तुम्हें देखा तो यूँ देखा
मुसव्विर हो गई आँखें
तुम्हें सोचा तो यूँ सोचा
तसव्वुर हो गई आँखें
तुम्हें जो लिखती हैं ये शायर आँखें
बस से हमारे हैं ये बाहिर आँखें

कहीं मजबूर हैं ये आँखें
कहीं मगरूर हैं ये आँखें
मोहब्बत की कहानी में
बड़ी मशहूर हैं ये आँखें

The darkness was suffocating. Thick. Cold. It clung to him, wrapping around his throat like unseen hands, tightening, squeezing, pulling him under. A voice echoed in the abyss, soft yet sharp, tender yet desperate, each word laced with an agony that burned into his soul.

"Please, mere jaane ke baad kisi aur se pyaar mat karna..."

His heartbeat thundered in his ears. The air smelled of rain, of wet earth, of something metallic-blood? His feet moved, but the ground beneath him was endless, stretching into oblivion. A pair of hands, small and trembling, reached for him, slipping through his fingers no matter how hard he tried to hold on.

"Please... love me forever..."

His chest constricted as a figure emerged from the void-familiar, yet distant. Her face, blurred by the cruel haze of memory, stared at him, eyes filled with an unbearable sorrow. And then, just like that, she was gone. Torn away. Swallowed by the night.

"Don't fall in love. Adi... please don't forget me."

A scream rang in his ears. His? Hers? He didn't know. The weight of the words dragged him under, drowning him in a past he had buried with blood and fire. He reached out, but all he touched was nothingness.

Then-

A gasp.

Adhiraj shot up in bed, his chest heaving as if he had run for miles. Sweat clung to his bare skin, his breath ragged, his fingers curling into the silk sheets beneath him. The remnants of the nightmare still pulsed through his veins, leaving his body tense, his mind in turmoil.

His surroundings came into focus-the dimly lit chamber, the golden glow of the oil lamps flickering against the grand pillars, the lingering scent of sandalwood and rose petals from the night before. And beside him...

Annahita.

She lay undisturbed, her body curled beneath the sheets, her breathing slow and even. Strands of her hair spilled across her face, and for a moment, she looked ethereal-untouched by the storms that raged inside him.

His throat tightened. He reached out with hesitant fingers, brushing her hair back, revealing her face, her slightly parted lips, the faint trace of sindoor smudged at her hairline. It was a stark contrast to the void of his nightmare-where there had been loss, there was now presence. Where there had been pleading, there was now certainty.

He exhaled shakily and let himself fall back onto the bed, pulling her against him, his arms encircling her waist. His grip was firm, almost desperate, as if he needed to reassure himself that she was real, that she wasn't slipping away like the phantom in his dreams.

As if sensing his touch, Annahita stirred slightly, her body instinctively molding into his. Her arm draped over his torso, her fingers grazing his skin in half-conscious familiarity. A soft sigh left her lips, a whisper of contentment even in her slumber.

Adhiraj buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of her, grounding himself in the warmth of her presence.

The past was a ghost. A whisper in the dark. It had no place here, in this moment, in this life where Annahita existed.

He would not forget.

But he would never let it take him away from her. Never again.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting golden hues across the vast chamber. The soft rustling of silk sheets and the faint hum of the breeze were the only sounds that accompanied the slow rise of dawn. Annahita stirred, her body instinctively seeking warmth, her fingers reaching out to the space beside her-only to find it empty.

Her brows furrowed slightly, a soft murmur leaving her lips as her eyelashes fluttered open. The world around her was bathed in warm light, but the absence of him beside her made the bed feel colder than it should have. Her fingers curled against the sheets, tracing the indent his body had left behind, a lingering warmth that was rapidly fading.

A breathy sigh escaped her lips as she blinked away the remnants of slumber. And then, through the blur of half-sleep, her gaze landed on him.

Adhiraj.

Standing near the grand mirror, freshly showered, with droplets of water still clinging to his sculpted chest, slowly making their descent along the ridges of his muscles. A towel hung loosely around his waist, riding dangerously low on his hips, teasing the sharp cuts of his v-line. His long hair was damp, unruly, as he ran a hand through it, the movement slow, almost careless.

Her lips parted slightly, caught between sleep and something far more intoxicating. Her body ached-not painfully, but deliciously, a lingering reminder of the night before. Every stretch of her limbs, every shift of her muscles, carried echoes of his touch, his weight, his possession.

Without thinking, she stretched, arching her back slightly as her arms lifted above her head. A sleepy, satisfied sigh left her lips, her body moving in the most innocent display of comfort, and yet-

The silk sheet, barely holding onto her curves, slipped.

