Given as Gift [Trilogy #2] (Aadheesh And Aamira)

11. Maujudgi

I was not completely in my sane mind. But when Aamira said she forgot what she is supposed to do. I was left with a pause, a pause that demanded several answers from her.

"What are you supposed to do?" I implored the least troublesome question, and she just shrugged walking across me, I followed her. The way she said it, her eyes teared, her cheeks and nose red, not once she blinked.

I questioned myself, am I acting insane?

"Aamira..." I called her but she stopped and turned around.

"I know, Aadheesh! I am not upset or mad at you. I am just mad at myself. Mad, that is the way I have been living my whole life, I let it reflect on us too. I became selfish as I have always been. I was only thinking about myself." She made an explanation.

But I wanted to convince her she is not being selfish, "Aamira! You never have to think twice before ordering me anything! I will follow your command always! But on some things that require our involvement together? I wish we can talk it out. And not fight about it?" I said, as gently as possible. She gave a slow nod.

"You are right," She said, and I smiled pulling her in and holding her by her waist as I kissed her and she reciprocated.

This is great! Awesome! We fight, but we are ready to talk it out, to sort everything. We are open to keeping our opinions and other is ready to understand. Isn't this an ideal relationship?

~

We have been fine for a week now.  She and I just click well. I love everything about her, can say our honeymoon period has ended, yet we are too involved with each other. We had our first fight post-relationship a week ago.

We were instantly back in each other's arms, and have been since with no trouble.

I entered the house and heard the music playing inside the kitchen, Aamira doesn't know how to cook. Even if that baba Ali was a living monster, he kept that off duty for any chores.

So it was new to me for finding her in the kitchen. And I can think of all the right use of that kitchen island.

I sneaked inside and found her sitting on the island exactly across the window, with one of my books in her hand. Her face behind, wearing her Indian attire at home, because she finds herself most comfortable in them.

Her bare blouse and her ghagra, she did not realize I was here until now. Her high concentration is never on me. And I wish it would be, but she doesn't look at me like that.

Falling in love with a reader is a compromise because you will forever be aware that you are just secondary to your girl. And she will always choose a stack of books over you.

I am the same. But I don't fall in love with fictional characters.
Maybe it's the world that lacks for a woman to lose herself in printed papers.

And it freaking makes me feel disappointed.

I approached closer to her, this time she felt me, and ducked her book down but my face was right across her, her eyes widen, I was about to kiss her when she turned her head the other way.

And I ended up in nothing, I pulled back and stared at her, "What was that?" I implored, and she shook her head and jumped off the island. "Right now, I am committed to someone! I will not cheat on him!" She said and started to walk away but I stepped behind her and caught her waist lifting her off the ground, she cried with joy, I assume

"I am your fiancé technically you are cheating on me with him!" I reminded her and walking her toward our bed, I threw her down. She laughed, but scooted over the headboard, her book on her lap again, as she tried to read.