"She became his home, the place he felt safest, the place he felt most himself. "

Roohi's pov:

Vivaan had been inside his studio since early morning. I'm not sure why, but I felt this strange pull to bring him something, to connect with him in a way that felt real. I made coffee, hoping it would make him smile, hoping it would somehow lighten the weight he carried.

I stood outside the door of his studio, uncertain. I had never ventured inside before. The door was slightly ajar, and I could hear him moving around. Hesitating for a moment, I knocked gently, my heart pounding in my chest.

The door swung open, and Vivaan looked up, his expression softening when he saw me.

"Coffee," I said, holding the cup out for him.

He smiled, that quiet smile that always made my heart race. "Thank you, Roohi." He took the cup from my hands, and before I could step back, he took my hand gently in his.

"Come in," he said, his voice calm but inviting.

I followed him inside, the space around me feeling so different from what I had imagined. The walls were lined with his artwork , each piece more beautiful than the last. I was in awe of the creativity that poured out of him.

"Vivaan, these... they're awesome ," I whispered, walking up to one painting after another, admiring every stroke of color, every line that seemed to capture a moment, a feeling.

"Thank you," he murmured, standing behind me. "It's... it's my way of expressing things I don't know how to say."

I smiled softly, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for him, for his art. But then, something caught my eye, something that made my breath catch in my throat. It was a series of paintings, all the same - the bouquet I had given him on our wedding day.

I turned to him, my voice trembling slightly. "Vivaan... this bouquet... there are so many paintings of it..."

He walked over to the canvas and stopped in front of it. "You're the first person who ever gave me flowers, Roohi." His voice was quiet, almost reverent. "That night... I couldn't sleep. I just kept thinking about it. I wanted to capture it, but one painting didn't feel enough." He paused, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. "After painting on 50 canvases, I hope I've done it justice."

I was shocked would be an understatement.My heart swelled with warmth, my fingers tracing the edges of the painting. "Vivaan... this is... it's beautiful. I never thought you would like my simple gesture this much."

His gaze softened as he watched me, but then I noticed something else, something even more surprising. There, among the paintings, were photographs of me - my childhood pictures. I stared at them in disbelief.

"How did you get these?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

His ears turned pink, and he looked away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Well..." he stuttered, clearly unsure of how to explain. "When I came to pick you up after the pagphera ritual... you were packing your things, and I... I took your childhood pictures with my phone. You looked so cute, and I couldn't resist. I know it sounds silly, but I had to capture it."

I blinked in surprise, my heart fluttering. "You took pictures of my childhood photos?" I laughed softly, feeling a blush creeping up my neck. "You never told me about this."

He avoided my gaze, clearly embarrassed. "I just... couldn't control myself. You were so innocent, so... beautiful in those pictures. I had to keep them."

I laughed again, my heart full of affection for him. "You're unbelievable, Mr. Chaturvedi."

His lips curled into a smile, and he stepped closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Are you blushing, Mrs. Chaturvedi?" he teased gently, his voice warm and playful.

I quickly looked away, my cheeks flushing deeper. "No, I'm not! You're just... you're too much."

Vivaan chuckled, the sound making my heart skip a beat. He turned to the painting of my childhood, his hand gently brushing over it. "You've always been beautiful, Roohi," he said softly, his tone sincere. "I wanted to make sure you knew that."

I was quiet for a moment, taking in his words. "I never thought anyone would look at my childhood pictures the way you do," I murmured, my voice full of gratitude.

"Of course I do," he said, his voice filled with affection. "You're my everything, Roohi."

I felt my heart swell with love for him, and in that moment, I realized just how deep my feelings for him had grown. He wasn't just the man I had married , he was becoming a part of my soul.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice full of emotion.

Vivaan smiled, taking my hand gently in his. "No, thank you, Roohi. For being a part of my life."

And in that moment, surrounded by his paintings and the warmth of his presence, I knew that no matter what came next, we would face it together.
With that I left his studio.

