

Janaat Viraj Singh POV:
I woke up, and the first thing I remembered was the hug. The warmth from the hug!! And his eyes!
His eyes were so concerned last night. And the most embarrassing thing was I asked for a hug…not just a hug, but a bone-squeezing hug.
But noo, naa. It was not the end. I sat on his lap. How can I? I made the rule and broke it already.
He also hugged me as if he were hugging his world. Then the rest of the work my cheetos did.
Yes, my cheetos!! Not his hug.
I didn’t see that nightmare again.
Last night, I didn’t force myself to sleep; it feels like sleep comes to me and hugs me, so I can relive those scary moments in my nightmare.
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Nightmare
The night wrapped around the cab like a thick velvet curtain. It was almost ten, and the world outside carried the stillness of a late hour when even the stars seemed to hold their breath. Mumma and I are in the cab. The car engine hums softly in the darkness. Trees are passing. Chandigarh is full of trees. We were going to pick up a cake from the bakery because it’s Mumma and Dad’s anniversary.
Then the cat appeared, a sudden splash of black against the pale night. “MUMMA, I saw a cat, a black cat. She just cut our path.” She looked at the window first, then me; her expression changed.
“It’s not a good sign… Driver, turn the car, please. We will go back to our home,” she said in panic.
“Offhoo mumma, it’s superstition.”
The cab slowed, and the driver’s eyes met the mirror with a question. “But mam…” He was never able to complete that sentence.
The world seems to be paused in darkness. Out of nowhere, I saw a massive truck. The world narrowed to a single moment. His flashlight cut through all the darkness of the road. The driver fought the steering wheel, and the road seemed to tilt.
That truck hit our car. The impact came with a force that seemed to steal the breath from the night itself. Everything changed in an instant, and time slid into a lull, a soft, clinical pause as if the world was pausing or maybe slowing down.
I felt like spinning, and I blinked to remove the haze. “Mumma,” I called her. But she was above me, covering me with her body.
She shielded me with her body, her arms wrapping around me. Pain didn’t find me in that instant; it was a distant rumor, just the dizziness. I blinked, once, twice, and in those revolutionized blinks, I saw Mumma’s smile.
My mumma hovered over me, protecting me. Indeed, she did; she saved me from any damage. She shielded me with her own body.
That time, my head was pounding, I was blinking lazily, then I felt her body weight on me, and I felt her warmth begin to fade into the night. Her body goes numb over mine.
Nightmare ended.
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The nightmare still gives me the chills, and it was not just the nightmare, but the moment I live like a nightmare.
It comes back again and again, time to time, reminding me.
That cat triggered me. And I was there again.
The next thought was of him. The moment I felt his body near me last night, my pounding heart started relaxing in his arms. I don’t know how long we hugged.
I don’t want to tell him about the nightmare, so I asked another question that was bothering me personally—my dressing.
But to my surprise, he said something that erased my doubts. Before I started thinking about him, I shook my head and pushed the comforter away, and the air hit me, fresh but cool.
Then I noticed I was tucked in with many pillows around me. I was wearing a white night suit with full sleeves and trousers. This nightsuit has an inbuilt cup, so no pikaboo moment.

(her night suit)
Then I looked around, “Wow,” I did not notice the room before. This room is big, bigger than my house. Then I also noticed the bed, it was bigger than king size. If we join two queen-size beds, then this bed will be built. He has a body is so giant that a normal-sized bed is not suitable for a man like him.
You know the Giaan from the Doremon.
Noo, Naa!! He is not fatty like Giaan; it’s just that he is wide like him. His body is toned, with muscles.
Maybe he is hiding eight abs under the clothes. One day, I’ll remove his shirt and see how many abs he has.
Then I noticed the room lights. There are so many lights. It’s filled with LED accent lighting along the chandelier. One side of the wall has a full window.
Standing from my bed, my feet meet the cold floor. I opened the curtain, but they didn’t move. Then I find out they have a remote controller. After opening the bedside drawer, I found the remote. I opened and closed them again and again till my bladder felt the pressure.
