Diya sat cross-legged on the bed now, still clutching Agni’s phone. The name “Firefly” glowed on the screen like a quiet secret between them. Her cheeks were warm — that soft, shy warmth she still wasn’t used to showing him.
She looked up at him, eyes narrowed playfully. “Aapko pata hai? Agar main kabhi gussa ho gayi na, toh sabse pehle yeh naam badalwaungi.”
Agni raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. “Pehle gussa hone ke liye reason toh dijiye. Tab tak… rehne dijiye.”
She bit back a grin and lightly nudged his arm with her elbow. Then she sighed, glancing around the half-open suitcase and piles of gift boxes stacked neatly in the corner. Where could that phone be?
She tapped her number on his phone and hit “Call.”
Tring Tring.
Somewhere in the corner near the wardrobe, a faint buzz and the soft ring of her phone echoed — muffled under layers of colorful gift wraps and sarees they hadn’t yet unpacked.
She slid off the bed with a small laugh. “Sun rahe hain? Kahaan chhupa diya aapne?”
Agni just leaned back against the headboard, arms folded, watching her like she was the best kind of chaos. “Main nahi… aap hi ne rakh diya hoga. Meri toh aadat hi nahi kisi cheez ko chhupane ki.”
She turned, giving him a look. “Haan haan… sab pata hai mujhe!”
She knelt down by the gifts — soft silks, shiny paper, wedding cards from relatives — and rummaged through carefully. Finally, buried under a big pink box, she found it — her phone, the back cover still glinting with the little sticker of a cartoon diya her best friend had stuck on it before the wedding.
She picked it up like a child who’d found a lost toy. “Mil gaya!” she whispered triumphantly, brushing imaginary dust off it.
Then she turned and looked at him, her grin still there. “Aapko pata hai? Agar aapka phone nahi hota toh main do din tak sabko phone nahi kar paati. Pata nahi kya kya soch lete log!”
Agni shrugged, but his eyes were fond. “Main hoon na. Koi kuch nahi sochega. Agar koi pooche, toh keh dijiye — aapke Firefly ka phone mere paas tha.”
Diya rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile as she walked back to the bed and flopped down next to him — her phone finally safe in her hands.
They sat there for a moment, shoulder to shoulder — the room still a mess of wedding leftovers and new beginnings.
And tucked somewhere in all that — a warmth that didn’t need any more words.
___________________________________________
A soft knock on the half-open door pulled Diya out of her little bubble. She quickly sat up straighter, tucking her phone under the pillow like a teenager caught gossiping. Agni just turned his head calmly, a flicker of a smile in his eyes.
Komal ji peeked inside, her saree pallu draped gracefully over her shoulder, a warm smile dancing on her lips. She had a small tray in her hand — two cups of steaming tea, and a plate with some leftover halwa from Diya’s pehli rasoi.
“Tum dono ko disturb toh nahi kar rahi?” she asked, stepping in fully now, eyes twinkling with that affectionate mischief only mothers have.
Diya instantly shook her head. “Nahi, mummy ji! Bilkul nahi. Aaiye na!”
Komal ji placed the tray on the side table and settled down at the edge of the bed beside Diya, gently brushing back a stray strand of hair from Diya’s face. “Pehli rasoi bohot achhi thi. Sabko aapka halwa bahut pasand aaya. Bas… thoda zyada meetha tha.”
YOU ARE READING
"Ehsaas"~ A Story Of Falling In Love
Romance"For all the girls who crave a love that's gentle in the daylight yet consuming in the dark. The kind of man who holds your hand with warmth, speaks with quiet devotion, and protects you like his own heart-until the door closes. Then, he's all fire...
