You Are In Love

9: Burnt toast Sunday

morning his place, burnt toast sunday
you keep his shirt, he keeps his word.

9: BURNT TOAST SUNDAY

SANIA'S POV:

As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and stretched, the first thing I noticed was the sight of Shubman across the room in his Mumbai apartment. His shirtless form illuminated by the soft morning light streaming in through the window. The way the light danced across his skin , the sight of him just brushing his teeth made my heart skip a beat, and I couldn't tear my gaze away.

But as I watched him, I suddenly became aware of the fact that I was wearing his shirt, the fabric soft against my skin and imbued with his comforting scent. Heat flooded my cheeks as He looked at and I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

Shubman's eyes met mine in the reflection of the mirror, and a knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I see you found my shirt," he remarked, his voice teasing yet filled with warmth.

I felt a blush spread across my cheeks as I nodded, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze . "I hope you don't mind, it smells like you so I could resist." I replied, my voice soft with embarrassment.

Shubman shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Not at all daisy, I really like it on you" he reassured me, his tone gentle. "In fact, I think it looks much better on you than it does on me."

"Oh, really?" I teased, taking a step closer to him, "So, you think this shirt looks better on me, huh?"

He turned to face me amused, the corners of his lips quirking up in a playful smirk. "Absolutely," he replied, his voice laced with humour, "but I might be a little biased."

"Well, in that case," I said, my voice dropping to a sultry whisper, "maybe I should just keep it."

Shubman's breath caught in his throat, his eyes locking with mine in a heated exchange. "I wouldn't mind," he replied, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down my spine.

He leaned in for a fiery kiss. The world seemed to melt away as he put his body onto mine. Shockwaves of desire pulsed through my body and I explored his mouth. His hand sliding up my thigh as he pulled me closer.

We finally pulled away breathless and exhilarated and I excused myself to the bathroom still blushing.

I quickly freshened up and came out to Shubman, standing in front of the toaster with a determined look on his face, a slice of bread in one hand and a bewildered expression on his face. Smoke billowed from the toaster, and the unmistakable scent of burnt toast filled the air.

I couldn't help but laugh at the sight, the tension of the moment evaporating as I watched him struggle with the simplest of tasks. "Shubman, what are you doing?" I asked, unable to suppress my amusement.

He turned to me, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Trying to make us breakfast," he replied, gesturing to the charred remains of the toast in the toaster.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his earnestness, feeling a surge of affection wash over me. "Well, I appreciate the effort," I said, moving to stand beside him, "but maybe we should leave the cooking to the professionals."