Then I move towards the washroom. The bathroom has a creamy beige and golden palette. So many ceiling lights and dual vanities for symmetry. Large mirrors and a glass shower enclosure enhance the space. All big spaces keep for themselves. “Let’s do business first, then I can roam around.”
Gosh, the relief you got after emptying your bladder is insane.

Wait, where is the dressing room? I’m sure it must be here. Then I saw stairs, and I climbed 13 steps. I’m loving this two-in-one room. This creates a “two-in-one” feeling, one space for sleeping, another for lounging or dressing.
Interesting and unique, but Giant for sure.
First, I saw the balcony. Not just the balcony, it’s the full roof. Here is a big sofa, and also a fireplace, as we saw in the movies. If a gathering were to unfold here, fifteen people would feel perfectly accommodated.
“He can add a small swing chair here, but no,” I whispered to the open space. I loved swing, it made me feel like the old days when our family had four people.
If we add a swing here, it will be the perfect space where I can talk to my moonie.
Then I noticed the plant that was here was fake. But on bhabhi’s floor, they are real, then why fake for here?
Does he know about my allergy?
Then there was a door, which must be a washroom that I didn’t bother to open.

Then here we are in the dressing area. A comfortable, well-lit space with mirrors and plenty of drawers. Does a man need this much space to store his clothes? But he definitely does because he is so giant, his clothes are also giant, which need space to store. I giggled at this silly thought.
Then, inside here is a vanity area. A stylish table or counter with a large mirror where you can apply makeup or style your hair. It has seating, good lighting, and lots of small compartments or drawers for cosmetics and tools. This is my dream space to have a vanity. If I shoot my content here, my face will look more glowing, I’m sure, no need to use any filter.
Then it clicked, the color everywhere was the same white and gold. Maybe he likes gold.
“Golddigger kahi kaa.”
I was going back downstairs when a sound reached my ears.
There was a door beside the dressing room area. I pushed the door like I was entering a restricted area, and the view stole my breath. Pool, a huge pool.
“POOOLLLL,” I screamed. My mouth opened like a pool, big and wide as much as I could. I always wanted a pool in my house.
It has an open roof with a transparent ceiling that can be opened as per your wish. A sitting area with a sofa, a large TV, and a wall art piece. All people keep a TV in their bedroom, but he kept it here.
In real life, it looks so hot. I’ll definitely swim here. Head, keep that in mind. The space is perfect for a social media shoot.
This screams MONEY.

Leaving all the giant things there, I came to my room and, with a quick shower. Yes, shower today, no bathtub, otherwise I’ll lose track of time. I got ready for the day. Today I styled my curls with a middle-parted, front two thin braids. This braid inspiration I got from Bhabhi, and I styled it with a white dress with lace detailing.
Breakfast also went smoothly, with me having my sandwiches and Bhabhi having her aloo parantha. But sandwiches were tastier than usual; maybe they had some different filling, but they were tasty. Bhabhi is enjoying aloo parantha beside me.
Today, Dadu was not present at the dining table, but it was good. I don’t like him.
He is rude and also scolds.
For a day, the plan was to take two of my classes, then go with Viraj to buy a gift for Bhabhi. I was still thinking what I should gift her?
Viraj is giving me a lift to college, and I was scrolling on my phone, finding a perfect gift for her. I was a little embarrassed by the way I asked for a hug, so I didn’t look at him.
The whole ride, my eyes were glued to the screen only, but I took a few glances at him. He is wearing whole black. Nothing new, he wears maximum black clothes. His shirt sleeves were rolled so I could see the veins on his forearm.
I almost slipped again and started staring at him, but my head reminded me of the "no looking, naa drooling rule.

He was driving, and I opened my Instagram and saw my story hit 10K. Hope this helps Lily get a few clients. If that happens, maybe she’ll become a strong, independent woman like me.
