Samar stood in front of the dressing table in the room, fastening his watch as he straightened the folds of his kurta.

The dressing table was messy, filled with Piyali’s jewellery and little things she had worn the night before heavy bangles, pins and the sindoor box that had been left open in a hurry.

Before he had even woken up properly, she had already been taken away to the other room to get ready for the next rituals.

His mother had come earlier to wake his tired self and had told him to wear the kurta she had kept out for him.

Still half asleep, he had only nodded, ruffling his hair away from his forehead.

This had been the longest and peaceful sleep he had in days.

Before his mother could leave the room, he called out softly,

“Maa… Piyali?”

His mother smiled knowingly before answering,

“Wo muh dikhayi ke liye tayyar ho rahi hai.”

(She is getting ready for the muh dikhayi ritual.)

Samar nodded, letting out a quiet sigh.

He wasn’t exactly annoyed… but the house was full of people and somehow everyone had access to his wife except him.

After freshening up, he walked down the stairs of the new haveli.

The entire verandah below was filled with women.

Bright sarees, laughter and curious whispers filled the air as they all sat around in a circle…

surrounding the new bride.

He quietly went and sat aside with the men of the house.

Someone pushed a chair toward him and within seconds a few aunties appeared with trays of tea and snacks.

“Arre dulhe raja ko chai toh do” one of them laughed as she placed a cup in his hand.

(Someone serve tea to the groom.)

Samar nodded politely, murmuring a soft dhanyawad.

But his attention wasn’t really there.

His eyes kept drifting toward the other side of the verandah.

Piyali sat timidly between the ladies, her head slightly lowered, the end of her saree pulled gently over her head.

Her hands rested quietly in her lap as the women around her kept moving around her.

“Arre bahu, zara pallu toh uthao… hum bhi toh dekhein dulhan ko.”

“Oh ho, sharma kyun rahi hai? Thodi sharam raat ke liye bacha le.”

Laughter rippled through the group as few understood the meaning behind the words.

(Oh girl, lift your veil a bit… let us also see the bride.)

(Oh my, why are you blushing so much? Save a little of that shyness for the night.)

Piyali only smiled awkwardly, her cheeks turning red as she avoided looking up.

Samar lifted the cup to his lips, pretending to drink his tea.

But his gaze stayed on her.

Watching how small and quiet she looked sitting among so many people…and how every now and then she nervously twisted the edge of her saree between her fingers.

She had been to coy and timid this days, the mostest he had seen her ever be.

Their eyes met across the verandah under her veil.

And just as quickly, she looked down again.

The corner of Samar’s lips lifted slightly, just a few days and she is going to eat my ears off complaining how much they had teased her. He thought.

Before Samar could look away, one of the older aunties suddenly noticed where his eyes were.

Her lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“Arre arre… dekho toh zara,” she said loudly, nudging the woman beside her. “Dulha babu ki nazar toh bas yahin atki hai.”

(Hey… just look at that, The groom’s eyes seem to be stuck right here.)

A few ladies turned to look at him, eyes filled with mischief.

Samar straightened slightly in his chair, clearing his throat as he pretended to focus on his tea.

But the teasing had already begun

One aunty leaned toward Piyali and gently lifted the edge of her veil.

“Bahu, zara seedha baitho. Tumhare pati dev toh door se hi muh dikhayi kar rahe hain.”

(Daughter-in-law, sit up straight a little. Your dear husband seems to be having his muh dikhayi from afar already.)

The whole group burst into laughter.

Piyali’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as she lowered her eyes even more.

Then another aunty suddenly stood up, clapping her hands lightly.

“Arre bhai, jab dulha khud yahan baitha hai toh asli muh dikhayi toh usi se honi chahiye”

(Arre brother, when the groom himself is sitting here, then the real muh dikhayi should be done by him.)

(Haa bhai haaa, Ham ashirwad de rahe hain..hamara bhi toh kuch Banta haina.)

(Yes, yes… we are giving our blessings. We also deserve something in return, don’t we?)

All eyes turned toward Samar.

He froze mid-sip.

“Humse?” he asked quietly.

(Me?)

The men beside him chuckled while someone behind him murmured, “Haan bhai Samar, rasam hai...karle yaar.”

(Yes brother, it's a tradition...do it bro.)

The aunties extended their hands expectantly. Honestly it was a made up thing, just wanting to make some money out of the groom.

He looked towards his mother to find her smiling, she nods at him.

Samar sighed softly, giving up their demands.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet and took out a few crisp notes.

“Bas itna?” one aunty immediately complained dramatically. Though the money was in bundle.

(That's all?)