The fabric slid down, exposing the smooth expanse of her shoulders, her collarbones, the delicate slope of her breasts. It pooled around her waist, leaving her upper body bare, bathed in the soft, golden light of the morning.

Adhiraj stilled.

His grip on the towel tightened, his breath a sharp inhale that he barely managed to suppress.

His eyes roamed over her, dark and burning, tracing every inch of her exposed skin. The morning light kissed her bare shoulders, highlighting the faint love bites that adorned her like a sinful masterpiece-his marks, his possession.

She was utterly unaware of the storm she had just ignited within him.

Still half-lost in slumber, she tilted her head, her messy waves falling over her shoulder as she gave him a slow, drowsy smile.

"You're staring, Sarkaar," she murmured, her voice husky, laced with the remnants of sleep.

His jaw clenched, his fingers twitching by his side as if restraining himself from marching over and finishing what they had started the night before.

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling sharply, as though trying to erase the image now seared into his mind. But it was useless.

She was innocence wrapped in seduction. A siren who didn't even know the spell she had cast.

And if she continued looking at him like that, stretching like a lazy kitten, bare and bathed in morning light, he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off her for much longer.

Adhiraj's gaze darkened as he looked at her, his restraint hanging by a thread.

"I'm staring because you're seducing me again, Jaanam," he rasped, his voice thick, almost accusing, yet laced with something dangerous.

Annahita, still lost in the drowsy haze of sleep, only blinked at him in confusion. Her half-lidded eyes held no understanding of the fire she had just ignited within him. Sleep clung to her like a lazy caress, her body sore from the night before, her limbs still heavy with exhaustion. She tilted her head, lips slightly parted as if trying to grasp the meaning behind his words.

But she didn't need to understand.

Her body moved on instinct, reaching for him as he sat down beside her.

And in that moment, Adhiraj stopped breathing.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, her warmth sinking into his skin like a slow burn. She pressed against him-bare, unguarded, soft in every way that could break a man.

Bare chest against bare chest.

His entire body turned rigid.

Heat exploded through him, searing, wild, his breath caught between need and control. Her softness molded against his damp skin, and the slight chill from his freshly showered body sent goosebumps cascading down her arms.

She let out a soft sigh, unaware of what she was doing, her lips brushing against his neck as she murmured, "Mmm... you're warm."

Her breath fanned over his pulse, her voice sweet, innocent in its sleep-laced daze-but her body? Her body was anything but innocent.

Adhiraj's fists clenched against the sheets, his knuckles turning white.

She had no idea what she was doing to him. No idea how her bare skin against his felt like a match dragged across gunpowder, igniting every dark, possessive urge inside him.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry.

"Jaanam..." His voice was tight, strained, edged with a warning. A plea. A threat.

But she only hummed, her body stretching slightly in his arms, the movement making the last remnants of the blanket slip further down. Her curves pressed more firmly into him, her nails dragging absentmindedly along the muscles of his back, tracing his spine in slow, lazy patterns.

Adhiraj shut his eyes.

Control.

It was slipping.

Her every breath, every innocent sigh, every unintentional graze of her skin against his was driving him closer to the edge-an edge that he was barely clinging to.

She shifted again, her thigh brushing against his waist, and his control snapped like a frayed thread.

His arms banded around her, crushing her against him, his breathing uneven, his heart hammering against hers.

She gasped softly, startled by the sudden force, her eyes fluttering open completely now.

And that's when she saw it.

The raw, untamed hunger in his gaze.

The way his jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it might shatter.

The way his hands trembled against her skin, as if he was waging a brutal war within himself, battling the desperate urge to claim her right there and then.

"Jaanam," he murmured again, his voice hoarse, dangerous, as his fingers slid up her bare spine, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"You're playing with fire."

And Annahita, finally understanding, finally fully awake, only smiled.

A slow, knowing, utterly devastating smile.

Adhiraj's restraint didn't just snap-it shattered.

His fingers dug into her waist, pulling her impossibly closer, and before she could fully comprehend the shift in the air, his lips were on hers.

It wasn't gentle. It wasn't hesitant.

It was raw, desperate, claiming.

A groan rumbled deep in his chest as he kissed her, his mouth moving against hers with a hunger that told her exactly what she had done to him. Annahita gasped at the intensity, her fingers instinctively tangling in his damp hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, making him inhale sharply.

She could feel the tension in his body-the hard planes of his muscles pressed against her softness, the shudder that ran through him every time she moved.

