#𝟐 𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬
✮⋆˙ 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 ✮ ⋆˙
"And since you mentioned I'm Agnihotri, you should know the powers I possess." My throat went dry as he spoke, and my heart filled with frustration towards...
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KASHI'S POV
[Kaisha 5 years, Reyaan 15]
"Kaisha," I breathe out a laugh, struggling with the pleats of my saree for the third time. The fabric refuses to cooperate this morning. I must look ridiculous.
My little girl's giggle echoes through the room like a bell. "Mumma!" she shrieks with delight, tiny hands clapping as she watches me get entangled in my own clothes.
I glance over and find her sitting comfortably in her father's lap, her head resting against his chest, her curls all messy and her face still puffy from sleep even though she woke up an hour back. She looks so at home there, like that spot was made just for her.
Adhikrit presses a featherlight kiss to the crown of her head, his eyes soft and full of something I can never quite describe—something between worship and wonder. His entire world sits in his arms right now.
Kaisha cranes her neck up to look at him, all bright-eyed and cheeky. "Papa," she says, pausing dramatically, "Mumma silly, no?" She's slurring a little, probably still half-asleep. My saree struggle has clearly entertained her more than any cartoon ever could.
Adhikrit chuckles, completely smitten. He doesn't even bother to correct her. Instead, he gently lifts her little hand and places a kiss right on her palm, like she's royalty. Like she's something sacred.
I shake my head, pretending to be annoyed, but my heart is a puddle. This is how our mornings usually begin—me getting ready, Kaisha climbing all over her father, and him listening like every word out of her mouth is philosophy.
And maybe to him, it is. He looks at her like she hung the stars in the sky.
Her father, who is now my part time husband, turns into this soft, mushy, borderline obsessed version of himself the second she opens her mouth. It's embarrassing. Adorable. And entirely unfair. I don't even get that kind of attention anymore.
Well... most days.
I adjust my saree again and fix my bindi in the mirror. "Okay, let's head downstairs before Kaisha decides to start another TED Talk."
Adhikrit walks over slowly, Kaisha walks behind him. There's that look again—warmth, fondness, a hint of pride. He cups my jaw like I'm fragile, something precious.
"Bohot pyar karte hain aapse hum, Kashi," he murmurs, brushing his lips against my forehead. Once. Then again. Slower this time. Like the moment deserves to be savored.
[I love you so much, Kashi.]
I roll my eyes playfully. "Haan, aur Kaisha ke baad toh aur bhi zyada na?" I tease, stealing a glance at our daughter who's now hiding behind her father's legs like she's been caught eavesdropping. She peeks out with the tiniest grin.
