
Then he moved.

Siddharth leaned back into the chair, his hands leaving her waist, giving her space. But his eyes - they didn't leave her. Not for a second.

Now, they were almost face to face. Her lips close to his. Her breath light against his neck.

She could feel his gaze on her. She looked down and carefully helped him out of his shirt. The fabric slid over his arms, warm from his skin. He moved a little to help her, lifting his arms lazily, still watching her face.

Her eyes dropped.

His chest was now bare.

Firm. Toned. Calm but powerful.

She stopped for a second.

And her cheeks turned red. Siddharth noticed. His lips curved into a slow smile.

Her eyes went lower - to the waistband of his pants. Unknowingly her lips parted & she licked her lower lips.

She blinked and quickly looked up.

He hadn't moved.

Still leaning back, arms resting on the chair, his fingers touching his lips now.

His eyes sparkled - not with teasing - but with quiet confidence.

He knew what she was feeling. And he was letting her feel it.

Noor took a small breath.

Then her hand moved to the buttons of his pants. Her fingers were trembling again.

Her knees bent slightly, and she began to lower herself - reaching toward his legs to remove them.

That's when Siddharth's expression changed.

His brows came together slightly. His smile faded. He stood up - quick and tall. Her hands hung mid-air. She looked at him confused. Her lips parted, about to speak - to ask if something happened.

But before she could say anything, Siddharth looked at her.

His eyes were soft again. A little apologetic. But full of something very protective.

He leaned forward, brushed back a loose strand from her face, and said,

"Thaka hoon Noor, pagal nahi hua."
("I'm tired, Noor. Not mad.")
His words carried weight.

Then he leaned in, pressed a kiss to her forehead - gentle, slow - and stepped away.

He bend forward & removed his pants on its own. Noor didn't move.

She stood there, still, her chest rising slowly.

Her eyes followed his back as he walked away.

Her heart felt warm.

Heavy with love. He didn't let her touch his feet. Not even by mistake.

Not even when he was tired.

Because for him - she wasn't just his wife.

She was his world. His equal. His Noor.

She closed her eyes for a second.

Smiled quietly to herself.

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Noor came out of the bathroom, Her payal made a faint ching-ching sound as she walked, She had changed into a loose cotton shirt and her pajama

Her eyes looked around.

And there he was - Siddharth - sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders broad, body heavy, head tilted slightly like he was fighting sleep.

His eyes were half-closed.

Still waiting.

Still awake.

Waiting for her.

A small smile came to her lips.

Her husband couldn't sleep without her. She stepped closer, her anklets singing again as she moved slowly.

She picked up the towel from the chair beside the bed, and her eyes fell on his hair - still wet.

"Bawale ho aap bhi," she murmured softly to herself.
("You're such a fool.")

He looked up slowly.

His face was calm, quiet. But his eyes. T hey held that sleepy, soft look - like a child who had waited long and now finally found peace.

His lips didn't move. He didn't say anything.

But his arms lifted - strong and slow - and found their way around her waist. His fingers slipped gently under her shirt, touching the bare skin of her back.

She inhaled.

His hand moved in slow circles over her lower back, and then he pulled her gently - between his parted legs.

His head fell forward.

Right against her stomach.

Noor smiled down at him, her hand moving to his hair.

"Baal kyu nahi sukhaye aapne? Kal sir dare hone lagega phir"

But he didn't reply.

His arms tightened around her waist, holding her close, like he needed to feel every breath of hers.

She shook her head brushing the towel through his hair with gentle fingers.

His head moved slightly, resting more into her stomach, his breath warm against her clothed navel. He pressed a small kiss over her skin - soft, lazy.

She moved fastly, drying his hair, letting her fingers slip through the strands. His grip on her waist would tighten sometimes, as if he wanted to melt into her.

Then another kiss.

Lower. Longer.

Her stomach fluttered.

The towel in her hand finished its work. She dropped it gently on the floor beside them. Her fingers now touched his scalp directly, massaging it lightly.

Then she leaned down.

And pressed a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

He looked up.

That expression in his eyes - sleepy, soft, and full of love - hit her like a wave. His face looked so childlike, so calm, like he was receiving love after waiting too long.

He kissed her stomach again.

And then slowly pulled back.

His fingers lifted the hem of her shirt and then he slid his face insids - hugging her from inside the thin fabric.

She could feel his beard brush her skin.

Her lips parted.

She bit her lower lip slightly.