“Arre dulha babu, Itna kharcha shaadi mein aur baraatiyon pe kanjusi shobha nahi deti.”

(After spending so much on the wedding, it doesn’t look good to be stingy with the wedding guests.)

Shaking his head, Samar quietly added a few more notes to the stack and handed them over.

Satisfied, the aunty nodded proudly, ruffling his hair as she leaves.

“Accha, ab ji bhar dekho.”

(Alright, look to your heart’s content.)

For a moment, the chatter softened as they gently lifted Piyali’s veil.

Samar’s gaze finally settled fully on her face.

Her eyes were lowered, lashes trembling slightly, a small smile resting on her lips.

And for the first time since morning…

he properly saw his wife.

And all the Chaos was worth it.

Piyali hesitated before slowly glancing up.

Their eyes met again.

Piyali quickly looked away, her cheeks warming with shyness from all the attention around her and especially from his gaze.

There was something different in Samar’s eyes nowadays.

A quiet intensity that made her heart flutter whenever their eyes met.

Soon after the rituals ended, Piyali was sent to her room to rest for the day.

Everyone had their meal afterward.

Samar had gone out to drop a few relatives and was expected to return by evening.

⁠✿

The evening felt unusually calm after the chaos of the past week.

The haveli, which had been overflowing with guests, laughter, and constant noise, finally felt peaceful.

Now only the close family members remained her own family and her in-laws.

They were planning to leave after the muh dikhai but Piyali didn’t want them to go so soon.

So she had gently convinced both her sasuma and maa to stay for a few more days.

After some persuasion, they agreed only until the pehli rasoi. After that, they would return to their own homes.

Piyali had felt a little sad hearing that.

But she understood the reason behind it.

They wanted to give the couple some privacy.

Right now, Piyali was in the kitchen.

She wore a simple yet beautiful saree, her pallu resting carelessly over her shoulder.

A few loose strands of hair had escaped her braid from the long day.

Beside her stood Kittu.

The two girls were making some snacks and tea for everyone, quietly enjoying the peaceful moment together.

Just then, the distant sound of a jeep engine echoed from outside.

Samar had arrived.

Kittu, who was arranging the samosas onto a plate, glanced mischievously toward Piyali.

She smirked.

“Lo bhabhiji… aapke pati parmeshwar aa gaye.”

(Look, dear sister-in-law… your lord husband has arrived.)

Piyali gave her a quick side-eye, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips as she finished pouring tea into the cups.

“Toh?”

(So?)

Kittu gasped dramatically, clearly enjoying testing her patience.

“Toh kya? Jayiye daud ke… jaake unhe chai-paani dijiye. Unhe haath-muh dhulwaiye.”

(What do you mean ‘so’? Go quickly… serve him tea and water. Make sure he washes up too.)

Piyali turned and lightly twisted Kittu’s ear before picking up the tray.

“Chalo bahar, shaitaan kahin ki.”

(Come outside now, you little devil.)

“Oww! Aa rahi hoon bhai!” Kittu winced dramatically as she followed behind her.

(Oww! I’m coming, alright!)

The two walked toward the courtyard together, one trying to act composed, the other struggling not to laugh..

By the time Piyali and Kittu stepped into the courtyard, Samar was already there.

He had just returned from dropping the relatives and looked visibly tired from the long day.

After greeting the elders, he finally lowered himself onto the sofa, stretching his shoulders slightly as if letting the exhaustion settle.

His baba and Piyali’s father were sitting nearby, deeply engaged in conversation.

The two mothers, meanwhile, were in one of the ground-floor rooms.

The room was almost overflowing with the wedding gifts that had been sent by relatives and well-wishers.

Boxes, wrapped packages, and trays were scattered everywhere.

The two women were opening them one by one, checking what had come and carefully arranging everything.

They both knew it would be difficult for Samar and Piyali to manage all of it alone later, so they had decided to help as much as they could while they were still here.

Just then Samar’s father looked toward him.

“Pohacha diye?”

(Did you drop them off?)

Samar gave a small nod.

“Ji, baba.”

(Yes, Baba.)

But even as he answered, his eyes had already moved elsewhere.

They rested quietly on Piyali.

Piyali stepped forward and placed the plate of hot samosas and the cups of tea on the table in front of them.

Kittu, sensing that the elders would soon need tea as well, quickly slipped away toward the room.

“Main maa aur aunty ji ko bula ke laati hoon.”

(I’ll call Maa and Aunty ji.)

Samar silently picked up the tea and a bit of the samosa as he leaned back slightly, eating slowly and quietly.

Piyali stood nearby, politely waiting in case anyone needed something else.

