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Morning's calm, a peaceful sight,
Malini sleeps, in Abhishek's gentle light.
Her body's weary, her heart's at rest,
In his arms, she finds a loving nest.
The world outside, fades into the haze,
As he watches her, with a loving gaze.
Her breath's soft whisper, her heart's slow beat,
A symphony, that touches his soul's retreat.
He holds her close, with a tender care,
A love that's pure, beyond compare.
The morning sun, shines bright and bold,
On a love that's growing, young and old.
In his arms, she stirs, and slowly wakes,
A shy smile spreads, like morning's morning makes.
Her eyes meet his, with a loving glance,
A connection forms, a love's sweet dance.
With every breath, with every sigh,
Their love grows stronger, touching the sky.
In each other's arms, they find their peace,
A love that's pure, a love that will never cease.
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28th April, 1846
Calcutta, Bengal
ABHISHEK'S POV~
I squint as a ticklish weight coils lightly around my neck— a soft pressure, warm and oddly comforting.
The morning air is still and hushed, save for the occasional chirp of a waking bird outside the window.
A low groan escapes me as I stretch my neck, blinking away the last strands of sleep.
I slowly open my eyes to the sight of her face nestled against my chest, her breath puffing gently through parted lips.
Her cheek is adorably squished, slightly puffed where her skin presses into the solid warmth of my chest.
My gaze lowers, and a soft chuckle vibrates through me when I spot her right arm slung across my neck like a possessive claim, her leg loosely resting over my thigh— delicate, yet heavy with trust.
The warmth of her body is subtle but constant.
She's no longer tense; the discomfort that wracked her frame last night seems to have melted away.
Her lashes flutter faintly, but she doesn't stir.
I exhale slowly, a faint smile tugging at my lips.
"Looks like her cramps have subsided," I whisper, my voice barely a breath.
With tender fingers, I reach up and tuck a loose, silken strand of hair behind her ear, my knuckles grazing her smooth temple.
The soft scent of hibiscus oil lingers in her tresses, a delicate reminder of the care shared the early dawn before.
While gazing at her sleeping face, serene and unaware, my eyes unconsciously trail downward… only to pause at the gentle swell of her chest, where the neckline of her blouse reveals a subtle glimpse of her cleavage.
It's unintentional… but arresting.
Heat creeps up my neck.
I clear my throat softly, dragging my gaze back to her face with effort, as if yanked by guilt.
Her expression remains unbothered… lips slightly parted, lashes fanned against her cheeks, breathing slow and rhythmic.
My hand, acting on instinct, slides to her waist and begins to gently knead the area I'd been massaging earlier, careful not to wake her.
The warmth of her skin seeps through the thin fabric, making my fingers hesitate— lingering longer than intended.
I shut my eyes tight, trying to silence the thoughts creeping into my mind like fog at dawn.
Focus, Abhishek.
She's sleeping.
She's vulnerable.
"She's your wife," a sly voice murmurs inside me, seductive in its temptation.
A twisted comfort.
A justification.
My throat tightens as I swallow the thought whole, teeth gently clamping on my lower lip.
"But her consent matters the most," I murmur under my breath, barely louder than the sound of our breathing.
I inhale deeply, then exhale in a controlled rhythm, my palm rising and falling slightly with each breath pressed between us.
Just then, she shifts in her sleep.
I freeze.
Her chest brushes firmly against my side, pressing into my ribs through the thin cotton of my kurta.
Her breath fans across my sternum— warm, soft, and disarming.
My heartbeat stutters and then quickens, like hooves against temple stone.
My entire body tenses in reflex, unsure whether to move or stay still.
"She's testing my patience," I mutter under my breath, dragging the back of my palm over my eyes and forehead, as if that could wipe away the heat building behind them.
A soft, sluggish whimper escapes her lips… barely audible, yet enough to make my senses tighten.
She shifts under the blanket, stirring with slow, disoriented movements like a bird ruffling its feathers after a storm.
I lower my palm from my eyes and blink at the morning light filtering through the window.
Beside me, she rubs her eyes with the back of her hand, lids fluttering open like petals waking to the sun.
"Abhi…" she murmurs, her voice fragile like a breath caught between sleep and wakefulness.
Her gaze wanders hazily across the room before it finds me… anchoring to my face as though it's the only familiar thing in her blurry world.
"Good morning, Phoenix," I whisper, my thumb gliding in slow, lazy circles on her waist… a silent reassurance that I'm here, and she's safe.
"…Good morning, Abhi," she whispers back, her lips brushing my chest as she lifts her face slowly, blinking up at me with sleep-drenched eyes.
