The Rathore's Family

A Hug

"Why aren’t you eating?" Drishti asked, noticing that Advait hadn’t taken even a single bite.

“Actually… I just don’t feel—” he began, but her sharp glare cut him off. “Don’t even think about it,” she said firmly.

“But, Drishti, you have to understand; I really don’t feel like eating,” he tried to explain, his tone softening. She looked at him with determination, turning to pick up his plate. For a second, Advait thought she was letting it go and started to rise. But then she grasped his hand firmly, pushing him back onto the sofa.

“Sit. Quietly,” she instructed, crossing her legs as she settled beside him, making it clear she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Advait gave her a questioning look, but she simply tore off a piece of bread, dipped it into the curry, and held it out to him. “Don’t start acting like royalty, Noor Jahan,” she muttered, her tone slightly annoyed. He sighed, opening his mouth to take the bite, and her frown immediately turned into a smile, her satisfaction showing as he ate.

After making sure he’d finished his meal, she took a few bites herself, then set both plates aside. “See? You’ve cleared the entire plate,” she said with a satisfied smirk. “If I’d let you be, you’d still be sulking and starving.” She handed him a glass of water.

Advait took a sip, watching her with a soft gaze as she admired him, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “It’s alright, go ahead, act spoiled. You have a wife willing to spoil you,” she added, patting herself on the back. He chuckled, setting the glass down.

“By the way, why didn’t you come to dinner?” she asked suddenly.

Advait looked at her, pausing for a moment. “I just… didn’t feel like it.”

“Really?” She cupped his face with gentle hands, her eyes searching his. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Alright, let me take the plates to the kitchen now,” she said, standing up.

“No need, you sit. I’ll take them,” he replied, already moving to collect the plates. Drishti gave him a thumbs-up.

“Look at you, learning,” she teased.

He flashed her a grin. “Well, with a teacher like you, I had to learn. "Neither I have another option nor I want.”

…………………………….

“Why are you sleeping on the sofa?” Advait asked, his patience wearing thin as he repeated himself for what felt like the ninth time.

Drishti was nestled under the blanket, pretending to be fast asleep. But he wasn’t fooled—he knew she was only avoiding him. With a sigh, he leaned over, attempting to pull the blanket away. She held onto it tightly, refusing to budge.

“Drishti, don’t test my patience—or your luck,” he warned in a low, serious tone. Reluctantly, she let go of the blanket, sitting up with an annoyed expression.

“Are you threatening me?” she asked, standing up on the sofa to tower over him, arms crossed. He looked up at her, amused but firm.

“No, I’ve been asking you nicely—why are you sleeping on the sofa?” he said, trying to keep his tone calm.

“Because I always sleep on the sofa,” she replied defiantly, as if that settled it.

He clicked his tongue in frustration. “That’s not an answer.”

Advait’s voice softened but grew more insistent. “I’m saying this for the last time—will you sleep with me?” Her eyes went wide at his words, and he immediately clarified, “I mean, we can share the bed. It’s big enough.”