Chapter Text
Hazed and stupefied. Her eyes fight the unseen heaviness falling on her. Her hands instinctively seek the familiar tepidity beside her. Without opening her eyes, she frowns not in concern, but in agitation for not finding her go-to comfort embrace that has been her partner through such nights when dizziness overcomes her, and the acquainted mint and lemon cocoon builds a protective shield around her. Her hands continue the search, expecting him to have reached the edge of the bed, something that happened occasionally when she decided to take over the bed.
Dismayed and nettled. She stares at the dark ceiling above her, reminding herself to ask her husband why it had to be a grim shade of grey. The porpoise covering does not help either, and the drumming of her head intensifies. She wonders if it's the searing pain or the frigidity she felt on the right side of the bed that awakened her to her senses fully.
Dazed and enamoured. Her feet drag her to her least favourite place in this house, not that she has any particular fascination for any other spot in this house except the room she shares with her husband but since that night followed by several dark hours when nothing but crickets and owls mark their presence and creaking of the doors in far end corner of the house could be heard, this kitchen does become her favorite place, still second to the comfort of her bedroom. Before her feet grace the threshold of the kitchen, it’s the familiar aroma that reaches her. She momentarily stops in her tracks with a smile, allowing the whiff to take over the thumping in her head. She does not know if he notices or not, she asked him once and he said he had no idea but she refused to believe him and didn’t nag him further. In her honest opinion, he always knows when she’s around, just like her nervous system can tell he isn’t lying beside her and drags her to him in middle of the night. He refuses to turn or stop in his track while stirring the burning brown liquid with utmost attention. She ignores the way a single strand rests on his temple and to her sheer satisfaction, despite being an obstinate hindrance in his vision, he does not bother with pushing it away.
Content and Knackered. She takes languid steps towards him. The fabric of his coral-colored tee stretched thin over his back highlighting the ridges of his back. She grimaces but could not stress further over the reason as the cluster of her head reminds her to fix her priorities. She does what she should have done when she came home two hours ago and dropped herself on the bed after a 36-hour continuous shift at the hospital. Better late than never. She places her head on his taut back and closes her eyes- the mint and lemon mixed with sandalwood reaches her nerves faster that she could have anticipated. She knows he said something but in that moment, she was far away from bothering. She knows a playful smile is dancing on her husband’s lips but she has no intention of calling him out on that. If he’s being smug about her missing him in these hours- let him be. Gone are those days when she refused to acknowledge it. They have surpassed that stage.
“Itni raat ko coffee pee rahay ho?” She hears her own voice and squirms at the horrible hoarseness reaching her ears. She also knows the answer to the question that he won’t utter but she loves it. She knows he isn’t here by chance. She knows the coffee on the stove isn’t for him either. She knows since that night, without any formal conversation, it’s a thing between them; he always makes coffee for her, always. She knows her husband and the thought how well she knows him warms her heart and a rush of giddiness flushes through her, the kind Ushna mentions when she reads her novels, the kind she read about when she found her husband’s old novels he used to read and gagged at the disillusionment. Yet, here she was, asking him what she knew because the assurance that came from him filled her with a profound sense of unnamed relief. It’s their thing, she loves the assurance of finding him in this cavernous space, brewing coffee as if it’s the most important task in the whole world. She knows he’d never say he was here for her, but his eyes, his beautiful, soft eyes, speak volumes when they land on her, and she doesn’t know about him, but when they meet hers, she always feels the raging storms in her heart turning into a calming breeze.
“Bass aese h” He utters with a hint of nonchalance, and she wraps her arms around his waist. Her arms perfectly fit around his frame and in that instant, he pulls her in further, inciting a chuckle from her end. Her head doesn’t stop pricking, but the hammering seemingly subsides, and something tells her she’s exactly where she needs to be. Instead of resting her head on that pillow, staring at empty ceilings, she rests her cheek on the vastness of his back and rubs it gently. She keeps her eyes closed. He does move, but not enough to disturb the peaceful moment she’s having while standing there, though her legs scream in pain. She lets out a gratifying groan as his fingers draw patterns on her entwined hands at his front, and she finds herself further putting her weight on him.
“Coffee thandi hojaegi tumhari.” His voice, calm and soothing, reaches her ears, and she recalls the attendant of a patient who yelled at the hospital staff. She sighs, disgruntled and hops on the island. Salman places the hot mug in her hands and instantly covers her neck with the same warm hand. The warmth sends a tingling sensation down her spine and releases the brewing tension in her muscles. As she takes the first sip of the coffee, she takes a mental note, as she has numerous times, nobody makes better coffee than her husband, and even if they do, she is least bothered to try that.
“I know.” He utters with a soft chuckle, and she notices the glint gliding in his eyes. She wonders if she said that out loud.
“No you didn’t. Lekin tumharay chehray ka expression sab bta deta hai.” He answers her query without a hint of mock of sarcasm but sheer adulation. He finds his place between her feet, and his hand continues with their expert movement on her neck.
“I’d hate it if you make this coffee for anybody else.” She scrunches her nose, and he’s quick to put a kiss right there.
“Meri aesi majaal? Wese bh yeh service sirf aur sirf Dr Sania kay liye hai.” He admits wholeheartedly, but it’s the way he says “Dr” without any malice, without any resentment, that comforts her heart once again. She takes another sip of the coffee while he nips the spot behind her earlobe and traces a path down her collarbone. Her hand rests on his pec to hinder his actions, but in vain.
Breathless and Satiated. She does not know if it's the caffeine or his touch or the way his beard grazes her skin or the way his lips brush against hers, but by the time she finishes her coffee, her shoulders are relaxed. Her head feels lighter, the heaviness warded off her eyes, and she feels less nettled than before.
“Kesa din guzra aj tumhara?” She asks genuinely while he pushes her strands behind her ear even though it wasn’t needed.
“Meri lakh koshishion ke bawajood pohanch gai naa tum tk meri aur baba ki jhagday wali khabar. Akhir kon btata hai tumhe ye sab?” She only smiles in response.
“Bas hain kuch mere jasoos.” She shrugs before staring back right at him and notices the lurking shadows underneath his eyes, darker than before. Unlike before, a couple of hair strands rest on his forehead, and his mop has turned messier than before thanks to his recent activity a few minutes ago. The lingering exhaustion in his orbs isn’t a secret to her, and so are those sleepless nights that he dismisses on the pretext, “tum kal raat ghar nahi ai naa, isi liye tumhari yaad mein jaga raha.” She pushes his hair back lovingly. Knowingly, doesn’t pester him further and allows her hand to caress his cheek. This time it’s his turn to close his eyes and savour the moment. She notices his gulp.
“Sania…..Dil ka toofan tham gya hai.” He whispers, and she bursts into giggles. This isn't the first time he says it to her, and she prays it isn't the last time either. He buries his head in the comfort of her neck, making her giggle with her sweet whispers.
“Salman! No.” She pushes him away.
“Dont worry, Mina knows better than to lurk around at this time of the night after last time. Aur fazlu ne toh wese h taubah kr li hai kamray se bh bahar nikalne ki.” Her giggles muffle as he tightens his hold around her, and she rests her chin on his shoulder.
“Tum iss ghar se nikalay jao ge kisi din.”
“Yehi to irada hai.” And what better way than being punished for making out with my wife? Win-win situation.” He winks at her shamelessly, and she pushes him away.
“Behave.”
“Miss Kill Joy.” He makes a face and she squints her eyes at him as if it’d do something. He might want this to be a reason for them to be kicked out of this house by his father, she surely does not. Therefore, she decides enough of the show for the kitchen walls and drags him to their bedroom.