His lips moved with a purpose, his tongue parting her lips with an urgency that made her toes curl. She let out a small moan, lost in the sensation of being consumed by him, and he swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss until she was breathless.

Her hands roamed over his back, feeling the heat of his skin, the ridges of his muscles tensing under her touch. He growled softly in response, his grip tightening as if he was trying to fuse them together.

His hands traced the curve of her spine, one slipping lower to grip her thigh, pulling her further onto his lap. The movement sent a shock of pleasure through her, making her arch into him, her bare skin pressed fully against his.

Adhiraj broke the kiss only to trail his lips down her jaw, his teeth grazing her skin before pressing open-mouthed kisses along her throat. Annahita tilted her head back, granting him more access, her breath hitching as he lingered at the sensitive spot just below her ear.

"Adhiraj..." she whispered, her voice a plea and a taunt all at once.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers, his breath uneven. His dark eyes locked onto hers, heavy with something dark, something possessive, something dangerously intoxicating.

"You keep doing this, Jaanam," he murmured against her lips, his fingers skimming up her ribs, barely touching, yet setting her entire body ablaze.

"And you keep falling for it," she teased back, her lips brushing his in the faintest ghost of a kiss.

He let out a low chuckle, his grip tightening, his lips hovering just over hers, their breaths mingling.

"You have no idea what you do to me."

And then, just as he was about to kiss her again, she pulled back slightly, smirking.

"Maybe I do."

Adhiraj didn't give her a chance to escape this time.

His lips crashed against hers again, claiming her in a way that left no room for teasing, no space for breath. He devoured her, his fingers weaving into her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. She whimpered softly, her body molding against his, surrendering to the way he took control.

But surrender wasn't enough for him.

His lips left hers only to trail down her jaw, his teeth grazing her skin before he latched onto the sensitive spot on her neck. He bit down, making her gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders, before he soothed the sting with his tongue.

A pleased hum rumbled in his chest at her reaction, and he did it again-his lips, his teeth, his tongue working in tandem to leave a trail of love bites down her throat, over her collarbone, lower...

"A-Adhiraj..." she whispered breathlessly, her voice a mix of pleasure and plea.

He smirked against her skin, his hands gripping her waist as he pressed another open-mouthed kiss to the swell of her chest.

"Shh, Jaanam," he murmured, his voice husky, teasing. "I'm just giving you something to remember me by."

Her body arched as he sucked on her skin, harder this time, his tongue flicking over the deepening mark before he moved to another spot. The sensation sent shivers down her spine, her breath hitching when he bit down again, harder, enough to make her whimper.

"Meri jaan..." He chuckled against her skin, his fingers tracing circles on her waist. "You look so beautiful covered in my marks."

Her cheeks burned, but before she could say anything, he gently pushed her back against the bed, pulling the blanket over her bare form.

"It's still early," he said, his voice rich with amusement as he tucked her in. "You should sleep more. Regain your energy."

She narrowed her eyes at him, pouting slightly. "And whose fault is it that I even need to regain my energy?"

Adhiraj grinned, brushing a lazy kiss against her temple. "Yours, obviously. You're the one who keeps seducing me."

Annahita huffed, but when he stroked her hair and pulled her close, she found herself relaxing against him. Sleep was already tugging at her again, exhaustion winning over playful defiance.

Adhiraj smirked as he watched her drift off, pressing one last lingering kiss to her forehead before whispering, "My wife"

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

Annahita stirred, her body sinking deeper into the plush mattress as the soft morning light spilled through the sheer curtains, casting golden hues across the room. A sleepy sigh escaped her lips, her limbs stretching lazily beneath the silk sheets. The soreness that settled in her body made her wince slightly, a lingering reminder of the night before. But instead of discomfort, a warmth bloomed in her chest-an intoxicating mix of tenderness and longing.

Her gaze drifted toward the bedside table, where a small note lay beside a tray. The sight made her brows knit slightly in confusion. Pushing herself up, she tucked the sheets around her bare form and reached for the paper, her fingers running over the slightly rough texture before she unfolded it.

"Jaanam,

I had some work to take care of. I'll be back by evening. If you're sore, take the medicines. And eat properly. No skipping meals.
- Adhiraj"

A slow, unbidden smile curled on her lips. He always left these quiet traces of his presence, as if even in absence, he needed to make sure she was taken care of. Her fingers lingered over his bold, slanted handwriting, as if she could feel him through the ink.

Beside the note, a tray held a glass of water and a small strip of medicine-painkillers, no doubt, because he knew she would never admit she needed them. He had anticipated everything. Her heart swelled at the thought.