She wasn't wearing anything underneath - just the loose cotton shirt. And now he was hiding inside it, his face resting right between her chest and stomach, his arms wrapped fully around her waist.

She blushed hard.

Her hands moved up and touched his head, gently caressing him from the outside.

Her fingers moved slowly, lovingly, as he stayed still inside her shirt.

They didn't speak.

Only breaths. Heartbeats. Warmth.

Then - after a long moment - she felt it. His hand moving lower. Pulling her softly - down toward him.

Her legs bent slightly. Her body moved closer. And her breath turned shallow.

Then it happened.

He leaned forward again - and now his face was pressed between her chest.

Noor gasped softly.

Her hand stopped in his hair.

His beard tickled her skin, and her body shivered from the sudden closeness.

She stood frozen for a second, her hand resting on his head, her heart thudding loud inside her chest.

Then - in a slow motion - his hands moved down again. They touched her waist.

And gently - without a word - tugged on her shirt.

Asking.

She looked down at him. And simply nodded with a shaky breathing.

Letting him do whatever he wanted.

He pulled the shirt over her head - slow, respectful, careful - and dropped it beside them.

Now her upper body was bare.

The room wasn't cold - but she felt a different kind of chill run through her. A sweet, shy heat spread across her face as she looked down.

His face was still pressed between her breasts.

He didn't move.

Didn't look up.

Just stayed there - buried in her warmth - like he finally found rest.

Her arms moved around his shoulders, hugging him close. Her fingers caressed his back softly.

And then - in a gentle motion - Siddharth lifted her. She gasped lightly as he stood up with her in his arms.

He laid her down on the bed - slowly, carefully - and pulled the blanket over both of them.

Now his body hovered above her - not heavy, but comforting.

His chest bare.

His arms wrapped around her waist.

His face still pressed into her.

And then - she felt it.

His lips, wrapping softly around her hardened bud.

She inhaled sharply. Her hands tightened around his shoulders.

Her body arched slightly toward him - a soft, natural reaction - and her legs shifted under the blanket.

His mouth was gentle, slow. Sucking softly. Worshipping.

His hand came up and held her gently, while his mouth stayed, lips warm and wet, taking in her skin like it was something sacred.

Noor's eyes fluttered shut.

Her heart felt full. Her skin tingled. Her body trembled lightly under him.

And then slowly, silently...

She drifted into sleep.

With his lips still on her.

With his arms wrapped tight..
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Noor was in the kitchen that morning. It was already past eleven, It was the weekend. Her college was off. And Siddharth had slept late last night. She didn't want to disturb him. So she let him sleep a little more.

The pallu was tucked around her waist. Her hair was tied in a loose bun. A few strands were falling over her face. She was cutting vegetables slowly, softly smiling to herself.

She was making paneer today. His favourite. Because yesterday, she had promised him that she would cook his favourite dishes and make him eat with her own hand. She smiled more, remembering his face when she had promised that. How softly he was looking at her.

But then, her smile twitched.

Her cheeks warmed.

She remembered something else he had said. That red nightie. That one! The one that hides absolutely nothing. Her eyes widened a little, and she looked around like someone could hear her thoughts.

"Kitne besharam hai ye..." she mumbled under her breath.
("How shameless he is...")

She bit her lip, hiding her face as if someone would see her blushing.
"Pehle to aise nahi the... pata nahi kya ho gaya hai... din-ba-din besharam hote ja rahe hain..." she said in a soft, complaining tone, shaking her head.

("He wasn't like this before... I don't know what happened... he's becoming shameless day by day...")

She didn't realise that she had slowed down while chopping. Her mind was somewhere else. Noor didn't notice the familiar scent of musk that filled the air until a strong, warm hand slid around her waist from behind.

His presence was close, comforting, and familiar. Siddharth's chin gently rested on her shoulder, and the heat of his breath brushed her skin. She paused, the knife in her hand stilling for a moment, feeling the steady beat of his heart pressed lightly against her back.

Then, in a low, deep voice that made her shiver, Siddharth whispered, "Good morning." His words were soft but full of warmth. Noor's fingers tightened briefly on the knife, surprised by how his morning voice always had this quiet power over her. He pressed a tender kiss on her cheek, and her smile grew, shy and bright.

"Good morning," she whispered back, turning her face slightly toward his. Siddharth's lips curved into a small smile, his hold tightening just a little, like he didn't want to let go.

They both were lost in themselves,until a faint noise from the hall remembered then that they were in kitchen.

