Surya stood by the kitchen counter, his attention divided between the simmering curry and the tantalizing aroma of spices. His culinary skills were unmatched, but today, he cooked with a different purpose—a secret delight that fluttered in his chest.
Mahalakshmi, or Maha as everyone called her, moved gracefully around the kitchen. Her laughter echoed, filling the room with warmth. Surya couldn't help but steal glances at her—the way her hair fell over her shoulder, the curve of her lips when she tasted the sauce, and the twinkle in her eyes.
"Is the curry ready?" Maha asked, her voice soft and inviting.
Surya nodded, his heart racing. "Almost. But I think we need a taste test." He dipped a spoon into the curry and held it out to her.
Maha leaned in, her lips brushing against the spoon. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, time stood still. The curry was forgotten as desire simmered between them. Surya's pulse quickened, and he wondered if Maha could hear it too.
She pulled away, her cheeks flushed. "Delicious," she murmured, her gaze lingering on his lips.
Surya cleared his throat. "Maha, there's something I've been wanting to tell you."
Her eyes widened, curiosity dancing in their depths. "What is it?"
He took a step closer, their bodies almost touching. "I've watched you—the way you light up a room, your kindness, your passion for art. And I—" His voice wavered. "I've fallen for you, Maha."
Her breath hitched. "Surya..."
Before she could respond, he cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. And then, he kissed her—a gentle press of lips that spoke of longing and promise. Maha melted into the kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair.
When they finally pulled apart, Surya rested his forehead against hers. "I've dreamt of this," he whispered. "Of us."
Maha's eyes sparkled. "Me too."
They swayed, lost in each other, forgetting the curry, the kitchen, and the world outside. Maha's lips brushed against Surya's shoulder, leaving light, feathery kisses. Each touch ignited a fire within him—a love that transcended recipes and ingredients.
"Promise me," Surya said, his voice raw, "that we'll keep cooking together, even when life gets chaotic."
Maha smiled, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "Always."as He pulled his lips back into hers, unbuttoning the back of her dress in a quicken state, letting the dress hit the kitchen floor as the curry began boiling over they stood there with their bodies tangled sweetly against the counter, his shirt half-buttoned, hearts racing. The dinner was forgotten—their hunger, satisfied in a different way.
Surya traced Maha's scars—the ones visible and the ones hidden. "We'll figure this out," he said. "Together."Maha nodded. "Yeah," he replied. "Starting with dessert next time."