With a content sigh, she pushed the blankets aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, the cool marble floor sending a shiver up her spine. Her body protested with a dull ache, but she ignored it, walking toward the bathroom.

The moment the warm water cascaded down her skin, she felt her muscles relax. Eyes fluttering shut, she let the steam and heat soothe her, washing away the remnants of sleep and last night's fevered touches that still tingled across her skin. As she ran her fingers through her wet hair, flashes of Adhiraj's hands on her body came unbidden-his lips tracing fire along her throat, his grip firm yet reverent. A shiver ran down her spine, though this time, it wasn't from the cold.

Wrapping herself in a soft towel, she stepped back into the bedroom, toweling her damp hair as she walked toward the table, expecting to find her breakfast untouched and cold by now.

But the sight that met her made her pause.

The food on the tray wasn't the same.

Instead of the earlier meal, a fresh, steaming plate of idli and sambhar sat waiting for her, the rich aroma curling through the air. The chutney glistened under the soft morning light, the sambhar still warm, as if it had just been placed there moments ago.

Her brows furrowed, confusion flickering across her face. She hadn't heard anyone enter. No footsteps, no rustling, nothing.

Had Adhiraj arranged for someone to silently watch over her? To ensure she ate fresh food, warm and comforting, exactly when she needed it?

A lump formed in her throat. It was such a simple gesture, yet it was so distinctly him. Thoughtful. Quiet. Unyielding in his care, even when he wasn't present.

A soft, amused sigh left her lips as she settled into the chair, picking up a piece of the soft idli and dipping it into the fragrant sambhar. The first bite melted on her tongue, the flavors bursting in a comforting embrace.

As she ate, her eyes flickered back to the note once more.

Even in his absence, he was here. In the careful instructions he left behind, in the way he anticipated her every need, in the warmth of the food that he had ensured was fresh.

He was here. Always.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡🪐༘⋆

Annahita was sprawled out on her bedroom floor, aimlessly flipping through a magazine she had already read too many times. The house was too quiet, too still. The absence of a certain brooding presence-one that usually filled the space with unspoken dominance-was unsettling. Adhiraj was out of town.

She sighed, tossing the magazine aside, only for the silence to explode into pure chaos.

The door flew open with a loud BANG! before she could even sit up, and in came Krish-a five-year-old hurricane in sneakers, his tiny feet skidding across the polished floor as he launched himself at her.

"ANGELLL!" he bellowed, his arms spread wide like a tiny, overenthusiastic superhero.

Annahita barely had time to brace herself before he crashed into her, knocking her backward with the force of his tackle-hug. She let out a startled laugh, catching him just before they both went tumbling.

"Krish!" she gasped between giggles, ruffling his wild curls. "What's with the attack, huh?"

He clung to her with all his might, his little face scrunching up in frustration. "Missed u, Angel! Mama no fun!"

She raised a curious brow. "Oh? And what terrible crimes has your mother committed now?"

Krish huffed dramatically, crossing his arms like a tiny emperor who had been gravely wronged. "Mama say, 'Klish, nap!' 'Klish, eat peas!'" He gagged, shoving his tongue out like peas were the worst possible fate. "No fun wifout Chachu! He gone!"

Annahita bit back a laugh at his sheer indignation. "Chachu's just out of town, Krish. He'll be back soon."

Krish pouted, shaking his head wildly. "Nooo! Too long!" Then his eyes lit up with an idea. "So now u stuck wif me!"

She smirked. "Oh, stuck with you, huh?"

He nodded fast, his face shining with pure mischief. "Angel best! Pway wif me!"

She gave him a knowing look. "And what exactly do you want to play, little chaos machine?"

Krish jumped in place. "BAKE!" he announced like it was the greatest idea ever.

Annahita blinked. "Bake?"

Krish nodded so hard his curls bounced. "Cake! Angel and Klish make CAKE!"

She hesitated for a second-Krish plus a kitchen was a recipe for pure destruction-but then he pulled out his ultimate weapon: his puppy eyes.

"Pweeease, Angel?" he pleaded, hands clasped together.

Oh, no.

She was done for.

"Alright," she sighed in defeat. "Let's bake a cake. But no touching the hot stuff, got it?"

Krish didn't even wait for her to finish her sentence before tearing out of the room like a tornado, screaming, "CAKEEEEE!"

Annahita scrambled up, chasing after him.

By the time she reached the kitchen, he had already pulled open a pantry door and-before she could stop him-grabbed a giant bag of flour.

The next second...