I told Viraj to drop me off a little way from the college gates. I don’t want to troll or bully anyone with careless stories or mean-spirited jokes. You never know what people assume when they see a student with the principal.
Class went smoothly today, too, mostly because our usual mam was absent. Yeah, the same who taunt me about my dress. I learned the professor's name: Naina Arora. Apparently, she’s the youngest professor here. But one thing is clear, she doesn’t like me at all.
As Viraj said, it’s not a compulsion that everyone likes us, so I take that.
Today, Kira talked a bit more than yesterday. I think she’ll open up more with time, and we end up exchanging numbers. Every introvert needs an extrovert. So for her, I’ll be her extroverted person.
Progress.
Only two exercises and I was free because it’s Saturday.
Now I’m sitting here in the parking lot, waiting for Viraj, scrolling through my feed to kill the time. I keep checking for one message that never seems to come, the father-son duo who promised to stay in touch.
I keep hoping they didn’t abandon me; my cute Dad and Chiku can’t do this with me.
I started looking at a few online options for Bhabhi as I finalized what I have to buy, and now I am exploring options.
I reminded myself to take a swimsuit for myself. Now that I see the pool, I have to use it.
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Heer Veer Singh POV
Dr. Veer is playing with Bebo; we have already vaccinated her, so I don’t get any injections because of her. “Aaj aapne hospital nhi jana kya Dr. Veer?” I asked.
(Dr. Veer, are you not going to the hospital today?)
He dropped Bebo on the floor, and she went outside towards the open roof. He extended his hand toward me, and I mirrored the gesture, fingers brushing. He pulled me, and I settled in his lap. Then he kissed me on my lips. “Humara kiss.” And I giggled, he is a fan of kisses.
“Aaj hum shopping karne jayege. Acha bataiye kya pehnna chahti hai aap humari reception par?”
(Today we will go shopping. Tell me, what do you want to wear to our reception?)
I smiled because I had already decided what I would wear. “Hum lehanga lege, humne kabhi bhi wo nhi pehna hai.” I will only buy a blue lehenga.
(I will buy a lehenga, I never wear that.)
His gaze softened, listening to the excitement in my voice. “Hmm. Chaliye tyaar ho jaiye.” He stood and extended a hand to help me rise.
(Hmm. Let’s go get ready.)
I stepped into the dressing room, but I couldn’t decide what I should wear. So I called him, and within a minute, he appeared at the doorway. He chose a suit for me. “Aaap kya pehnoge?” I asked.
(What would you wear?)
He opened his side of the cabinet with a practiced ease, “Jo aap kahe wahi. Humne aapke like suit choose kiya hai aur aap humare liye kar dijeye.”
(Whatever you say. I have chosen a suit for you, and you go ahead and do it for me.)
He stood back, and I found a perfectly matching shirt with my suit. “Ye wali…” I giggled at the thought that we would match. He looked at me with narrowed eyes and returned a small smile. Then he pulled the beige pants out and went inside the washroom.
He is so good, always listens to me, and never refuses me.
I also got ready and, like always, I was struggling with my long hair. He looked at me and helped me with my braid. Again, he tied a loose braid, and I didn’t correct him.
We came outside where his car was parked. “Dr. Veer es car ka naam kya hai?” I asked him when he opened the car door for me.
(Dr. Veer, what is the name of this car?)
“It is a Mercedes G wagon. Aapko achi nhi lagti toh hum badal lege.” He said talking place in the driving seat.
(If you don’t like then we will change it.)
I shook my head, “nhi, nhi yahi car achi hai.”
(No, no, this car is good.)
Then I tried to put a seatbelt around me, but failed. Dr.Veer leaned and took the belt from my hand, and I stared at him. I don’t know when he came this close to me, but something happened. I never felt that with my Nina.
His cheek was so close to me, and without thinking, I kissed it. He looked at me, and with a smile, he shook his head.
Why is he laughing? Did I do something wrong? But he also likes kisses.
