[FEATURED IN WATTPAD INDIA PROFILE]
❝Pioneering the art of constructing love, my Kanmani.❞
Xavier teased her skin, slowly caressing her cheeks and her lips trembled.
❝You don't dare!❞
And he kissed her.
------
When he had compromised his dreams and...
♬ khuda mila jo yeh faasla hai, khuda tera hi yeh faisla hai...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Satya hated coffee; she had strange allergies or simply unconventional tastes in life. Yet here she was, making a cup of filter coffee, lazily humming the tune of "Aga Naga," her recent favorite.
"Masturbation is never a solution," came Xavier's voice, low and observant, as he stood behind her, quietly watching the ritual of kappi making unfold.
Startled by his voice, Satya spilled a few drops of hot coffee on her hands.
"You scared the hell out of me!" she snapped, jerking toward the sink to let cool water soothe the sting.
"And you're in my home..." Xavier replied with an inquisitive look, "This early in the morning, no less."
He reached for the overhead cabinet, took out the first aid box, and, after shuffling through some medicines and bandages, picked up a bright tube of Neosporin. Taking her arm gently, he inspected her hand, the faint redness against her skin.
"Index finger," she pointed to her left hand, directing him where to apply it. "Also, I have keys to your gigantic bachelor pad—or shall I say your palace-like penthouse—because you so graciously handed it to me."
"It's hardly gigantic. Why did you come here?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.
"To brew you a cup of filter coffee," Satya remarked sarcastically, pulling her hand away and handing him the cup.
"You're not my maid."
"Well, I'm not your wife either, so what's the point?" she retorted.
He sighed, returning the first aid kit to its place. "Did you at least make tea for yourself?" His gaze lingered on the counter, searching for a second cup.
He was tired. Sleepless nights and the onset of a migraine weren't what he needed today.
"Yep, like you said, I'm not your maid," she replied, motioning for him to walk with her.
They drifted to the balcony in comfortable silence. The sun was making its slow ascent, spilling shades of amber, peach, and vermilion across the sky. Satya sipped her tea, captivated by the way nature painted the world anew each morning, a silent, vivid revelation.
"Satya, I—"
"Xav, do you know why sunrises are beautiful?" she interrupted, cutting him short with her question.
