The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains in pale, golden ribbons, dancing across the quiet bedroom. For Avni, it was a backdrop to a deep, restorative slumber. For Divyash, it was a reminder that he had survived an entire night without a single minute of sleep.
He lay perfectly still, his eyes tracing the familiar patterns on the ceiling. His mind, however, was a chaotic storm. It had been only a month since they were married—a whirlwind arrangement that had moved faster than his heart could keep up with. They had known each other for less than eight months, and yet, here they were.
Yesterday, they had kissed.
It hadn’t been a polite, formal brush of lips. It had been significant. Now, the silence of the room felt heavy with the aftermath. Did I move too fast? he wondered, his chest tightening. Is she regretting it? Does she think I’m overbearing, or worse, is she suddenly disinterested? He wanted to build a foundation of friendship, to let her see the man beneath the public persona, but that kiss had shifted the gravity of their entire relationship.
Beside him, Avni stirred.
The shrill, rhythmic pulse of her alarm cut through the quiet. Divyash’s reflexes kicked in; he squeezed his eyes shut and regulated his breathing, feigning the deep sleep he desperately wished he’d had. He felt the mattress shift as Avni sat up.
Avni blinked against the light, the haze of sleep lifting to reveal the vivid memories of the previous evening. A soft flush crept up her neck. She looked down at Divyash, surprised by her own tranquility. Usually, her nights were fragmented by restlessness, yet beside him, she had slept with a profound sense of safety. Maybe his calmness is contagious, she thought with a secret smile.
Leaning over, she hovered above him. Watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, she couldn't resist. "Good morning, Dimples," she whispered. She pressed a feather-light kiss to the exact spot where his dimple would emerge if he were smiling. It was a ritual she’d begun in secret on the mornings she woke first, a quiet confession of affection she wasn't yet ready to say out loud.
She slipped out of bed and headed for the washroom, leaving Divyash paralyzed by the sudden electricity in his skin.
As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut, Divyash bolted upright. He pressed his palm to his cheek, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. The hell was that? his mind screamed. Dimples? She has a nickname for me? The overthinking from the night before vanished, replaced by a surge of adrenaline. If she was kissing him while she thought he was asleep, then maybe—just maybe—he wasn't the only one falling.
He decided then and there: he wasn't going to let her hide.
Twenty minutes later, Divyash was dressed for the day, leaning against the dresser with a calculated look of innocence. Avni emerged, fresh and smelling of jasmine, reaching for her earrings.
"Good morning, Avi," Divyash said, his voice smooth. "You know, I had the strangest dream today."
Avni fumbled with the backing of her earring, her back turned to him. "Oh? What about?"
"It was so vivid," he said, stepping closer until he could see her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were wide, her movements stiff. "I dreamed that you woke up before me, called me 'Dimples,' and kissed me right here." He tapped his cheek. "It was wild, right? Because I know how much you claim to dislike my 'sexy' dimples."
Avni froze, one hand suspended mid-air. The silence stretched, thick and agonizing. "That... that sounds like a very stupid dream, Divyash," she stammered, her face turning a bright shade of crimson. "Why would I ever say something so ridiculous? Get ready, we’re going to be late for the office."
She tried to bolt past him, but Divyash caught her wrist, his touch gentle but firm.
"The thing about dreams, Avi yhat looks like is real are mostly real," he whispered, drawing her into his space until the heat between them was palpable, "and you forgot that we’ve decided we want to be perfect at something remember. And you know what they say—practice makes perfect."
Avni looked up, her breath hitching. She saw the challenge in his eyes, the playfulness, and the underlying heat that mirrored her own. She didn't pull away. Instead, she reached up, her fingers anchoring in the fabric of his shirt.
When their lips met this time, it wasn't a question or a tentative start. It was an answer. It was deeper, surer, and far better than yesterday. He moved his path to her jaw, then her neck, and Avni let out a soft sigh, tilting her head to give him the space he was silently asking for. The world outside the bedroom door ceased to exist.
Woof!
A sharp, demanding bark shattered the moment. They sprang apart, breathless and slightly disheveled.
"Scooby," Avni exhaled, smoothing her hair with trembling hands. "Rishab must be back."
Divyash let out a frustrated groan, though his eyes were dancing with light. "The timing of that dog is impeccable."
They opened the door to find a golden blur charging at them. Scooby, a chaotic ball of energy, practically tackled Divyash.
"Oh, my poor boy!" Divyash crooned in a high-pitched baby voice, cradling the large dog. "Did that mean man Rishab starve you? You’re wasting away! You look so thin!"
Rishab, standing in the hallway looking exhausted, rolled his eyes. "He’s been gone for twenty-four hours, Divyash. He isn't 'thin,' he’s just tired of your drama. Also, I sent you the bill for the rug he shredded. Your dog is a menace."
"You just can't handle him," Divyash shot back, holding Scooby like a giant infant. "If you can't handle a dog, how are you going to handle a baby? You better tell Kritika she's going to be doing all the heavy lifting."
"Divyash, office! Now!" Avni called out, already halfway down the stairs to hide her blushing face.
"Coming, Avi!" Divyash yelled back, a triumphant grin on his face. He might have lost a night of sleep, but he had gained a nickname and a future he was no longer afraid of.
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