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After finishing all the Diwali shopping, it was already late. The village roads were quiet except for the barking of a dog and the jingling of cow-bells from somewhere in the distance.

Samar sat on the cart with Piyali beside him, her head resting gently on his shoulder. She had dozed off, too tired from the long day, her breath warm against his skin.

The cold chill grew as the cart rolled slowly along the path and Samar instinctively wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to shield her from the cold.

Even in her sleep, Piyali's small hand gripped the front of his kurta tightly, her fist pressed against his stomach as if afraid he might slip away from her again.

Samar looked down at her peaceful face, a faint smile at his lips, though his eyes softened with a protectiveness only she could draw out of him.

Their shopping bags lay piled near their feet with clay diyas, sweets, and colorful fabrics.

In the far distance, a few homes had already lit their diyas early, tiny flames like stars scattered across the village, guiding them home.

The Sharma house courtyard, or angan, was glowing under the sunlight. The first day of Diwali had brought warmth in everything.

The strings of marigold on the walls ,the twinkling fairy lights in the verandah and the soft scent of ghee diyas.

Piyali sat cross-legged near the tulsi pot, bent over her half-finished rangoli. Her hands moved as she filled the petals with color, her maroon-red kurti laying against the floor.

It was a simple outfit, yet it carried that effortless elegance only she could pull off. Her long braid, slightly loose, slipped to one side as a few strands were against her flushed cheeks that were slowly turning a shade redder due to someone was unapologetically looking at her from the past few minutes.

The bangles on her wrist the very ones Samar had gifted her on Diwali, moved softly as she worked.

Across the angan, Samar and Ajay were lounging on a woven khaat, watching the neighborhood kids light crackers.

Samar, usually calm and reserved, had a rare softness on his face today. Ajay was laughing, chasing after the children, helping them light sparklers and phuljhadis.

Near the rasoi, both mothers sat with a few neighbor ladies, rolling and frying gujiyas and mathris. The men sat in the far corner, chatting with each other, occasionally glancing fondly at the chaos around them.

"Kya re Piyu... badi laal laal ho rahki hai aaj" one of the aunties teased from the rasoi steps, making the others giggle.

[Oh Piyu... you're turning all red today!]

Piyali looked up just for a second, smiled shyly and ducked her head again, pretending to focus on the rangoli.

She didn't dare look toward Samar. She knew too well that he was staring at her. that calm, unbothered man, sitting with folded arms, yet his gaze followed her every move.

Even the kids caught on.

"Bhaiyaaa idhar toh dekho na!" one of them yelled, holding a cracker "Hume ye jala do!"

[Brother, look here.]

[Light this one for us.]

Samar blinked and cleared his throat, looking away, but a faint smile tugged at his lips.

Just then, in an attempt to distract himself. Samar lit a chakri, the spinning ground cracker. Only, this one didn't behave as expected.

Within seconds, it whirled wildly in the wrong direction, bouncing off the ground and spinning straight toward Piyali's beautiful rangoli.

The bright sparks landed right in the middle of her carefully drawn design. Before anyone could react, a part of the rangoli smudged, the colors scattering across the floor.

"Kyaaa bhaiyaa!" Kittu's voice came sharp and dramatic.

[Brother, what did you do!]

Samar froze, eyes widening as he stared at the damage... then at the two girls.

Piyali had stopped moving. Her lips parted slightly, and her eyes, those soft brown eyes, now narrowed at him.

The kids instantly began apologizing.

"Sorry Didi"

[Sorry, Sister]

"Galti se ho gaya"

[It happened by mistake]

Piyali took a slow breath, calming herself. Then she looked at the kids and gave a small, composed smile.

"Koi baat nahi" she said softly.

[It's okay.]

But Samar knew her well enough to see that spark of irritation behind her calm voice, the one only meant for him.

As she stood up, brushing her palms against her kurti, a bit of the colored powder had already stained the fabric.

She sighed quietly and walked toward the room inside to wash it off but not before sending Samar one last pointed look.

Samar sat there, scratching the back of his neck, half-embarrassed, half-amused.

"Bhari pad gaya yaar..." he mumbled under his breath, watching her disappear inside.

[Now I'm in trouble...]

Ajay laughed from the side.

"Ab toh tu gaya kaam se"

[you're done for]

With a resigned sigh and a small, sheepish smile, Samar stood up and followed her in because honestly, how could he ever sit still when she was angry?

Inside the Room

Piyali sat on the edge of the bed, a small steel bowl of water beside her. Her maroon-red kurti now had a light smear of blue and yellow near the hem.

