•𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐔𝐧𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐰!•

39. Us.

N A K S H A T R A

The next morning, sunlight crept through the curtains of our home, casting soft rays over the room. I stirred, blinking away the remnants of sleep, and found him already awake, watching me with that look that always made my heart race.

"Good morning, mi amor precioso," he whispered, his voice thick with sleep but filled with warmth.

I smiled, feeling a flutter in my chest at the sound of his nickname for me. "Mi amor precioso? Really?" I teased, still half asleep but already feeling the warmth of his words. "I thought I was the one who wore the tiara here, not you."

He chuckled softly, his lips curling up at the corners. "You’ll always wear the tiara in my eyes, mi amor," he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. "But today, I think I’ll crown you with a kiss instead."

I raised an eyebrow, my heart racing as I playfully pulled the blanket over my head. "Oh, no, I think I’m safe under here," I said, trying to hide my smile. "I’m not ready for your royal treatment this early."

He didn’t let me hide for long. He tugged the blanket away with a grin, crawling closer to me. "Not so fast, mi amor," he teased, his voice laced with mischief. "You’re not getting away from me that easily."

I let out a small laugh, still trying to escape, but his arms were already around me. "You’re too clingy, you know that?" I said, giggling as he pulled me into his chest.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear. "Clingy? I prefer ‘loving’," he whispered, his fingers gently tracing circles on my back. "I can’t help it when you’re this adorable."

I rolled my eyes, feeling a warm blush spread across my cheeks. "Well, you’re going to have to get used to me being a little independent," I said with a teasing smile.

He smirked, tightening his hold on me. "Independent, huh? I’ll still manage to keep you close," he murmured, kissing my forehead. "You’re mine, mi amor."

I laughed softly, sinking into him. "You’re impossible," I said, but the smile on my face made it clear I didn’t mind one bit.

We finally reached the kitchen, and I could already tell it was going to be a battlefield. Adhwit was wearing his apron with a mischievous grin, and I could see the challenge in his eyes as we were about to start cooking breakfast.

"Alright, mi amor precioso, what’s the plan? Are you actually going to cook, or should I take over?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I reached for the flour.

Adhwit shot me a playful look, puffing out his chest dramatically. "I’m the chef here, don’t worry." His confidence was almost ridiculous, but I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him in the apron, looking like a goofy yet adorable chef.

I shook my head, laughing. "You, a chef? The only thing you can cook up is chaos."

"Watch and learn, mi pequeña traviesa," he teased, calling me his little troublemaker. His playful grin made me smile wider, and I nudged him gently with my shoulder.

We got started, and it didn’t take long before flour was flying everywhere. I reached for the tomatoes, but Adhwit, in his usual clumsy way, knocked one off the counter with his elbow, sending it rolling across the floor.

"Really, mi amor precioso?" I laughed, pointing at the mess. "Are we cooking or having a food fight?"

Adhwit raised his hands innocently, a grin tugging at his lips. "It’s all part of the creative process," he said, giving me a wink that made me roll my eyes but also burst out laughing.