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The plan had been for Samar's discharge at night but he couldn't wait any longer.

After two long weeks in the hospital, he insisted on coming home by afternoon. The wound on his head had healed well, now only covered by a small bandage for safety.

His arms, chest and hands still had bruises and scratches of the accident. He looked weaker than before but the relief of finally stepping into the house showed in his eyes.

For those two weeks, the house had felt alone. With Samar away, Kittu and Piyali had been the ones holding things together.

They woke up before dawn, tied the cows near the grass, managed breakfast and carried the weight of both households.

Even Kittu usually careless about housework had surprised everyone by helping quietly though it was Piyali who bore most of the responsibility.

Ajay had been running constantly, carrying tiffins, bringing medicines, managing work.

Piyali was deeply grateful knowing how hard it was to travel back and forth to the hospital which was hours away.

She kept sending extra meals, making sure Samar and everyone ate well.

Samar's mother had never once left his side. Though his injuries weren't life-threatening, the blood loss had left him weak and she could not bear to be away from him.

His father managed the rest, visitors, work, farm. while Piyali's mother came sometimes to help her daughter and Kittu at home.

But in truth, the house felt lonely. Especially for Piyali.

That afternoon, she sat quietly on the stairs of her verandah, a book in her lap, though her eyes hardly moved across the pages. Inside, Kittu had fallen asleep in her room, leaving the silence heavier.

Then came the sound of wheels against the courtyard earth. Samar was home.

He stepped out slowly, supported lightly by his father. Neighbors looked from doorways, whispering to each other.

Kittu who was half-asleep, woke up and ran barefoot to him, throwing her arms around him, careful of his bandage.

Across the way, Piyali sat frozen, her breath was stuck in her chest. The book slid shut in her lap.

She wanted to run forward, to see him up close, to touch his hand and assure herself he was well but she stayed stuck to her place, her eyes were overwhelming with tears, with relief she couldn't show to anyone.

Hours later, when the commotion had quieted, Samar was resting in his room. Kittu had dozed beside her mother, while Mr. Sharma sat outside with visitors.

Piyali, hesitant, stepped quietly into his room carrying a small bowl of turmeric milk. She placed it on the side table.

Mrs. Das handled the kitchen, making the lunch for everyone, understanding the house's condition

While Piyali walked towards Samar's room, she carried the cup of milk with the supplements he had to take for the next two weeks.

"lijiye" she whispered, her voice was low. Too overwhelmed to say anything else. But her eyes were stuck on him, not moving for a moment.

[Take this.]

Samar didn't answer at once. He only watched her, his gaze was steady despite the weariness in his body. When she turned to leave, his voice called softly

"Piu."

Her steps stopped. She looked back.

He shifted slightly, sitting up while patting the space near him. Slowly, she came closer and quietly sat beside and then without a word.

He leaned against her, resting his head gently in her lap.

The weight of him shocked her but she didn't move. Her fingers hovered slowly before finding his hair, brushing lightly over the bandage.

"Don't move" he murmured, closing his eyes.

Her throat was tightened. As her hand traced over the scratches on his arm, it could be seen through the best he wore.

Her tears slipped down, falling near his cheek. She quickly looked away, wiping it but he noticed.

"Piu..." His voice was soft and rough. He shifted closer, nuzzling his face into her waist, as though seeking comfort.

"Roo mat, aagya hoon na."

[Don't cry. I am here now.]

Her tears only fell faster. Every bruise on him felt like a wound inside her. She stroked his hair, trembling as though she could take his pain away.

He breathed deeply, sinking more into her presence, his voice came out as a faint whisper.

"Itna rougi toh wapis chala jaunga."

[If you cry so much, I will go back.]

She bent her head, giving a peck on his head while smiling slowly through her tears, her fingers holding his head protectively.

"Ekhon ar tomake jete debo na."

[I won't let you go now.]

Samar's head rested still on her lap, his breathing was now slow and even as though just being near her gave him more strength than the medicines ever could.

Piyali sat without moving a bit, afraid that even the slightest movement might disturb him.

Her hands kept stroking his hair softly, her thumb brushing over the bandage.

After a while, he spoke again.

"Tumhe bohat yaad kiya."

[I Missed you a lot.]

Her eyes stung. She bit her lip, not trusting her voice. Her lips were trembling.

"Ek baar bhi nahi aayi tum." he teased, his lips turning into a weak smile.

[You didn't even come once.]

"Parlam na go...Ami ee shob jinish dekhte pari na....Ar tomake oibhabe dekhte ami ekebarei partam na."

she whispered to herself, guilt was heavy in her voice.

[I couldn't... I just can't bear to see those things... And seeing you like that, I could never have endured it.]

He just kept watching her, listening as she blabbered to herself in her own language. He caught a few words, how she was afraid of such things.

