Three days before Diwali, Arthit found himself standing nervously in front of Zayn's apartment after college. His heart pounded against his ribs as he debated with himself, his mind torn between two conflicting thoughts - one urged him to go back, to wait for a better time, while the other reminded him that he had already delayed this moment for far too long.
Before he could change his mind, the door to the apartment suddenly opened as if by magic. Arthit's breath hitched—he hadn't even pressed the doorbell or knocked, and there stood Zayn, his boyfriend, smiling at him with a calm yet knowing expression.
Arthit swallowed hard and ran a nervous hand through his hair. "H-hi..." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He avoided Zayn's gaze, staring at the floor instead. "T-tumhe kaise pata ki m-main aaya hun?" (How did y-you know that it's m-me who has come?)
Zayn chuckled, tilting his head slightly. Without hesitation, he lifted Arthit's chin with two fingers, forcing him to meet his gaze. His dark eyes shimmered with warmth as he said, "Tumse itna pyaar jo karta hoon... tumhare aate hi mujhe pata chal jata hai." (It's because I love you so much... I can feel it whenever you are near.)
A deep blush bloomed across Arthit's cheeks at Zayn's words. He whined, "Bhaiya!" in protest, embarrassed yet unable to suppress the fluttering in his chest.
Zayn giggled at the adorable sight of his boyfriend turning into a blushing mess. "Andar nahi aana tumhe?" he teased, stepping aside to give him space to enter. (Don't you want to come in?)
Arthit, still pouting from the teasing, walked in and placed his bag on the couch. Trying to shake off his flustered state, he mumbled, "Main dinner bana dun?" (Should I make dinner?)
Zayn closed the door behind him and walked over to where Arthit stood, still looking nervous. He reached out and gently bopped his nose, a soft smile playing on his lips.
"I don't want you to hurt yourself, so don't worry. Sit here and relax, dinner main bana lunga," he said reassuringly. (I will make dinner.)
Arthit pouted, crossing his arms stubbornly. "Main chhota bachcha nahi hun... aur maine bhabhi se paranthe banana sikh liya hai!" he argued. Then, as if realizing something, he added with a grumble, "Haan, woh circle nahi bante, lekin taste itna bhi kharab nahi hai…" His brows furrowed, and he muttered indignantly, "Tumko poison karke khudko vidhwa banaunga kya main?" (I am not a small kid... And I have already learnt how to make paranthas from bhabhi. Yeah, they are not perfect circles but they are not half as bad in taste... Do you really think I'll poison you to become a widow?)
Zayn let out a soft chuckle, his eyes twinkling with affection. Without hesitation, he looped his arms around Arthit’s neck, pulling him close until their foreheads touched. His voice was gentle yet firm as he murmured, "Tum mujhe zeher bhi khila do to main khushi-khushi kha lunga... but tum hurt ho jao, yeh bardasht nahi hoga." (I will happily have poison if you hand it to me... But if you get hurt, I won't be able to bear it.)
Arthit’s heart skipped a beat, his blush deepening at Zayn’s words. Flustered, he lightly smacked Zayn’s chest. "A-aisi baatein karna band karo!" he scolded, his voice barely above a whisper. Lowering his gaze shyly, he mumbled, "A-apne shauhar ke liye khaana nahi banaunga, toh aur kiske liye banaunga?" (Stop saying things like t-this! If I don't cook for m-my husband, then who will I cook for?)
Zayn chuckled at Arthit’s persistent pout and ran a hand through his hair, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Haan toh main kab mana kiya hai?" he teased, tilting his head. "Shaadi ke baad puri zindagi padi hai humare paas. Jo marzi ho, bana ke khilana... lekin aaj main bana ke khilaunga." His tone turned firm but gentle. "Ab aur kuch mat bolna. Jaake fresh ho jao, thak gaye hoge." (Yes, when did I ask you to not cook? After marriage, our whole life is there. You can cook whatever you want to feed me... But today I want to cook for you. Don't say anymore. Go and freshen up, you must be tired.)
YOU ARE READING
I am his Bride... { an Indian BL saga }
RomanceDivyansh never thought in his worst nightmare that he would be sitting at the marriage altar. But here he was as a replacement for his sister....
