The room glowed in the softness of a single lamp. Rain whispered outside, but inside, time stilled.
Hiya lay with her head on Dev's chest, listening to the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat. His fingers idly traced circles along her back, neither rushed nor hesitant — just present. Just hers.
No words passed between them.
Because tonight didn't need them.
His breath warmed the crown of her head, and when she shifted slightly, he tilted her face up to his.
Their eyes met — no hunger this time, only depth.
Only longing carved into patience.
Hiya's fingers, delicate and unsure, touched the edge of his jaw. "Why do you always look at me like that?"
Dev answered without hesitation. "Because I still can't believe you're real."
A flush spread across her cheeks. She leaned into his touch as he cupped her face again — thumb brushing her lower lip, featherlight. Her body, once shy, now leaned closer, pulled not by boldness, but by need.
Not carnal.
But sacred.
He kissed her again — slow, like a secret. She responded this time with the same slowness, her fingers winding into his shirt, tugging him gently as if asking, Stay here. Just like this. Don't vanish.
His lips moved from her mouth to her jaw, then to the hollow just below her ear — a breath, a pause, a tender press of warmth that made her toes curl.
Hiya let her fingers roam upward — to his collarbone, over the strong line of his shoulder. She had never seen him tremble.
But now she did.
Every place she touched, he stilled. Not in restraint — in reverence.
When his hands reached the edges of her kurti, he paused. Looked into her eyes. Waited.
Hiya nodded — not boldly, but with honesty.
His hands slipped under the fabric, palms warm against her waist. She gasped softly — not from fear, but from the unbearable gentleness of it.
Dev worshipped her skin like scripture — a slow tracing along her back, her arms, her stomach. Every kiss he placed was a vow. Every breath shared between their lips, a verse.
When their clothes fell away, it wasn't for passion alone. It was to be seen.
Completely.
She lay beneath him, breath unsteady, lips parted. Her body arched into his touch as he whispered her name like prayer against her throat.
"Hiya…"
She had never heard her name sound so much like a promise.
And when they finally moved as one, it was not rushed. It was not wild. It was trembling. Vulnerable. Their rhythm found through heartbeat, not urgency.
Tears welled in her eyes — not from pain, not from fear — but from the overwhelming truth of being wanted. Fully. Fiercely.
Afterward, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, she traced her finger along the dip of his collarbone and whispered, "Was it always this soft?"
Dev exhaled. "No," he said, lips in her hair. "Only with you."
And outside, the rain had stopped.
But inside, they still poured — into each other — with every breath, every kiss, every silent vow that love, once whispered, now bloomed aloud in skin and soul.