A Few Days Later
Anjali was bustling around the kitchen, juggling pots and pans, when her mother-in-law stormed in.
"Baap re, kitna kaam karogi? Tumhari book publishing ki date bhi toh nazdeek aa rahi hai. Jao, uspe dhyan do, ye sab mai dekh lungi," her mother-in-law declared, snatching the spatula from Anjali's hand.
"Maa, maine kar lungi, aap—"
"Nahi! Kuch nahi sunungi mai. Jao chup chaap! Aur haan, dekh lena ki humara sand—mera matlab, mera beta aur tumhara pati utha hai ki nahi,"
she added with a mischievous glint in her eye, making Anjali chuckle at the nickname her mother-in-law had coined for Aryan.
Anjali nodded and made her way upstairs, muttering under her breath, "Pati dev uth jai—eeehhhh!" Her excitement was palpable as she pushed open the bedroom door.
There stood Aryan, fresh out of the shower, a towel slung casually around his waist.
He looked like he had just stepped out of a shampoo commercial, muscles gleaming with water droplets.
Anjali couldn't help but drool a little, her eyes wide in admiration. Just as she was about to compliment him, Aryan theatrically threw another towel over her, covering her face.
"Aise kyu dekh rahi ho? Ghar mein baap, bhai nahi hai kya?" Aryan teased, striking a mock-serious pose as he dramatically covered his chest
"Uh... woh... main...," Anjali stammered, trying to pull herself together but failing miserably.
Aryan stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Mujhe pata hai, tumhe apne pati ke abs kaafi pasand hai," he teased, winking.
She tossed the towel back at him.
"Pati dev ji, apne delusional thoughts ko fold karke almari mein rakhlo. Waise bhi, mujhe maa ne bheja tha check karne ki hamara SAND utha hai ki nahi."she teased, emphasizing the nickname with a grin.
"SAND?maa mujhe ye sab bulane lagi"he said, Anjali burst out laughing, clutching her stomach as Aryan shook his head dramatically.
Aryan narrowed his eyes, his smirk deepening as he began taking slow, deliberate steps toward her. Anjali's laughter faltered as she instinctively backed away, her movements halting when her back hit the wall.
Before she could react, Aryan caged her between his arms, leaning in close.
"Bahut hasi aa rahi hai, hmm?" he murmured, his tone dripping with playful menace.
"Mujhe do minute bhi nahi lagenge tumhare 'hahaha' ko 'ah-ah-ah' mein badalne mein, wifey."
Her breath hitched as his intense gaze flickered from her lips to her neck, then down to the rapid rise and fall of her chest.
YOU ARE READING
Drenched Heart's
Romance"Drenched Hearts" Anjali, a passionate poetess, and Aryan, the son of a renowned businessman, crossed paths at an art exhibition. Their first encounter was accidental-a splash of ink from Anjali's hand stained Aryan's shirt. But fate had other plans...