“My Heriye, sometimes you cause me trouble, and you didn’t realise that,” he said with a soft smile on his lips.
How do I cause trouble?
“Kase?” I asked, and he kissed my lips. “Nothing, Aur kya kya legi aap aaj, first is Lehenga and...?”
(What things do you want to buy today?)
Then I saw his shirt's upper button was loose. I tied them and gave him a hard glare. Did he do that purposely, or were they loose that they opened on their own?
I smiled, “Ek blue lehenga, matching ki chudiya leni hai. Aap bhi blue color pehnege.” I leaned near his face, “Btayiye aap bhi humare sath blue suit match karege na?”
(I need to get a blue lehenga and matching bangles. You will also wear blue.)
(Tell me, will you also match with me?)
“Jasa aap kahe, Hum wahi karege.” See how good my husband is.
(As you say, I’ll only do that.)
He started the car, and after some time we arrived at the shop. The shop was empty. I don’t like new people around me because I've never been in a crowded space. I’m always with Nina.
We used to shop for clothes at a shop that was near our home. That aunty has lots of blue clothes, and Nina used to stitch them for me.
I saw one lehenga, and I chose that one only. I didn’t even see any other options because I liked that.
Then we selected a matching outfit for him. “Dr. Veer baby ko bulaiye na, Wo bhi humare sath matching karegi,” I said, resting my hand on my hip.
He talked with VJ over the phone. “They are coming, till then we will buy bangles for you.” I nodded, and we moved towards the bangle shop.
Here were three people, so I held Dr. Veer's hand. He also held my hand and said, “Hum yahi hai, lijiye jo lena hai.”
(I’m right here, take whatever you want.)

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Viraj Janaat Singh POV:
In the morning, she woke up earlier than usual. I didn’t get to see her sleeping morning face. She looks 2x cute with that pout in the morning.
Breakfast also went peacefully because Bhabhi and Heaven got their food. It was calm because the old man ate in his room, as we decided that either our wives would eat at the breakfast table or him. We both don’t trust that man touge, so for the safer side, we choose the distance.
Today she is going with me to college, and the whole ride, she used her phone. She is wearing a white dress with those cute two braids that come on her cheeks. Thank god that my words work on her, she is being herself. I don’t want her to change herself because of some words.
If something like that happened again, then “I’ll trouble the trouble who try to trouble my heaven with words.”
Then she asked me to stop the car far from college. Can you believe she doesn’t even want to be seen with me?
I was just about to brew a cup of emergency coffee when someone sent me a video that says, “A student is doing something with your car.”
I opened the video and told them no worries. She was my best student, my Heaven, my precious wife.
But what is she doing in the parking lot?
She is lying on the floor under the trunk of my car and lounging like a bored cat, right beneath the trunk of my car.
Thank God that they complained about her to me; otherwise, I wouldn’t have found her entire day.
I sprinted to the car and whispered, “Hello there.” She was sitting under the truck's shadow, hiding herself, not knowing from what or whom.
She looked up at me with a smile like a thief caught red-handed. “Get in the car.”
She hopped into the car like a ninja who forgot how to ninja. Feet first onto the floor, then a curl on the car floor.
She was not even sitting in the seat. Nope, she's chilling on the floor of the car. The floor.
“Drive fast,” she urged, sitting on the car floor.
“First, sit properly; usually, people sit on the car seat, not on the car floor.” I was totally teasing her. Her eyes narrowed, and I swear, the way she glared made my lips curve in a cocky smile.
“Don’t want to be caught with my principal,” she hisses back, all intense. I think she already forgot that the principal is her husband.
I just shook my head, trying to process her logic, “Principal is your husband, remember?”
“Yeah, surprise husband,” she snaps back, and honestly, that stung a little. Just start driving.
I sighed, because what else could I do? I turned the key, and the engine started to run on the road.
Surprise husband?
As the college disappeared from our view, she settled in her seat. She is struggling a bit to see her face in the mirror because of her height. She tilted her head again, but failed.