"Are you still in pain?" I ask gently, watching her closely, my eyes scanning her features for even the smallest flicker of discomfort.
I exhale slowly, watching her shake her head with a small, barely-there smile as she mouths a breathless 'No', her fingers curling faintly around the edge of the blanket.
I push myself upright, sliding one arm gently behind her back, guiding her as she leans forward with a soft sigh.
Her body feels warm and heavy from sleep, her saree rustling faintly as she shifts against me.
"I… I need to change," she whispers, her voice faint as she clutches the edge of her saree tighter, eyes flickering with self-consciousness.
Before I can nod, her body stiffens slightly, and her eyes snap wider— startled, as if a memory just struck her like a chill breeze.
Her breath catches, and I feel a shift in the atmosphere— tense, brittle.
"What happened?" I murmur, instantly cupping her thigh with my palm, my thumb stroking soothing circles over the goosebumps rising on her skin. "Is it the cramps again? Talk to me, phoenix."
"I… I slept on the bed?!" she breathes out in disbelief, recoiling slightly as her gaze darts to the mattress like it's sacred ground she trespassed.
"Yes. So?" I reply, arching a brow, half-confused, half-amused at her startled reaction.
"I-I'm not allowed to sleep on the bed!" she exclaims, voice cracking as she hurriedly pushes herself backward, scrambling like a startled deer, her fingers trembling as they grip the edge of the mattress.
I lean forward without thinking before she can escape further, slipping my arm around her waist and guiding her back into me, anchoring her to me.
She lets out a startled gasp as her back meets my chest, her breath hitching as if unsure whether to resist or melt.
Her breath stuttering at the contact as I hold her firm but gentle… like a tether to safety.
"Shh… calm down, phoenix," I whisper, my breath fanning over the shell of her ear.
A soft tremor runs through her frame as I press closer, her hair tickling my cheek, carrying the scent of hibiscus and sleep, her shoulders barely quivering against me like a leaf in wind.
"It's allowed. You deserve this rest, and should sleep on the bed" I murmur, angling my face to catch hers. "And you'll sleep on the bed. No questions. Understood?"
"B-but—" she tries, her voice barely a whisper.
I slide my palm up along her side, brushing soft patterns against her ribcage, drawing slow, lazy spirals.
Her breath stutters, the protest fading into silence.
"No buts," I murmur, letting my lips graze the curve of her earlobe, voice low, deliberate. "You're going to sleep on the bed, and that's final. And if you try to argue again… I'll make sure you forget how."
Her breath hitches, and I feel her heartbeat flutter like a trapped bird.
"Answer me, phoenix," I whisper against her skin, gently pressing my thumb along her rib.
She inhales sharply, her stomach tightening under my touch, torn between obedience and lingering fear.
It's not just about the bed…. it's about trust.
Her trust.
"Y-yes," she breathes, her voice small yet sincere.
Her head tips back and her eyes lift slowly, glassy with hesitation, flickering up to meet mine.
A sliver of trust peeks through her lashes like dawn through mist… a fragile mix of trust and uncertainty.
"Now… just rest your body," I hum, letting my chin rest atop her head.
I begin to gently massage her belly in slow, comforting circles, coaxing her to relax into my embrace, to feel safe… feeling the slight rise and fall of her breath against my arms.
Her body softens in my hold, like a weary flower folding into dusk.
While gently massaging her lower abdomen and the sides of her ribs, my knuckles inadvertently graze the soft swell of her chest.
I freeze… completely still for a heartbeat… as I feel her entire body flinch ever so slightly.
A delicate gasp, featherlight and breathy, slips from her lips, almost too faint to catch.
"I… I'm really sorry," I murmur, my voice low with guilt. "I didn't mean to."
I immediately lower my hand, returning to the safer territory of her lower belly, where I resume the soothing circular strokes— slower, more cautious this time.
Tilting my head, I glance at her flushed face.
"Are you okay, phoenix?" I ask gently. "Should I stop?"
She lowers her lashes and takes a shaky breath.
"N-no… I-it's okay, Abhi," she whispers, her voice trembling with a cocktail of shyness and reassurance. "You're… my… hus-band."
The way she stumbles over the word… like it's still too new, too intimate… makes something tighten in my chest.
Her ears flush a bright red, and a warm, pink hue paints her cheeks as she shyly bites her bottom lip, trying to hide the flood of emotions swirling inside her.
A slow, knowing smirk curves my lips.
She's adapting.
She's learning— tentatively, adorably, and beautifully fast.
Her growth tells what kind of man I am.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻.✾.჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻
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