She took a soft cotton cloth, dipped it in water, and gently began wiping the stain, her lips forming a pout.

"Aate koshto koriye shob noshto hoye gelo..." she mumbled under her breath, her voice low and sulky.

[After so much effort, everything got ruined...]

Then, switching to her mother tongue, she sighed softly.

Her head didn't turn, but she felt it, that familiar presence at the door.

Samar stood there for a moment, watching her from the doorway, her braid was slightly loose, the pout still visible and her fingers moving gently as she wiped her dress.

He could see she wasn't really angry... just disappointed. And somehow, that felt worse.

He cleared his throat softly, a small, unsure sound.

But Piyali didn't look up. She simply continued rubbing the cloth over the stain, pretending to be lost in her task.

Samar walked in slowly and without a word, sat down on the floor in front of her, his face almost level with her lap.

Piyali glanced down in surprise, frowning a little.

"Kya kar rahe hai... uthiye" she said softly, the irritation still lingering in her tone.

[What are you doing... get up.]

But when she saw his expression, that small, guilty smile, those eyes that were half-sorry and half-clueless. The annoyance began to melt away.

Without saying a word, Samar gently took the cloth from her hand and started wiping the color stain himself, his movements careful and gentle.

Piyali immediately held his wrist.

"Kya kar rahe hai aap?" she asked, her voice low but filled with disbelief.

[What are you doing?]

He looked up at her, eyes innocent and voice steady.

"Saaf kar raha hu" he said simply.

[Cleaning it.]

Piyali sighed, shaking her head.

"Aap chhodiye, hum kar lenge" she murmured.

[Leave it, I'll do it.]

But Samar didn't listen.

Instead, he gently caught both her wrists and moved them aside, holding them softly near her knees. Then, with the other hand, he continued cleaning the fabric, his touch light.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room was filled with the faint glow of diyas flickering outside, the laughter of children and the warmth of their silence.

Piyali sat still, her eyes fixed on him her heart unknowingly softening.

The irritation she'd been holding onto slowly disappeared.

She didn't say another word, just watched him with quiet eyes, her pout slowly turning into a tiny, smile.

"Aap kabse yuh patake fodne lage hai, bachchon ki tarah?" Piyali muttered under her breath, still avoiding his eyes.

[Since when did you start bursting crackers like a child?]

Samar let out a soft chuckle.

"Barson baad toh chhua tha" he said, shaking his head lightly, "ab toh wo bhi nahi karunga."

[I touched them after so many years, now I won't even do that.]

The slight fear in his tone, that mix of guilt and innocence made Piyali's lips curve into a faint smile.

She glanced down at him for a second, her heart softening. She wasn't really angry... just a little annoyed. And truth be told, her mood wasn't helping either, her body was already tired, her cramps quietly nagging due to her dates nearing.

So she stayed quiet, letting him do what he was doing.

He wiped the stains carefully until her kurti looked almost as good as before.

Then he stood up, still loosely holding her wrist, only letting go halfway as he placed the cloth aside on the table next to the bed.

The bangles on her wrist jingled lightly.

Samar then sat down beside her, leaning back comfortably against the edge of the bed, his eyes lifting to meet hers.

"Neeche nahi jana aapko?" she asked, her tone calm.

[You're not going downstairs?]

"Kya karenge neeche?" he replied, tilting his head.

[What will I do downstairs?]

"Patake fodiyega aap..." she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she turned her face away, pretending to be uninterested.

[You can burst crackers...]

Samar smiled slightly. The hand that had been holding her wrist gave a soft, playful tug and before she could react, she found herself landing lightly against his chest.

"Kitna ruthti ho..." he murmured, his voice a mix of fondness and acceptance.

[You get upset so easily...]

Piyali looked up briefly, a faint pout on her lips.

"Abhi se hi thak gaye aap."

[You're tired already...]

"Thaka kaha hu... bas keh raha hu" he said softly, wrapping his arm gently around her lower back.

[I'm not tired... just saying.]

Her cheek rested against his chest now, feeling the steady sound of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body felt oddly soothing, the ache in her lower stomach easing a little.

Samar's other hand rested on her lap, his fingers absentmindedly playing with her bangles, their soft clinking in the quiet room.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the faint scent of his.

Samar had been noticing it all, her emotions were higher than usual, her movements a little slower. He raised his hand and gently brushed his fingers along her cheek.

"Koi taklif hai?" he asked quietly.

[Are you in pain?]

Piyali didn't open her eyes, only gave a small shake of her head.

After a moment, she whispered

"Ladkiyon ki baate hai... aap nahi samjhenge."

[It's a girls' thing... you won't understand.]