I pulled the mirror down, as I had already modified it according to her height. She gave me a hard look, saying, “Why didn’t you do that earlier?”
She got her perfect angle and started applying red lip gloss. Once, twice. Two coats of that gloss made her lips look bigger and juicier.
I forward my phone after dialing Dad’s number, “Dad is on call.” I don’t know why her phone is out of reach.
After throwing that lip gloss on the car seat, she snached yes literally snatched the phone from my hand.
“Dad, I thought you had abandoned me and decided to settle there with your precious son.” I can hear Dad's laughter from the other side. “What, twenty more days? How can you do this with me? You don’t love me anymore? I didn’t bring that many clothes, and also I can’t live without my precious heels.”
I hear each word with focus, and I still managed to drive as well. She ended the call and looked to my side, before she caught me staring, I was already turned facing front. “I have to live for more than twenty days in your house. Both will come next month. There was some legal work pending because mumma was a russian citizen.” I already knew that, Dad told me I have a time of the month to convince her to give this relationship a chance.
I hummed, “Do you have my number?” I asked because she doesn’t have my number. So I called her from my phone, “Save that now, you might need it.” Her finger stopped where the name section should be filled.
She looked at me, then hid her phone, like I would see her as some kind of dirty secret. I don’t know what name she will save my number under. After adding and hiding my name from her phone, she looked at me and giggled.
I hope it’s not a surprise husband.
I stopped the car in front of the shop, and she looked at me. “Bhai-Bhabhi is here, Bhabhi wants her best friend here.”
We both got out of the car, and both had already decided on our reception look. Bhabhi wants her to wear a blue lehenga. She was resisting, but no one can deny my Bhabhi. She holds her lehenga beside her face, “It’s so long for me.” She is tiny; that whole lehenga length is the same as her length.
“No worry, they will alter, and tomorrow morning I’ll pick this up personally,” I said, and Bhai looked at me from head to toe like I was some alien. He is more whipped than I and here judging me.
Then, some random guy shows up to measure her size, but I stopped him and told call the lady staff. If someone is going to measure her size, I want it to be with a respectful tape.
Am I being possessive? Definitely.
My possessiveness isn’t loud or dramatic; it’s quiet. I’m not controlling, I’m curating: I want to ensure she’s safe, respected, and treated with the same courtesy.
She grabbed the moment with that quick, practiced smile and gave me side eye. Meanwhile, Bhai and Bhabi peel away for a facial appointment. And the man who is judging me now will sit in the parlour for hours.
Then, finally, we entered the mall. First stop was the clothing section. She stood by the nightdress racks and chose all blue night dresses. It clicked me after a moment: she was gathering everything for Bhabhi.
“Come hold them,” she snapped, her arms were filled with clothes.
I took a lot of clothes from her, and she sighed, “I hope Bhabhi likes them.”
She paused and huffed, keeping both her hands on her waist as if she were doing labour work, “They’re all in blue with different shades and patterns. She should love them.”
“She will,” I said, stepping closer as we were about to approach the checkout. “Choose a few for yourself, now that you’re living with me for more days, you need more clothes,” I said.
She paused, slightly, then gave a small nod and moved towards the different section. She chose a few dresses and a comfy night co-ord set.
The bill came, and she reached for it with a quick motion, but I paid the bill, paying no mind to her opinion that she was a strong, independent woman. She is definitely an independent but strong woman who doesn’t go with the flow. She is still a teenager, and to become strong, she has to eat healthy food.
Then she saw the shop name Nykaa and turned back to look at me. I watched her in silence; she literally ran towards that store.
“What’s so special about her feet turning into wings?”
After entering, I realised it was a cosmetic store. She was gone, lost in those products. These are my wife’s current profession, and I don’t know about them, but I’ll work on them.
The first basket was filled in no time. Then comes the lip products, she adds a few lip balms and gloss.
Now the final turn was lipsticks. She was struggling to apply them, so I offered my own hand as a palette so she could draw on me. She swiped, dabbed, and debated textures: liquid, satin, matte, gloss.