WHOOSH!

The bag tipped over, sending a MASSIVE white cloud into the air, coating his hair, her arms, and the counter in a snowy mess.

Krish gasped in pure awe. "ANGEL! LOOK! SNOWWWWW!"

Annahita coughed, waving the flour dust out of her face. "Krish, it's not snow, it's a-"

Krish clapped his little hands together, sending more flour flying. "PRETTY SNOW!"

She groaned, rubbing her temples. "Chachu is going to murder us."

Krish blinked up at her innocently, his face an adorable mix of flour and mischief. "Chachu wuv Angel. No mad!"

"...Sure," she muttered, shaking her head.

With some effort, they actually got the batter into a bowl. Krish grabbed the spoon and attacked it with so much enthusiasm that batter splattered everywhere.

"Me STRONG!" he declared proudly, flexing his tiny arms like a champion.

Annahita dodged a flying glob of batter, barely missing it. "Yes, very strong," she laughed. "But maybe mix like a chef, not a warrior?"

Krish ignored her completely, stirring like his life depended on it.

And then-his mind switched gears mid-stir.

"Angel..." he mumbled, his tongue poking out in concentration.

"Hm?"

"Chachu like cake?"

She smiled, watching his serious little face. "Of course. He'll love it because you made it."

Krish's grin stretched wide. But then, suddenly, his eyes gleamed with a secret.

He gasped. "ANGEL! I tell oo SECWET!"

Annahita leaned in dramatically. "Tell me."

Krish cupped his tiny hands around his mouth, eyes darting left and right as if someone might be listening. Then, in a loud whisper, he said:

"Chachu wuv Angel LOTSSSSS."

Annahita choked on her laughter. "Oh, really?"

Krish nodded furiously, his curls bouncing. "YES! He look at oo like dis-"

Then, to her complete horror, he clasped his hands together, fluttered his eyelashes, and made the dreamiest, most ridiculous face ever.

Annahita lost it.

"Krish, stop!" she wheezed, gasping between laughs. "You're going to get me in trouble!"

Krish giggled, his mischief in full force. "Chachu wuv Angel... but meee more!"

"Oh?" she teased. "And what makes you so sure?"

Krish stuck his tongue out playfully. "Me Angel's FAV'WITE BOY!"

She burst into laughter, pulling him into a tight hug. "You definitely are, my little troublemaker."

Krish beamed, snuggling against her. "Angel best. Chachu best. Mama... okay."

Annahita raised a brow. "Oh? Just okay?"

Krish sighed dramatically, like he carried the weight of the world. "Me wuv Mama... but she NO FUN."

She shook her head, still laughing. This kid.

Annahita eyed the lumpy, slightly burnt cake sitting on the counter. It wasn't the most elegant creation, but considering she had a five-year-old hurricane as a baking assistant, it could've been worse. She wiped her hands on a rag that was beyond saving and turned to Krish-who, at this point, was a walking disaster.

Flour clung to his curls in messy white patches, streaks of blue and green frosting decorated his chubby cheeks, and his tiny hands were still sticky from their earlier mischief.

Annahita took one look at herself-flour-dusted clothes, a streak of batter on her elbow, and a smear of icing across her wrist-and sighed.

We look like we survived a battle.

Krish, however, had zero regrets.

"Fo' Chachu!" he declared proudly, pointing at their chaotic masterpiece.

Annahita snorted, reaching over to wipe a glob of frosting off his cheek. "Oh, he's going to love it," she teased. "And if he doesn't, I'll tell him you said he's grumpy."

Krish's eyes widened in horror. He clutched the cake pan like it was his most prized treasure.

"Nooo! Chachu wuv me!"

She laughed, ruffling his flour-coated curls. "Of course, he does."

By the time they were done, the kitchen looked like a battlefield. Flour covered the floor, streaks of icing decorated the walls, and Krish stood in the middle of the mess, glowing with pride.

Satisfied with their creation, he climbed into her lap, his tiny arms wrapping around her waist as he snuggled in, sticky and exhausted.

"Angel best," he murmured into her shoulder, his voice soft with sleepiness.

Annahita smiled, hugging him back. "You're a handful, Krish... but you're my favorite."

She glanced at the chaotic state of the kitchen, the smell of slightly burnt cake still hanging in the air, and let out a lighthearted laugh.

This little troublemaker had turned her dull, empty day into a beautiful mess of mischief.

Krish, now comfortably curled up in her lap, let out a content sigh before perking up again.

"Angel... me tell u stowy?"

She smiled, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "Of course."