Once everyone had finished the tea and snacks, the small gathering slowly began to disperse again.

Samar stood up first.

“Main zara upar jaa raha hoon.”

(I’m going upstairs for a while.)

His father patted his back, still talking to Piyali’s father who nodded at him.

But before Samar turned to leave, his eyes briefly met Piyali’s.

For a moment, no one else noticed.

He gave the faintest tilt of his head toward the staircase.

A silent gesture for her to come.

Then he simply walked upstairs as if nothing had happened.

Piyali stood frozen for a second, understanding the gesture but feeling her heart beat faster at the thought of following him.

Just then the two mothers walked out of the room, still talking about the gifts.

Piyali’s maa noticed her standing there.

“Kya hua? Khadi kyun ho?”

(What happened? Why are you standing here?)

Before Piyali could say anything, Samar’s mother spoke gently.

“Ja beta… upar jaa ja. Jamai ji intezar kar raha hoga”

(Go dear… go upstairs. Son in law might be waiting.)

Piyali lowered her eyes at her words.

Her mother smiled knowingly.

“Haan haan, jao beta. Yahan ka kaam hum dekh lenge.”

(Yes, go dear. We’ll manage things here.)

There was a softness in their voices as Piyali gave a small nod as she glanced once at kittu who gave her thumbs up.

Then, adjusting the pallu over her head slightly, she quietly walked toward the staircase

And upstairs, in their room…

Samar was already waiting.

When Piyali entered their room, it was empty.

Her eyes immediately moved toward the bathroom when she heard the sound of running water. The door was slightly open.

Her head turned away quickly in surprise… but a moment later, curiosity made her glance back again.

Realising her own actions, she shook her head lightly, almost scolding herself.

Turning away, she walked toward the wardrobe. It was still not properly arranged, only a few sarees were kept there, the ones Samar had placed before the marriage.

She took out a soft cotton saree, wanting to change into something more comfortable for the night.

Her hands were still busy with the fabric when suddenly she felt his hands sneak around her waist.

Just beneath her chest.

Her breath caught.

His face rested near her chin as she instinctively tilted her head slightly, feeling the roughness of his light beard brushing against her cheek.

Her hands moved over his, holding them gently as he swayed them both slowly.

She could feel his bare chest against her bare back, warm and firm.

His fingers moved to the dori of her blouse that had been poking his chest.

“Ki koro?” she whispered softly.

(What are you doing?)

" Pyaar...apni biwi se. "He mumbled in response in his deep voice, snuggling his nose against the back of her neck before placing soft kisses there.

(Love...to my wife.)

With some effort, Piyali turned around to face him.

But Samar clearly had no intention of letting her go. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer.

His lips were already brushing against her cheeks, lightly biting them.

“Ah-” Piyali yelped softly.

She quickly held onto his shoulders and neck for support as he leaned them both slightly backward, still holding her firmly so she wouldn’t fall.

The wardrobe behind them was large, and as they stood between its doors, one of them slowly began to close.

Piyali took a sharp breath that slipped into a soft moan when she suddenly felt him bite gently above her chest.

“ummhh…” her breath hitched.

Her fingers instinctively tightened around his neck, pulling him closer.

His entire hand covered her back now, slowly caressing across it as if memorizing every inch, not leaving even a small space untouched.

"Hmm." A low hum vibrated from his lips as he pressed them against her skin again.

Her lips humming as he pressed slow kisses against her skin.

Piyali’s fingers tightened around his neck as a shiver ran through her. His warmth surrounded her completely, the dampness of his hair brushing lightly against her cheek.

“Samar ji…” she breathed softly, half protest, half surrender.

He only responded with a quiet hum, as if her name itself was enough for him.

His hand slid gently along her back, simply holding her there, as if after the chaos of the past few days he finally had the moment he wanted.

The wardrobe door slowly pushed inward behind them, falling on his back slightly.

Piyali noticed it from the corner of her eye and her cheeks flushed deeper.

“Wo Darwaja…” she whispered breathlessly.

[The door…]

But Samar didn’t move away.

Instead he leaned his forehead against hers for a moment, his breathing still warm against her face.

The teasing mischief that sometimes hid behind his calm eyes was visible now.

“Hone de” he murmured quietly.

[Let it be.]

Her heart thumped harder at the softness of his voice.

For a second she tried to step away but his arms tightened around her waist again, lifting her slightly off the ground before setting her back on one of wardrobe slab.

“He bhagwan” she gasped, half embarrassed, half laughing.

(Oh my god.)

He finally chuckled, the sound low in his chest.