I learned more than enough about lip shades in ten minutes. Yes, there was variety—liquids that glided like silk, sticks that looked like they were carved from candy, and something that felt suspiciously like a potion labeled “Kiss Proof, smug proof, and also 16 hour long-lasting.”
She kept glancing up at me with that sly smirk when a color finally clicked. I caught her smirk. These little lipstick moments mattered more than they should.
“Done,” she declared, and I stepped forward to pay. My not-so-strong independent girl was arguing with me again, but I paid it no mind.
“Shall we eat?” I asked, and looked at her. I know she is hungry.
We found a table in the mall and settled into our seats. I chose this place on purpose; they don’t serve junk food. She checked the menu upside down, left to right, but she didn’t find any junk. I was also sitting there with a rested face, so she doesn’t doubt me.
So we ordered a burrito bowl for me, soup with cold coffee for her. Who eats hot and cold in the same scene? She does.
The waiter who placed our food on the table looked at the back of her hand, where her lipstick trial marks were still resting.
I didn’t mind one bit. They’re not just marks; they’re little marks from her.
She claimed my collar first, and now my hand. I wonder what's next.
She took the first spoonful of soup and let out a soft “aaaa.” She hissed, and the spoon from her hand fell. Gosh, who drinks hot soup without f blowing?
She stuck out her tongue, and I cupped her cheek with my hand, guiding her closer as I leaned in to blow warm breath across her tongue.
The warmth made her eyes flutter, and for a moment, my gaze snagged on her lips, their shape.
I want. To taste. Those lips. So badly.
Then I noticed how close we were. So I pulled my face back and picked that cold coffee, and nudged the straw toward her parted lips. She drew in a long sip, almost half of the glass she drank in one go.
The next was a spoonful of burrito that found its way to her mouth, “mmmmmmm.”
One by one, I fed her and myself that burrito, with the same spoon, sharing bites and breaths in a rhythm.
If not her lips, then her used spoon, I tasted her.
She kept scrolling on her phone mindlessly. I watched her lips move as she murmured something under her breath. But my eyes are fixed on her lips unknowingly.
When the last bite disappeared, my hand stopped. She lifted her gaze from the glow of her screen, and I asked softly, “Want more?” She answered with a smile, then shook her head.
I wipe her mouth with the napkin because she is still wandering with that phone. What is she trying to find in that non-living thing? She should look at me.
“It’s time to buy a gift,” she said, and her voice had that familiar excitement. “Then those night suits,” I asked.
“That was not a gift. Bhabhi asked for them.” She paused and stood from her seat, “I’ll go and bring her a gift.”
I stood too, reached out and caught her hand, my body aligning with hers, and then she spoke the words “You… wait for me here.”
“Why? I’ll go with you.”
“NO, you are going to wait here for me. That’s final,” she said and yanked her hand away from mine. I don’t like it when she pulls her hands away from mine.
Then she vanished.
Forty-eight minutes or perhaps a little more, she comes back, carrying five shopping bags that were Pink and white, stamped with Victoria’s Secret. “I got a gift from my side. Let’s go now, we will buy a gift from your side.” Her smile crossed her mouth in a slow, wicked arc.
We exited the mall and settled her bags in the car truck. “I think we should buy a necklace for Bhabhi,” I said, sitting in the driving seat beside her.
“No, we will buy bangles for her; she can wear them daily, and she likes bangles a lot,” she said, and she has a point. I still remember how she cried on the first night over the box of bangles.
I started driving again to the jeweller's shop, and all the time, she had a wicked smile glued to her face.
I wonder what non-living thing she got now?
First was Cheetos.
Then those lip products, and now the five bags with pink and white stripes.
The worst part? It's just stuff, not even living stuff, so I can erase their existence, but some non-living things who is coughing up all her attention.
And I don’t know why I am getting jealous of all non-living things, but I am. Maybe I should become a non-living thing too.
To be continued…
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