Krish sat up excitedly, his hands waving dramatically as he launched into his epic tale.

"One time, Chachu take me park! Me run-FAST, FAST!" He zoomed his hands through the air, his eyes bright with excitement.

Annahita gasped. "Oh no! And then?"

Krish's face scrunched up in mock tragedy.

"And den... BAM! Klish fall in MUD!"

Her hand flew to her mouth. "No! What happened next?!"

Krish huffed, crossing his arms.

"Chachu say, 'Klish, bad boy!' But me NO bad!" He pouted, his tiny hands on his hips. "MUD bad!"

Annahita bit back a laugh. "You sure about that?"

Krish ignored her, forging ahead.

"Den! Klish see DOG!" His eyes went huge, his hands stretching out. "BIG, BIG DOG! Klish say, 'Doggy!' But doggy say 'GRRRR!'" He bared his tiny teeth in a ferocious growl.

Annahita gasped again, playing along. "What did you do?!"

Krish grinned.

"Me run! FAST! But Chachu-he pick me up like SUPAHERO!" He threw his arms up, mimicking being lifted into the air. "Den doggy say, 'Grrr... bye bye!'"

Annahita giggled, picturing Adhiraj's calm, unbothered face while Krish clung to him in fear. "So, Chachu saved you?"

Krish huffed, crossing his arms again.

"Yes... but Klish still mad!"

She raised an amused brow. "Why?"

Krish pouted.

"Chachu no let me take doggy home!"

Annahita cracked up, shaking her head. "Of course, he didn't!"

Krish, dramatic as ever, let out another sigh, then shifted closer, playing with the fabric of her dress.

And then, in a tiny, sleepy voice, he mumbled-

"Angel?"

"Hm?"

"Me wuv oo."

Annahita froze, her heart melting instantly.

She tightened her arms around him, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"I love you too, Krish."

Annahita glanced down at herself-her shirt dusted in white, a streak of batter smudged on her elbow, and the faintest hint of icing on her wrist. She let out another sigh.

"Come on, you little monster," she said, nudging Krish toward the door. "We need to clean up before Chachu walks in and thinks we've declared war on the kitchen."

Krish giggled, skipping ahead, his little feet leaving a faint trail of flour prints in his wake.

"Angel messy too!" he announced gleefully.

"All your fault," she shot back, shaking her head as she herded him down the hallway.

As they passed a house help, Annahita gestured for her to stop. "Hey, could you please grab some clean clothes for Krish? He's a walking bakery right now."

The house help took one amused look at Krish-who grinned up at her, proudly dusted in sugar and flour-and smirked. "Right away, mam," she said before hurrying off.

In her room, Annahita plunked Krish onto a chair, handing him a damp cloth. "Scrub your face, okay? You look like a frosting bandit."

Krish took the cloth and swiped at his cheeks... only to smear the mess further.

"Me win cake!" he declared triumphantly, his grin wide and unapologetic.

"Sure you did," Annahita snorted, dunking her hands into a basin of water, scrubbing off the sticky remnants of their baking disaster.

The house help soon returned with a fresh shirt and pants, setting them on the bed. But dressing Krish was a mission in itself.

First came the wiggling and giggling, then the half-hearted escape attempts, and finally-after some expert-level bribing-he was mostly clean, though a faint streak of icing still clung to his ear.

Annahita swapped her own flour-crusted kurta for something fresh, shaking her head. "We're a wrecking crew, you and me."

Krish, now smugly comfortable, sprawled across her lap like a lazy kitten, his tummy full, his energy slightly drained-but his mouth? Still going at full speed.

Krish blinked up at Annahita, his tiny fingers absently twirling a strand of her hair, his dark eyes shining with mischief.

"Angel... me tell oo 'nother stowy?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep but his excitement unwavering.

Annahita smiled, tucking him closer against her. "Of course, munchkin. What's this one about?"

Krish let out a deep, dramatic sigh, the kind that suggested he was about to share the greatest injustice of his life.

"Mama."

She raised a brow. "Oh? What about her?"

Krish huffed, his tiny arms crossing over his chest, looking far too exasperated for a five-year-old. "Mama no fun."

Annahita bit back a laugh. "No fun? But she's your mama!"

Krish nodded aggressively, his curls bouncing with the force of his agreement. "Yes! And Mama say-'Klish, no dis! Klish, no dat! Klish, NO FUN!'"

Annahita pressed a hand to her mouth, barely managing to hold in her laughter. "Oh?" she asked, keeping her tone serious. "And what kind of fun does she stop you from having?"