Noor's eyes widened at the realization, and she instinctively pushed Siddharth away gently but urgently.
"Choriye, koi aajayga!"
(Get away, someone might come!)

she whispered.

But Siddharth didn't move. Instead, his grip around her waist only grew firmer. His voice dropped to a soft murmur, full of calm and a little mischief,

"Meri family ko pata hai kab miya biwi ko privacy deni hai."
(My family knows when to give husband and wife privacy.)

Noor paused her protest knowing very well he will not leave her & tilted her head, toward him.

"Par aapko nahi pata ki apni biwi ko kab privacy deni hai."
(But you don't know when to give your wife privacy.)

She said & glanced toward the door nervously, making sure no one was coming, then turned back to him with playful eyes.

Siddharth pressed his forehead gently against her shoulder, his breath warm on her skin. His voice was soft, innocent, but Noor wasn't fooled.

"Aapko mujh se privacy kyun chahiye? Maine toh kabhi nahi maangi aapse."
(Why do you want privacy from me? I have never asked for it.)

Noor laughed softly, putting down the knife and turning just enough to poke his nose with her finger. He scrunched up his nose in response, and she tugged it lightly, smiling as he looked at her with fake innocence. Just as he was about to lean back, she pulled his nose again, giggling,

"Aapko toh har waqt chipke rehna hai."
(You want to stick to me all the time.)

Siddharth scrunched his nose playfully, then made a pout before kissing the palm of the hand holding his nose. He gave a little frown, but the moment was full of warmth and fun.

"Aap bhi rahiye, maine kabhi roka?"
(You stay too, when have I ever stopped you?)

Noor rolled her eyes in disbelief, shaking her head at his shamelessness. "Hey bhagwan," she muttered, smiling despite herself.

Turning back to her work, she began chopping again, her eyes darting to the door every now and then. Suddenly, Siddharth's voice came close, teasing and low, "Kya bana rahi hai aap?"
(What are you making?)

Her smile grew wider, and she answered softly,

"Sab kuch aapka favourite."
(Everything is your favorite.)

She tilted her head toward him, feeling his hand ease around her waist, then reach for the spatula Over her hand, stirring the spices gently. Noor smiled at his actions & turned once again to look at the door.

She felt him shift behind her, hot breath fanning over her ear, and the hold around her waist tightened.

"Dessert bhi?"
(Dessert too?) he whispered.

"Nahi-wo-" she started to say, but then she realized what he really meant.

He wasn't talking about this dessert but that dessert. Her cheeks burned as his soft chuckle filled the kitchen.

"Hmm?" he teased again.

Ye admi...
(This man...)

Noor narrowed her eyes and started wiggling, trying to push him away. "Hatiye aap... aapse baat karna hi bekaar hai!"
(Move away... talking to you is useless!)

Siddharth couldn't control? laughed, deep and rich, and Noor stopped struggling but kept her lips pressed together tightly, showing her anger.

She was both annoyed and secretly surprised by his shamelessness. Her mind muttered over and over, Kitne besharam hain ye...

His laughter slowly faded, but then she felt his arms hug her tighter, warm and safe. A soft, slow voice whispered, "Sorry." Noor pressed her lips tighter, knowing very well he wasn't truly sorry.

He kissed her cheek from behind, seeing no reaction coming from her & whispering again,

"Noor... suniye toh. Sorry."
(Noor... please listen. Sorry.)
His voice sounded more desperate this time.

She almost smiled but held it back. Just as Siddharth started to pull away, a small voice called from the doorway, "Bhabhi." Noor's eyes snapped to the door.

It was Adarsh..as his voice reached Noor pressed her lips together to stop her giggle. She knew exactly how angry Siddharth would get now. She glanced back at him, holding back her smile, and as expected, she heard him curse under his breath, "Fuck!!"

Noor bit her lip, barely holding back her laughter at her husband's frustration. The door burst open with a loud, dramatic voice echoing into the kitchen.

"Bhabhi! Aap kidhar ho yaar?!"
(Bhabhi! Where are you, yaar?!)

Siddharth, who had just stepped one slow pace away from Noor to rolled his eyes. His eyes narrowed like a warning bell.

Noor, caught off guard, pressed her lips tight again, struggling-really struggling-not to laugh.

Before she could speak, the same loud voice continued, cheerfully clueless, "Aur aapke Doctor sahab kidhar hai? Dikhe nahi aaj mujhe!"
(And where's your Doctor Sahab? I didn't see him today!)

