MaNan : Love is Just a Word

6. And I'm here

That night, Nandini lays out Aarav's favorite blanket on the floor of her room and lets him crawl to his heart's content, has him practice standing by clinging to Nandini's hands, laughs when Aarav falls against her shoulder and coos happily into Nandini's neck. 

She tucks him into his footy pajamas, the feet those of a penguin's and they read what Nandini has come to think of as Aarav's favorite story.

His eyes latched onto Nandini's face as much as the colorful pictures. Then her voice is a song, Aarav's eyes blinking up sleepily from his crib and Nandini's vocal cords protest whenever she presses them together like this now, makes them stretch and bend in melody, in harmony, but it's worth it with how it luls Aarav to sleep, his little mouth opening and closing like he wants to sing too.

The hurt isn't in Nandini's throat anyway, it's in her mind and the younger is used to it. Burying the hurt in there until she can almost forget it. Curled up in her bed with her laptop, the room is dark, a thin light slipping in through the curtains.

Aarav sleeps soundlessly despite the faint noise.

The city beyond the window, the muted tones of Abhimanyu and Mukti's conversation in the kitchen. It sounds like it might be an hushed argument but if love means never being afraid to be sorry, never being afraid of love, then Nandini guesses it also has to mean not being afraid to be angry.

Graphs fill half her screen and an unfinished essay takes up another window, but she finds herself with a folded paperback held to the light. A book Manik recommended almost as an afterthought, his face rouged from working the free weights, how he reread it recently and thought it might be something Nandini would like.

Sleep calls her, responsibility does too, but she has about a quarter of the book left. And so Nandini finds herself reading until dawn, manages to finish her essay and fit in an hour of rest too.

---

This coffee shop is always working through the same folktronica playlist. It gives Nandini a headache sometimes but the coffee is decent and they have healthy snack options which is a main priority in Nandini's life now.

The cashier didn't look up as he asked politely, "What can I get you?" 

Nandini started, "I'll have the-" and stopped as someone else also answered the question at the same time.

"Can I get a- oh, sorry, I didn't- oh . Hi."

 The younger looked at the fellow customer like her and recognized the gentle voice as they greeted her. "I should have known that was you," Manik says from beside. 

It's become so familiar over the last few months, the ever-present stretch of his lips. It surprises Nandini they've never run into each other here before. Manik seems the type to like esoteric electronic folk, not to mind confusing ordering queues. 

He didn't mind that she didn't greet him back instead, Manik just gave her his bright smile like a sunflower, "The baby was a dead giveaway, but the suit threw me off I have to say." 

Nandini tries to shrink under the observation, arms around her middle but she just ends up holding Aarav closer. 

Aarav flutters at the attention, batting his long lashes at Manik, a tiny fist thrown his way in greeting. Manik gives him his own and his knuckles dwarfing Aarav's is like something from a photobook, a quaint gallery. 

He looks up at Nandini after, that same gentleness on his perfect face. 

Nandini swallows. She looks back at the cashier who's been watching them with the kind of patience only those who live on minimum wage can muster. "Sorry," she says, gesturing for Manik to go first.