Krish shot up, his little hands flailing for emphasis. "Mama say no jump on bed!"

"That... sounds reasonable."

Krish gasped, scandalized. "Mama say no take 'nother ice-cweam!"

Annahita tilted her head. "That also sounds reasonable."

Krish's eyes widened in betrayal. He clutched his chest like she had just stabbed him with a wooden spoon.

"ANGEL! WHOSE SIDE YOU ON?!"

She burst into laughter, hugging him tight as he squirmed in protest. "Fine, fine! I'm on your side. But your mama loves you, you know that, right?"

Krish pouted, his chubby cheeks puffing out. "Hmph. Mama wuv me... but Chachu wuv me MORE."

Annahita smirked. "And how do you know that?"

Krish's expression turned smug. "Chachu says 'Yes, Klish' when Mama says 'No, Klish.'"

She snorted. "Oh, really?"

Krish nodded furiously, his curls bouncing again. "One time, Mama say, 'No, Klish, no chocolates!' But Chachu say, 'One is okay.'" He grinned, eyes twinkling. "So me take TWO!"

"Krish!" Annahita gasped, tapping his nose playfully. "You little thief!"

Krish giggled, then leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, like he was revealing a state secret.

"Angel... Mama say Chachu spoilin' me."

Annahita chuckled. "She's probably right."

Krish ignored her, still deep in his very serious rant. "Mama also say no bwing toys to bed! But Chachu say, 'Let Klish be Klish.'"

She shook her head, grinning. "You're impossible."

Krish flopped back against her, arms spread wide. "Mama say no messy, no shout, no jump, no fun." Then, his little face lit up with pride. "But Chachu let me be 'Klish Hurricane!'"

Annahita laughed so hard she had to wipe tears from her eyes. "Hurricane Krish, huh?"

Krish nodded proudly. "YES! And u Angel, so u always on Klish Hurricane's team!"

She ruffled his flour-dusted curls. "Always, munchkin."

Krish yawned, his warm little body snuggling closer, his hands clutching at her dress like he never wanted to let go.

"Angel best. Chachu best. Mama... okay."

Annahita laughed again, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Your poor mom."

Krish sighed dramatically, like he was personally suffering. "Me love Mama but... no fun."

Annahita grinned, knowing his mother would definitely have a thing or two to say about his horribly biased ranking system.

But before she could comment, Krish grinned up at her, tugging on her hand.

"Mo' fun, Angel!"

She raised a brow, smirking. "Oh, we're still going?" Her gaze landed on the craft supplies sitting on her desk. "Alright, let's make photo frames-nice and easy, no explosions."

Krish's eyes sparkled. "Fo' Chachu!"

"Naturally," Annahita said, pulling out paper, glue, and a handful of wooden sticks. Krish, with all the determination of a miniature architect, grabbed a stick and attacked it with glue as if constructing a masterpiece.

His tongue poked out in concentration, his tiny fingers smearing adhesive everywhere. Annahita shaped the mess into something vaguely resembling a frame, dodging his sticky hands as he decorated it with twisted ribbons and-somehow-an explosion of glitter.

"Krish, where did-" She groaned as shimmering specks rained down onto the floor. "Never mind. Chachu's getting the most glittery frame when he's back."

The final product was a delightful disaster-lopsided, glue-smudged, glitter-clumped-but Krish held it up proudly, his eyes sparkling. "Pwetty!"

"Perfect," she agreed with a fond smile. Digging into Adhiraj's desk drawer, she fished out a photo-one of Krish grinning with a lollipop, perched in Adhiraj's arms while his Chachu smirked like he was in on some secret. She slid it into the chaotic little frame, and Krish clapped like she had just created something magical.

"Hang it!" he commanded, pointing at the wall.

Annahita nailed it up, stepping back to admire their handiwork. The frame tilted to one side, looking as if it might collapse under the weight of glue and enthusiasm, but it had heart. Krish frowned, scrutinizing the space around it.

"Too empty."

She nodded in agreement. "Let's fill it-more pictures?"

"YAY!" Krish cheered, bouncing as she rifled through Adhiraj's drawers, unearthing a treasure trove of photographs.

The first to go up was another of Krish and Adhiraj-Krish mid-jump, arms flung wide, and Adhiraj catching him with effortless ease. Next, a gem: Adhiraj and Shivaay as kids. Shivaay looked grumpy, arms crossed, while Adhiraj scowled like a tiny storm cloud.

"Chachu mad!" Krish giggled.

"Always," she teased, pinning it up beside a shot of Shivanya and Krish-her scolding, him covered in cookie crumbs.