“Din bhar sabke saamne hoti ho… aur ab bhaag rahi ho?”

[You stay so proper in front of everyone all day… and now you’re running away?]

Piyali hid her face against his shoulder immediately, mortified.

“Bhaag nahi rahi hoon…” she muttered softly.

[I’m not running.]

He tilted his head, amused.

“Accha?”

(Really?)

His fingers gently lifted her chin again.

For a moment neither of them spoke.

The room was quiet… only the distant sounds of the haveli and the faint dripping of water still coming from the bathroom.

Samar brushed a strand of hair away from her face, a few thoughts running through his brain.

“Thak gayi hogi” he said more softly now.

[You must be tired.]

The sudden change in his tone made her look up at him in surprise.

And before she could say anything, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and lips calmer this time, almost protective.

“Chalo” he murmured. “Kapde badal lo.”

[Come on. Change your clothes.]

Piyali blinked at him, still flushed.

Just moments ago he had her pinned between the wardrobe doors… and now he was speaking as if nothing had happened.

She narrowed her eyes slightly.

“A-aap…”

(Y-you..)

“M-main?” he replied innocently, mimicking her nervous shuttering.

(M-me?)

But the smile tugging at the corner of his lips completely gave him away.

Piyu found it a little odd, the sudden change in him.

Just a few minutes ago he had been getting so worked up… and suddenly he was calmly asking her to change and rest.

She nodded shyly as he helped her down from the wardrobe slab.

The moment her feet touched the floor, she quickly turned and walked toward the bathroom. But after taking two steps, she suddenly stopped, biting her lip.

She had forgotten to take her saree.

Slowly, she turned her head toward the still-open wardrobe.

Samar was still standing there.

But she couldn’t see him fully, only his hands.

And those hands were holding her saree… along with her blouse and petticoat.

Her cheeks instantly heated up.

Without saying a word, she hurried back, snatched the clothes from his hands, and rushed toward the bathroom.

The soft sound of her payal echoed as she ran.

Samar, still hidden behind the wardrobe door, chuckled quietly to himself as he heard it.

In his other hand, however, he was still holding something.

Her innerwear.

She had kept it with the rest of the clothes earlier, but in the hurry he hadn’t handed it to her.

He looked at it for a few seconds, thinking.

Anyway… it wasn’t good to wear those while sleeping at night, right?

Even boys didn’t.

That made sense to Samar.

With that simple logic settling comfortably in his mind, he placed it back inside the wardrobe.

After that, he changed into a pair of track pants and a vest just in case she felt uncomfortable seeing him otherwise.

Then he walked toward the bed and lay down, his hands resting behind his head.

He stared quietly at the ceiling.

A small, satisfied smile slowly spread across his lips.

When Piyali came back from the bathroom, Samar’s eyes were closed.

He looked far too relaxed to not be sleeping.

She adjusted the pallu of her saree on her shoulders before slowly walking toward the bed.

Climbing onto it carefully, she sat down and pulled her legs up beside her.

Her eyes fell on him.

He was lying right in the middle of the bed… almost like a child who had claimed the entire space.

A small smile appeared on her lips.

She softly giggled.

Leaning a little forward and gently poked his nose.

But the moment she did, his eyes suddenly opened.

Piyali immediately flinched back a little, her eyes widening in surprise. She looked at him with confusion, biting her lip in embarrassment.

Being caught like that made her even shyer.

She had been too shy these days.

Well… her childhood crush was her husband now.

Slowly, she pulled her hand back and turned, about to climb down from the bed.

But before she could move, his hand slipped around her waist.

In one quick pull, he dragged her back onto the bed.

Piyali whined softly at his act, looking down at him.

He was still lying there, his face now right beside her waist, lazily supporting his head on one hand as he looked up at her.

His eyes were calm… but very aware.

“Kya hua?” she asked innocently, feeling his gaze on her.

(What happened?)

Her fingers absentmindedly played with the gold chain around her neck.

The very same chain she had almost forcefully made him wear around her neck after he had given it to her.

Or rather… blackmailed him sweetly into it until he gave up.

“Jab dekho bhaag Rahi ho."

(Why are you always running away.)

Piyali grinned at his words.

For the first time in many days, the same comfort between them was slowly returning.

Her eyes wandered down unconsciously.

His arm was right beside her.

Strong.

Her gaze lingered there for a second before her hand slowly crept forward.

Without thinking much, she squeezed the firm muscle of his bicep curiously.

Samar simply continued watching her quietly as her fingers squeezed his bicep. His other hand casually resting against her waist, carrising itm

For a moment he didn’t say anything.

Piyali was too busy examining it curiously, pressing the muscle once again as if confirming something in her mind.