______________________________________

I've learned to cook a few dishes now, and today, I wanted to surprise Vivaan. Mostly, he's the one who takes over the kitchen and prepares food for us. But not today.

I walked into the studio, where he was busy working, and asked gently, "Vivaan, what would you like for lunch today?"

He glanced at me briefly, his hands smeared with colors, and said, "I don't want lunch, Roohi."

I frowned. "Why not?"

He sighed, pausing his brush strokes. "I have a lot to paint. Next week's art exhibition is crucial, and I need to finish these pieces. When I'm in the zone like this, I just don't think about food. Besides, even when I try, my hands are covered in paint no matter how much I wash them, and the smell sticks. I'd rather not eat during these sessions."

My heart clenched. Before, he didn't have anyone to look after him, but now he has me. I wasn't going to let him go on like this. I left the studio without another word, determined.

"Roohi!" I heard him call, but I didn't stop.

I know his favorite comfort food , dal chawal and potato fry. It's simple, but it's something that makes him happy. As I entered the kitchen, I rolled up my sleeves, ready to make it perfect.

I started with the dal, washing the lentils carefully and setting them to boil. The soft, earthy aroma began to fill the kitchen. Next, I peeled and sliced the potatoes, frying them golden and crisp. The sound of the sizzling oil made me smile - I could almost hear Vivaan's voice from our earlier conversations about how much he loved crispy potatoes.

While the rice steamed, I tempered the dal with cumin, garlic, and chilies, the sizzling spices releasing a delicious aroma. I plated everything neatly, the sight of the golden dal and fluffy rice making me happy.

Vivaan's pov:

I heard a soft knock at the studio door. Turning around, I saw Roohi standing there, holding a plate.

"Come on, let's eat," she said, her voice firm yet gentle. "You've been working nonstop. Take a small break."

"No, Roohi," I replied, shaking my head. "I really can't eat right now."

She folded her arms, her eyebrows raised. "Either you come with me now, or I won't eat either."

Her stomach grumbled softly, betraying her resolve. My own determination crumbled , I couldn't let her starve because of me. I sighed, setting my brush down, and went to wash my hands.

When I returned, she was already at the table, serving a plate. The sight made me pause - dal chawal and potato fry, my favorite.

"You made this for me?" I asked, touched.

She smiled, the kind of smile that made my chest feel warm. "Then for whom else? The neighbors?"

I chuckled, taking the plate. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble, Roohi."

She shook her head. "It's not trouble if it's for you, Vivaan."

I reached for the spoon, thinking she'd hand me the plate. But to my surprise, she took a handful of rice and dal in her hands and brought it up to my lips.

"Roohi..." I whispered, stunned.

"Come on, eat," she said softly, her eyes holding mine.

Her hands...her hands were so delicate, so caring. Each bite tasted better because it came from her. My heart swelled with emotions I couldn't even name. How did I get this lucky?

"You eat too, Roohi," I said, watching her.

She didn't grab another plate. Instead, she smiled and took a bite from the same plate.

"You know," she spoke, "if you don't take care of yourself, how are you going to have the energy to paint all those masterpieces?"

I laughed softly. "I think this meal alone gave me all the energy I need."

We ate together, laughing softly at little things, her presence filling every corner of my heart.
______________________________________

After Lunch

When we finished, I insisted on doing the dishes while she cleaned the kitchen.

"Vivaan," she said as she wiped the counter, "you don't always have to be so quiet. You can tell me when you're tired or need something. I want to be there for you."

I turned to her, drying my hands. "I know, Roohi. I'm just...not used to it yet. Having someone who cares."

She walked closer, placing her hand gently on my cheek. "Well, you better get used to it because I'm not going anywhere."

Her warmth melted away the last of my hesitations. Unable to hold back, I pulled her into my arms.

Her wide eyes met mine, and I spoke from the depths of my heart. "Thank you, Roohi. Thank you for taking care of me, for thinking of me, for being here."

Her expression softened, and she leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "Always, Vivaan."

In that moment, I realized, I needed her.She is my woman who i am falling in love with. She was the home I never knew I craved.

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