He smiled faintly.

"Toh tumhari baate toh samjhenge na... wohi bata do."

[But I can understand your things... just tell me that.]

Her lips curved into a small giggle.

"Kuch nahi... aap chinta mat kariye."

[Nothing... don't worry.]

Samar sighed softly, not pushing further. He could guess, but he respected her silence. If she didn't want to speak, he wouldn't make her.

His hand moved slowly, caressing her back, his touch light, comforting. Then, almost instinctively, his fingers brushed her waist, gently massaging in small circles, trying to ease the pain without saying a word.

Piyali relaxed even more, her eyes still closed, her breathing calmer now.

For a few quiet minutes, they stayed like that, two people tucked away from the noise and lights outside, finding their own peace in silence.

After a while, Piyali finally opened her eyes, looking up at him with a small, softened smile.

"Chaliye... sab neeche intezaar kar rahe honge" she said gently.

[Let's go... everyone must be waiting downstairs.]

Samar nodded, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead.

"Chalo" he murmured, his tone warm.

[Let's go.]

The moment Samar and Piyali stepped out of the room.

The sky had already turned a soft orange, and the entire angan was glowing with diyas lined neatly along the walls.

Ajay was still with the kids, trying to light a rocket while a group of them jumped and shouted excitedly.

"Arre bhai, dur jala! Nahi toh ye bhi ud jaaegi" Ajay said loudly, laughing.

[Hey, light it from a distance Or this one will fly off too]

Everyone burst out laughing even Piyali couldn't stop herself. Samar shook his head, half-smiling.

Their mothers, sitting near the rasoi with plates of freshly fried gujiyas, looked up at the two walking together.

Piyali's mother smiled knowingly, nudging Samar's mother with her elbow.

"Dono milke aaye hain..." she whispered playfully.

[They came together...]

Samar's mother chuckled softly.

Piyali lowered her eyes hearing the words faintly from the distance, adjusting her dupatta.

Samar glanced at her once, a quiet warmth look.

Kittu came running toward them, holding a sparkler.

"Bhaiyaa, Piyu. Dekh na, ab hamne naya rangoli banaya" she said, proudly pointing to a new design near the tulsi pot.

[Brother, Piyu! Look, we made a new rangoli]

The new rangoli wasn't as perfect as the first one, but its colors were bright, a mix of pink, green, and yellow drawn beautifully.

Piyali knelt beside it, smiling warmly.

"Bohot sundar banaya hai Kittu" she said softly, admiring it, quietly lighting a diya at the edge of the rangoli.

[You have made it very beautifully, Kittu.]

The night had settled softly over the Sharma house. Yet the noises of crackers and children weren't less.

Piyali and Kittu sat together on the small stairs near the pillar of the courtyard, their bangles giggling as they moved their hands.

Both had fresh mehendi drawn on their palms dark, delicate designs curling beautifully across their skin in preparation for Bhai Dooj.

They sat watching the neighborhood kids run around with sparklers, the light flickering across their faces.

Ajay was sitting beside Dadi, talking making her laugh every now and then. Maasa's voice came from near the small Mandir they had at home calmly.

"Beta Samar! Ye prasad le ja... Kittu aur Piu ko de de, aur tu aur Ajay bhi thoda kha lena."

[Samar, son! Take this prasad... give some to Kittu and Piu and you and Ajay have some too.]

Samar, who had just stepped inside after finishing some work outside, nodded and took the plate from her hands, ladoos and barfi.

He walked toward the stairs where Piyali and Kittu were sitting.

Piyali looked up as he stopped before them. The light from the diyas made his face glow faintly.

Without saying a word, Samar took one small piece of ladoo. He leaned down slightly and touched the hand holding the sweet to her head first, a small, almost gesture to thank god before holding it to her lips.

Piyali's eyes softened as she took the bite, her heart quietly swelling at his thoughtfulness. She didn't speak, just smiled faintly, her gaze lowering again.

Beside Kittu looking at the jaw dropping scene with her mouth open.

Before she could even open her mouth to tease or make a comment, another piece of barfi was already pressed into her mouth.

Her eyes went wide. She puffed her cheeks, glaring at her brother.

"Dekha, tumhe kaise pyaar se khilaya, aur hume toh bas thus diya" she managed to say, her words muffled through a mouth full of sw

eetness.

[See how lovingly he fed you and he just stuffed mine in]

Piyali couldn't help it, she burst out laughing, hiding her face against her knees.

Samar only shook his head as he walked off toward Ajay and Dadi nonchalantly.

Behind him, Kittu's dramatic sigh echoed, making even Ajay's chuckle from afar.

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