Then suddenly his voice came.

“Did you like it?"

Her eyes slowly lifted to meet his… and immediately she realized he had been watching her the entire time.

Her hand quickly withdrew as if she had touched something forbidden.

“Na… na…” she stammered softly, looking away.

(No..no...)

Samar’s lips curved into a slow smile.

“Acha...toh kya injection lagane ke liye naas dhudh Rahi thi?” he asked lazily.

(Oh… so were you searching for a vein to give the injection?)

(Then why were you checking it?)

Piyali bit her lip, clearly caught.

“Bas… aise hi” she murmured.

(Just like that.)

He raised an eyebrow.

Before she could react, his hand suddenly moved again.

This time he pulled her down beside him on the bed.

Piyali let out a small startled sound as she landed next to him, half lying on her side.

“Samar!" She protested softly.

But he simply turned on his side too, facing her now.

For a moment neither of them spoke.

The room had gone quiet again.

His fingers slowly reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Bachpan mein bhi aise hi thi.” he murmured.

(You used to be like this even in childhood.)

Piyali blinked.

“Kaisi” she asked softly.

“how?”

He chuckled lightly.

“Jab bhi main kheton se ya kaam se wapas aata tha… tum chup chup ke dekhti rehti thi.”

(Whenever I returned from the fields or work… you used to secretly stare at me.)

Her eyes widened.

“Jhoot bolte ho” she whispered immediately.

(You lie!)

But the pink spreading across her cheeks betrayed her.

Samar leaned a little closer, clearly enjoying her reaction.

“haan kya?” he murmured.

“Phir jab main paas aata tha… toh bhaag jaati thi.”

(Oh really? And whenever I came closer… you used to run away.)

Piyali hid her face in the edge of her pallu in embarrassment.

“I did not…” she muttered softly.

Samar laughed under his breath.

“Ab toh nahi bhagogi na?)

(Now you won’t run away, right?)

Piyali slowly lowered her pallu and looked at him again.

Her voice came out small but honest.

“Ab kahan jaaungi…”

(Where would I go now…)

The words hung softly in the quiet room.

Samar’s teasing expression softened immediately.

“Janta hoon..Ye sara sharmana kuch dino main khatam hojaega.” he murmured to himself quietly, chuckling.

(I know… all this shyness will fade away in a few days.)

Outside, the haveli had already grown silent.

And for the first time after the long, exhausting days of rituals and guests…

The two of them finally had a moment that belonged only to them.

“Kitne chipku ho gaye hain aap,” she said suddenly, giggling in his arms.

(You have became so clingy.)

Samar lifted himself slightly, now hovering over her. His face dipped into the curve of her neck.

“Abhi chipka hi kahan hoon, darling” he murmured.

(I’m not even really clinging to you yet, darling.)

Piyali’s entire face turned red at his words. Her hands slowly rested on his back and shoulders as she hid her face in his neck. "Umm hmm"

“Ab tumhara yeh umm-hmm nahi chalega, Piu,” Samar whispered against her ear.

(Now your umm-hmm won't work anymore piu.)

His hands slid down from the sides of her waist to her hips, his palms gripping the soft flesh there.

Piyali wasn’t the kind with a sharply snatched waist. Her body was soft and full thick thighs, a generous chest and slight rolls at her waist that made her all the more real, all the more tempting… enough to drive a sane man insane.

His hands wandered along her legs as he slowly pushed her saree up with them till her thighs.

She threw her head back, already a moaning, whimpering mess at the slightest touch of his hands.

A sharp cry escaped her when she suddenly felt him bite into the soft skin of her stomach.

Samar quickly muffled the sound by placing his palm over her mouth.

Piyali looked down to see him there, sucking and teasing the skin of her stomach, leaving warm, lingering sensations behind.

His hands came back to hold her waist, keeping her from moving too much. She was thrashing slightly out of sensitivity, yet her muffled moans of pleasure filled the room.

After a moment, he pulled away just enough to lift himself up to her face.

Finally, he captured her lips.

The kiss was deep and hungry. His palm cupped her cheek, gently squeezing as it forced her mouth open, his tongue slipping inside.

He tasted her slowly, deliberately, drawing soft sounds from her throat.

Piyali’s eyes were tightly shut, completely lost in the moment, feeling him ruin her composure while at the same time drowning her in a world she had never known before.

His hand moved to her neck, holding her in place as the kiss deepened.

She could feel it, his long years of restraint slowly slipping away.

And whenever he tried to pull back, trying to give her a moment to breathe…

she would pull him right back again, her lips parting, inviting him in once more.