𝐄𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 #𝟏: previously known as "My Home"
A friends-to-lovers romance full of longing, heartbreak, and second chances.
"𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒉𝒖𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝑰 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑰'𝒎 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆. 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒆...
HEYLO! How are? Vote and comment karke jaana haan.
And And I completed writing my home in my drafts and I am thinking to post it on stck, so follow on insta for updates : amayainks.
Target : 70 comments and 430 votes for the next one.
Can't wait for the next one 😈
── .✦
Sachchi si hain yeh taareefein, dil se jo maine kari hain, Jo tu mila toh saji hai duniya meri, humdum. Oh, aasmaan mila zameen ko meri aadhe-aadhe poore hain hum, Tere naam pe meri zindagi likh di, mere humdum. Haan, seekha maine jeena-jeena, kaise jeena Haan, seekha maine jeena, mere. humdum
ᝰ.ᐟ
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A M A Y A
It was evening time. Everyone were busy in their own little worlds. Asher was sleeping soundly on the bed, his tiny arm curled into a fist, ready to fight off dreamland's demons. Vaani sat beside him, folding clothes, humming a soft tune under her breath. Shivank stood nearby, ironing a saree with silent concentration.
"Does ironing your sarees make me look like a biwi ka gulaam?" Shivank asked, pressing down the last edge of the fabric.
Vaani laughed, hiding her blush. "A hot one," she mumbled to herself, her smile betraying her shyness.
Shivank grinned and walked over, bending down to her level. He pressed a soft lingering kiss to her flushed cheek and handed her the saree. That's when he paused, his brows furrowing. "Tumhe bukhaar hai?" he asked, placing his palm gently on her forehead.
"Maybe," she murmured. "Headache aur body ache ho raha hai dopahar se."
Shivank immediately took the clothes from her hands. "Vaani, tumhe fever hai. Rakh do sab kuch, main baad mein kar loonga." He quickly folded the remaining clothes and set them in the cupboard. She gave him a tired smile and lay down, pressing her hand against her forehead.
He tucked the blanket around her and sat beside her, fingers threading through her hair. "Tumhari internal bleeding phir se start toh nahi hui?"
She shook her head weakly. "Nahi."
"Dawai li?" he asked softly. She shook her head again. "Khaana nahi khaya na, isliye nahi li."
"I'll get the food," he said and placed a kiss on her forehead before walking out, quietly turning off the lights behind him.
Reaching the dining table, he realized the rice hadn't been cooked. With a sigh, he walked to the kitchen, rinsed the rice, and set it on the stove with water and salt. He grabbed a stool and sat, exhausted, his palms covering his face.
The day had been long. The kind that drained more than just the body, it tugged at the soul too.
When the rice was done, he served it, added curry and a little pickle, filled a glass of water, and returned to the room.