Noor bit down on her lower lip harder, eyes flicking between Siddharth-whose expression was now thunder-and Adarsh, who was still grinning wide, totally unaware.

Siddharth's voice cut through the air like a slow bullet.

"Thoda aahe peeche dekh lo. Dikh jaayenge."
(Just look a little behind. You'll see me.)

Adarsh froze, like a man caught mid-crime. His neck turned stiffly, slowly... and his eyes landed on Siddharth, who stood there like a statue carved from silence, jaw tight, arms crossed.

"B-Bhai? A-ap yahan kya kar rahe hain?!"
(B-Bhai? W-What are you doing here?!)

Siddharth didn't blink. Didn't move. Just clenched his jaw tighter like it was the only thing keeping him from committing murder.

"Tumhe marne ka planning bana raha tha."
(I was planning your murder.)

He looked away from Adarsh without another word, eyes falling back on Noor-his peace, his moment-but before he could say a thing, Adarsh threw up his hands and spoke like some guru giving pravachan,

"Bhul jaate ho kya bhai yaar? Doctor ho. Jaan bachana ka kaam hai aapka. Dharm ka palan karo."
(Have you forgotten, bro? You're a doctor. Saving lives is your job. Follow your dharma.)

Siddharth let out a dry, irritated sigh and turned slightly toward Noor instead, ignoring the fool beside them. "Noor, ek cup chai bana dijiye please."
(Noor, make me a cup of tea please.)

Adarsh frowned, blinking rapidly as if deeply betrayed.

"Mujhe to kabhi marne ke baad bhi chup karwane ko 'please' nahi bola."
(You never even said 'please' to shut me up even after I died.)

Noor couldn't take it anymore. Her lips finally broke into a quiet chuckle. She lowered her eyes, trying to hide it, but the laughter was soft and clearly there.

Siddharth turned away before he could react-his jaw still tight, his mood now fully murdered by Adarsh's entrance. He walked out without looking back, like a wounded lion retreating from battle.

Adarsh, hand to his chest, looked after him dramatically. "Dekh lo... doctor hai yeh. Marne ki baat karte hai."
(Just look at him... he's a doctor, and talks about killing people.)

Noor giggled again, shaking her head at Adarsh's tone as he leaned dramatically against the fridge like a daily soap actor.

"Woh chhoro bhabhi... pata hai Veer bhai ki girlfriend ne phir kaand kiya."
(Leave that, bhabhi... you know Veer bhai's girlfriend messed up again.)

Noor, still smiling and watching Siddharth vanish through the hallway like a storm cloud, blinked and turned to Adarsh. "Phir?"
(Again?)

And just like that, the tension vanished into thin air. The kitchen, once thick with near-murder, now bubbled with new gossip.
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---

It was late at night when Siddharth finally entered his office. The house had gone quiet after dinner. Everyone has been asleep by now. He came in a little later than usual-had gone to the hospital to check on Aryan. The boy was still under observation. The next 72 hours were critical.

He pushed the office door open slowly and closed it behind him with a soft click.

He walked toward his desk, his steps quiet but heavy. As he sat down, the faint scent in the air caught him off guard-sandalwood... and jasmine.

The scent was unmistakable.

Noor.

His brows furrowed slightly as his eyes scanned the office. The chair was empty. The window was shut. The silence held its breath. But then... his eyes stopped.

There, near the washroom door, half in shadow, half bathed in soft amber light-stood a small, still figure.

His chest tightened. His fingers stilled on the edge of the desk.

"...Noor?" he called, voice low and unsure, as he stood again. She didn't speak, but she moved-just a step toward him.

Why was she standing like that? Was she alright?

He took a step toward her. Then another. Slowly. The air around him turned thick, warm. A strange pull in his heart tightened with every step. As he got closer, the light touched her just enough for his breath to catch-

-and everything in him stilled.

His eyes widened.

His lips parted but no sound came out.

His chest rose and fell once, slowly, painfully. He swallowed hard, eyes fixed on her like she might vanish if he blinked.

There she was. Standing so quietly, so nervously perhaps, but completely still-his Noor.

His shy little wife... dressed in deep red.

A red nightdress that clung softly to her skin, falling just above her ankles, the neckline dipped a little lower than she usually dared, her shoulders almost bare, the soft fabric hugging her curves like a whisper. Her hair was open, slightly messy as if she'd run her hands through it. Her eyes looked everywhere but at him.

And in that moment, he forgot how to breathe.
______________________________
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