The Second Bloom • 18+

28. Holi (Varun's POV)

I woke up early this morning.

Wait. I think I didn't even sleep because after 4 a.m. I was just imagining my moments with my wife. I was planning about what to do, how to make her Holi special and I've to make sure I'm the first one to apply her colour and fill her hairline with the vermillion of my name yet again.

I will make sure that she feels like she is the most desirable woman in this world and how lucky I feel that I'm her husband.

I wanted to be the first to put color on her, to mark her with my love as we welcomed the festival together. I couldn't shake the anticipation building inside me. Holi was not just a festival, it was a celebration of love, and I was determined to express mine to Malini in the most memorable way possible.

I waited for the right moment.

The crowd was thick, with everyone busy celebrating, laughter echoing as colors were tossed around like confetti. I slipped away from the main gathering, my heart racing with excitement as I made my way to my wife's room because she was still inside, the familiar warmth of desire igniting within me.

I glanced around to ensure no one was watching, then quietly entered her room.

The moment I stepped inside, the smell of her—sandalwood and sweetness—overwhelmed my senses. I smiled, thinking about how lucky I was to have her in my life.

She was in the midst of preparing for the celebrations, her beautiful face lit up by the sunlight filtering through the window. She was standing infront of the window. She looked ethereal in her simple saree, her hair falling softly around her shoulders.

“Malini,” I called softly, stepping closer.

She turned to face me, surprise lighting up her eyes.

“Varun! Aap yun baar baar humare kamre mein kaise aa jate hain?” she exclaimed, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

“Kaise naa aaye, humari jaan,” I said, my voice low and teasing, “Sabse pehle Hume Jo rang lagana hai aapko.”

Her cheeks flushed.

I stepped closer, the distance between us shrinking as I reached for the pouch of colors tucked away on her dressing table.

I dipped my fingers into the vibrant powders, the colors mixing with the warmth of my skin.

“Laga de?” I asked, a wicked grin spreading across my face.

Before she could respond, I gently smeared the color across her forehead, trailing it down to her cheeks. Her laughter filled the room, bright and melodic.

“Varun! Aap humara kamra Ganda kar rahein hai!”

“Achhi baat hain, Holi ke din Ganda nahi hoga toh fir kab hoga,” I replied, unable to contain my own laughter as I continued to apply color on her cheeks, my fingers grazing her skin.

“Kitni khubsurat lag rahin inn rangon mein aap.”

She radiated joy, her eyes sparkling with a playful challenge. “Ab humari baari,” she declared, reaching for the colors.

But before she could reach me, I grabbed her wrist gently, pulling her closer.

The playful atmosphere shifted, the space between us crackling with electricity.

With a swift movement, I pulled her against me, my hands finding her waist as I dipped my head to plant a soft kiss on her lips. The kiss deepened, igniting a fire within me that had been simmering beneath the surface.

I felt her melt against me, her body responding to my touch, and I deepened the kiss.

We stumbled backward, our bodies pressing against the wall as I held her close, our laughter mingling with the passion that enveloped us.