"There's Mama."

"Mama say, 'No mo' cookies, Klish!'" Krish mimicked with an exaggerated pout. His expression shifted when she held up a childhood photo of Nandini and Adhiraj-both laughing wildly, covered in mud, chaos evident even in still form.

"Chachu fun then more!" Krish declared.

"Seems like he grew up," Annahita mused, adding a photo of Nandini and Shivaay-her beaming, him sulking beside her. Her looking at him and him just making her stand properly.

Then she found a wedding picture-her in a rich lehenga, Adhiraj in a regal sherwani, and Krish in the background, mid-photobomb, grinning as if he owned the moment.

"Us."

"Angel pwetty!" Krish cooed, admiring the picture.

She smiled and tacked up one of Digvijay and Tripti-posing stiffly at an event, looking every bit the dignified royalty they were.

She got another picture of her and Adhiraj from the wedding day and placed it in middle.

Then, with a mischievous glint, she retrieved her own stash-BTS posters and an Arjun Rampal print. Unrolling the BTS poster, she pinned it up, all seven dazzling smiles radiating from the wall.

Krish shrieked in delight. "JUNGKOOK!"

"Good taste," she praised, moving on to Arjun Rampal's brooding, black-and-white shot.

Krish squinted, smirking. "Angel wike him?"

"Maybe," she teased with a wink.

(A/N : I toh completely love him)

Stepping back, she surveyed the wall. It was a riot of emotions-Adhiraj's family photos, moments of nostalgia, the glitter-covered frame reigning over them all, and, of course, her personal touch of pop-culture admiration.

Krish nodded, hands on his hips. "Big now! Chachu wuv!"

"He'll love it," she assured him, pulling him into a hug. "Your Mama might say it's too wild, but that's her loss."

Krish huffed. "Mama say, 'No glitter, Klish!'"

"And what do I say?"

"Angel say YES!"

"Exactly." She grinned, ruffling his curls.

His excitement waned as exhaustion settled in, and he yawned, curling into her lap. His tiny fingers clung to her sleeve as his body relaxed against hers.

"Angel best," he mumbled sleepily. "Chachu best. Mama Papa also best. But Pali is the bestest"

Before his eyes fully closed, he reached for her hand. "Mo' fun, Angel..."

She chuckled, brushing his curls back. "Tomorrow, munchkin."

With Krish snuggled against her, his face peaceful, the once-empty wall glowing with life, Annahita realized-her new home wasn't just a place anymore. It was family.

HELLO MERE FOOL GOBHIYON!

Sabse pehle ek very important baat-VOTE KIYA? COMMENT KIYA? FOLLOW KIYA? NAHI KIYA? KYA KAR RAHE HO TUM LOG?!

Mujhe sab pata hai, sab! Tum log chapter padho, haste haste lootpoot ho jao, phir chup-chap nikal jao bina vote kare, bina comment kiye! Kya yeh dukh bhari dastaan hai? Haan?

Mujhe tum sab ke mobile screens pe bhoot banke aana padega kya? Krish Hurricane bhejna padega tumhare ghar pe? JUMP KAREGA TUMHARE BED PE! CHOCOLATE MAANGEGA! ICE CREAM KHA KE TUMHARE WHITE KURTE PE GIRAA DEGA!

Aur phir tum sab sochoge-'Kaash humne ek chhota sa comment likh diya hota!'
Lekin tab tak bahut late ho chuka hoga. Tumhara ghar glitter me doob chuka hoga!

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AB NEXT CHAPTER KI BAAT!

Mujhe pata hai, tumhare dil me sirf ek sawaal hai-
"Next chapter kab aayega?"

Meri kasam! Pakka pakka likh rahi hoon!
Haan, abhi tak likha nahi hai, but likh dungi! Tumhe kya lagta hai, main tumhe beech raste me chhod dungi? Nahi!
Tum mere pyaare rasgulle ho, aur tumhare liye next chapter jaldi, very jaldi, express speed se likha jayega!

Ab agar kisi ne pucha 'Next chapter kab aayega?'
Toh jawab hai-
"Jab tum vote karoge, comment karoge, aur mujhe ScrollStack aur Instagram pe follow karoge!"

Kyunki agar nahi kiya... toh Adhiraj khud aayega tumhare dreams me aur tumhe apne rajya se nikal dega!

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VOTE! COMMENT! FOLLOW!
Aur jaldi aana next chapter padhne, warna tumhe Krish ki tarah 'OKAY' wali rank milegi!

XOXO, Tumhari Pyaaz Kaat ke rone wali Author Garima!