He understood. He was already too used to her habit of mumbling in her language whenever she felt nervous or scared.

"Agar mein aati toh sabko pata chal jata.." she said further, her voice breaking.

[If I had come, everyone would have found out.]

Janta hu..kyu roe ja rahi ho hm?"

[I know... why are you crying, hmm?]

She slowly shook her head in denial, wiping away her tears. He lifted his bruised hand, brushing against her cheeks, cupping them softly as he gently drew her down toward his face.

"Bas, piu, ekdam chup."

[Enough piu, quiet.]

She nodded, biting her lip to hold back the tears. She knew she was being too emotional, but the feelings she had bottled up over the past two weeks all came rushing in at once.

She placed her free hand over his, holding it tightly against her lap. The warmth of his skin, made her feel he was truly back, safe and sound.

Minutes passed in silence. Outside, it was almost going to be evening, Meals were being served to the elders.

Inside, it was just the two of them.

Samar shifted a little, wincing at the ache in his chest. Piyali immediately holds him, worried.

"You shouldn't move-"

"I just want to see you better" he mumbled, adjusting so he could look up at her face.

His eyes softened as he studied her, the way her hair fell loose around her shoulders, the way her eyes still had worry.

He reached, brushing a strand away from her cheek.

"You look tired. Did you even sleep properly these two weeks?"

Her head eyes dropped. Avoiding his eyes.

Their words faded, replaced again by silence.

Piyali leaned back slightly against the headboard, letting him stay where he was, his head against her lap, her hands on his chest.

The rhythm of his breathing slowly steadied as her presence was pulling him into peace.

At one point, she realized he had closed his eyes completely, half-asleep against her.

She continued to caress his hair gently, her tears were now dry, her heart calm. For the first time in weeks, she felt like the world was right again.

When he stirred again, whispering her name in his sleep, she bent down, her lips barely

brushing his forehead, careful of the bandage.

"Ekhanei achhi, ghumiye poro."

[Iam right here, go to sleep.]

The room was quiet again, Samar's head still heavy in Piyali's lap, his eyes were closed as though sleep was pulling him morw. She thought he had finally drifted off when suddenly his voice came

"Piu... give me a kiss."

Her breath caught. For a moment she froze, sure she had misheard.

"What?" she whispered, startled.

His lips curved faintly, though his eyes remained shut.

"Tumne suna maine kya bola."

[You heard what I said.]

Her cheeks got hot. She blinked down at him, in a little disbelief yet shy.

"Ekhon..." she tried to protest but he cut her off.

[Now?]

"I will heal faster if you do." He mumbled, the words carrying the smallest hint of a smile.

Her heart started racing wildly, the shy hesitation all over her face. But his head rested so trustingly against her and in that moment, she couldn't deny him.

Especially when he looked so innocent and sweet while asking for that.

Slowly, nervously, she leaned down and brushed the gentlest kiss against his lips.

A grin broke across his face instantly, boyish and satisfied, though his eyes still didn't open.

"Hmm... that worked" he teased.

Flustered, Piyali buried her face against his neck, her arms circling carefully behind his head. She held him close against her chest, hiding her burning cheeks.

Samar chuckled, the sound low and warm, before nuzzling deeper into her embrace.

"That's better" he whispered, his voice melting into sleep.

Piyali kept holding him, her fingers brushing his head until his breathing evened out completely. She sat there in the quiet knowing this moment would stay with her forever.

The room was dim, the only sound of Samar's steady breathing as he slept against Piyali's chest, her arms wrapped protectively around him. She sat still, eyes closed.

Then-

A soft cough.

Her eyes flew open. The doorway.

Maasa stood there.

Her gaze on them, falling on her son asleep in Piyali's lap. Her face had no anger, no softness either- just a quiet, unreadable expression that made Piyali's stomach twist.

She thought the door was locked.

Slowly, carefully, she slipped her hand from behind Samar's neck, adjusting him gently onto the pillow.

She tucked the sheet below his shoulders, her movements were trembling yet deliberate as though the tiniest sound might wake him up.

For a moment she just sat there, unable to look at Maasa.

Then, gathering herself, she rose to her feet. Her eyes had a trace of fear she couldn't hide. She lowered her head quickly, clutching her dupatta and made her way toward the door.

Maasa's eyes followed her. They were calm but piercing, as though trying to read every hidden thought inside the girl.

Piyali didn't dare meet that gaze. She passed by quietly, her heart hammering, the silence heavier than any words.

Behind her, Samar stirred faintly but didn't wake up. His face peace

ful, unaware of the storm his absence of awareness had left behind.

Maasa stood there for a long moment, her expression giving nothing away, before finally stepping further into the room, her eyes falling once more on her son.

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