Anaya-His heartbeat

Chapter-38

SHIVARTH

I woke up to a faint light spilling through the curtains and the soft hum of the projector still running. My head felt heavy, but then I realized—there was a weight on me. I blinked, my eyes adjusting, and froze.

Anaya was asleep in my arms, her head resting on my chest, her soft breaths brushing against me. For a moment, I didn’t move. I just stared at her, taking in the way her lashes fluttered slightly, like she was dreaming. She looked so peaceful, so... beautiful. My chest tightened, and for reasons I couldn’t explain, I didn’t want this moment to end.

But I wasn’t used to such tenderness, so I gently shifted her off me. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, snuggling back into the blanket. I stood there for a second, watching her, before an idea struck me. I wanted to surprise her—do something that would make her smile, maybe even laugh.

The kitchen wasn’t exactly my territory, but I remembered her telling Samaira once how much she loved idli. "How hard could it be?" I thought to myself. The answer? A lot harder than I expected.

As I stood in the kitchen, batter splattered on the counter and chutney on my sleeve, I muttered every curse word I knew. But with every step, I found myself thinking about her reaction—how her eyes would light up, how she might laugh at my effort. The thought alone kept me going. Finally, after what felt like forever, I had a tray of idlis, chutney, and sambar ready. They weren’t perfect, but they were... mine.

Balancing the tray carefully, I walked back to the movie room. Samaira and Ayaan had left at some point, sparing me from their teasing. Anaya was still asleep, curled up like a child, her hair spilling across the couch. I smiled without realizing it.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” I said softly, placing the tray on the table.

She stirred, blinking awake, her gaze landing on the tray. Her eyes widened, and she sat up, rubbing her eyes like a child seeing a surprise gift.

“You made this?” she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief and something warmer—admiration.

“Who else?” I tried to sound casual, but my chest puffed up a little.

She grinned, and before I could process what was happening, she leaned in and kissed my cheek.

A kiss. On my cheek.

It wasn’t much, just a quick, soft peck, but it felt like a bolt of electricity shooting straight to my heart. I froze, staring at her as my pulse hammered in my ears.

“Thank you, Mr. Oberoi,” she said, her tone playful as she reached for an idli.

I cleared my throat, trying to pull myself together. “Wait! Freshen up first. Go brush your teeth.”

She frowned, looking at me like I’d just told her to give up dessert. “I’ll do it later. Let me eat first.”

“No,” I said, crossing my arms. “Go brush. Now.”

Her eyes narrowed, a mischievous glint sparking in them. “And if I don’t?”

“Then I’ll... I’ll—” I faltered, realizing I had no real argument.

She smirked, victorious, and picked up her fork. “That’s what I thought, Mr. Oberoi.”

I tried to protest again, but she gave me that look—the one that told me I was already defeated. With a triumphant grin, she popped a piece of idli into her mouth.

As she chewed, her eyes fluttered shut, and a satisfied hum escaped her lips. “This is amazing,” she said, her voice full of genuine appreciation.

Watching her enjoy something I’d made—a first for me—felt strangely... fulfilling. She had this way of turning even the simplest moments into something bright and warm, like she brought life wherever she went.