Closer To You

𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗

A Y A A N 

I watched her sitting there in pain, clutching her stomach. Since I rarely witness my sister having her period, I don't have much knowledge about these things.

I was halfway ready for the office, but having decided not to go, I'm staying put. It might seem absurd to others, even my own family, that I skipped the office on a Monday for my wife's period, especially when I don't usually miss work even when I'm sick.

She lies still on the couch, expressing her preference for it over the bed. She mentions the possibility of staining the bed, but I couldn't care less. Her comfort is my priority when she's in pain. If the couch provides that comfort, then that's where she should be.

She springs up from her sleeping position so quickly that it makes me wonder what might be wrong. "I completely forgot about preparing food downstairs. Dadi won't appreciate finding me absent in the kitchen."

She shared her concern about Dadi feeling upset if she's not in the kitchen. As she was about to open the door, I halted her. Despite being in visible pain, she still prioritizes others' opinions and responsibilities.

Despite being a lawyer with a demanding schedule, she manages all household tasks efficiently. I'm not oblivious to the challenges that come with a hectic lawyer's life.

"Don't worry about Dadi or others. You're in pain, and I want you here, resting."

"But, Ayaan-" She attempted to say something, but I interrupted her.

"No buts. You're going to rest and I will handle others." With a glare, she headed back to the couch and rested there. To be honest, her glare is so cute that it could melt even the toughest resolve. It's endearing in a way.

"I'll go and bring breakfast for you." I said when it was time for breakfast.

"Wait."

"I will also go downstairs to have breakfast."

"You're in pain."

"Yes par itna bhi Nahi ki main niche Nahi ja sakti. Aap overreact Kar rahe hai."
(Yes, but not to the point that I can't head downstairs. You're overreacting.)

"But-"

"Mujhe aapki baat nahi sunni. Main niche jaa rahi huu aaur aapne mujhe rokaa toh main aapse baat hi nahi karungi."
(I don't want to listen to you. I'm going downstairs and if you stop me then I'm not going to talk to you.)

She told me—no, wait. She threatened me. If I tried to stop her, she vowed to stop talking. Knowing how stubborn she is, it's the first time someone has threatened me, and surprisingly, I don't mind it. If it were someone else, I might have retaliated, but with her, it's a different story.

She was walking quickly, and it didn't seem to bother her, but it did concern me. She's in pain, and I couldn't understand how she could move so swiftly.

"Wait. Aap itna jaldi kyuu chal rahi ho-" I genuinely had no prior knowledge about these things, but my concern for her was sincere. She has a way of making me lose my mind with just a furrow on her brows.
(Why are you walking so fast?)

"For god sake Ayaan, Stop acting as if I'm pregnant." Pregnant? What? Maybe I'm acting crazy, and I should stop this. She headed downstairs and greeted everyone. No one said anything, as I had informed Maa that she wasn't feeling well.

"Beta, aap thik ho. Ayaan keh Raha thaa aap bimar ho." She said showing her genuine care for Vienna.
(Daughter, are you fine? Ayaan was saying you're ill.)