Missed Flights And First Times

Chapter 8

"Izhaan...?" Warisha looked around the room—it was empty. Not a single trace of her husband, and something looked off about the place that she couldn't quite place a finger on. She ran the towel over her hair to dry them, and walked out of the cool room, following the hushed whispers. When she saw Izhaan at the door of their suite, talking to a man in the hotel's uniform standing on the other side, she immediately ducked back into the room, hiding away because she wasn't wearing her hijab.

He turned at the door, pushing in a hotel cart lined with plates of food that made her stomach grumble. She stepped out from behind the door where she'd gone to hide to not creepily stare at him without him knowing. Though, Warisha was finding it rather easy to stand and stare at him for long, oblivious to her actions herself.

He looked up after he'd wheeled the cart into one corner, and a large grin split his face. "There you are. I was waiting for you. Come on," he ushered her over, stretching out an arm that he casually placed on the small of her back when she was in his reach. Warisha had to place a hand on her stomach to calm the butterflies that had erupted within.

Now that he'd lead her deeper into the living room and she could see the couch, she saw the pillows and blankets placed on it, undoubtedly taken from their bed.

"What's all this?" She asked sceptically, pulling her lip between her teeth—a habit.

"This," Izhaan waved a hand around the space, "is my preparation for our first movie night."

"Movie night...?"

Izhaan frowned. "You know those nights where you, like, watch movies and stuff?"

"I know what it means, Izhaan. I was just—nevermind."

But he understood anyway. "We have just two days together. You bet I'm going to spend every damn second I can with you here."

She smiled, and she was doing that a lot nowadays, since she'd met him properly. "Okay." She sat down on the couch, kicking off her fuzzy slippers and placed them on the end of the carpet.

Izhaan stopped and stared at her for a moment that lasted too long to be just a moment. Warisha stared back at him and he leaned over the back of the sofa, looking down at her.

"You're staring," she said, her voice breathless.

"You're pretty." Izhaan turned and walked to the cart, swallowing the urge to tell her that if he had been staring, she had been staring back.

He pushed the cart closer to the sofa so she could see everything that was on it. They were light dishes, easier to eat, and he handed her the plate of noodles and a fork to go with it.

"You're not eating anything?" Warisha asked when he didn't bring a plate for himself.

Izhaan only leaned back, arms spread over the arm and backrest, one hand holding the remote to browse through the movies. "Aap khilaayengi toh khaalenge."

*"If you feed me, I'll eat."

She shook her head at his antics. It was almost like having a child and a husband all in one man. Still, Warisha twisted the fork between the noodles and raised it to his mouth, saving the first bite for him. Izhaan's grin might just have been like she'd brought him the sun.

She snuggled comfortably in his arms, now more than content with being there as he brought her out of her comfort zone—or stepped into it with her. She turned her head, eyes leveling with his chin, and immediately felt her eyes softening at the sight of this man who'd everything one possible could to win her over. Now thinking of it, Warisha could admit she'd be a little more than just sad about going back hone and parting ways with him, inevitably.

"Movie saamne chal rahi hai, Warisha," Izhaan's lip turned up in something between a small smile and an arrogant smirk.

*"The movie's playing in the front, Warisha."

But this time, Warisha held her ground too. Her shoulders pushed back as she replied, "Jaanti hun."

*"I know."

He looked at her, not having expected the reply. "Phir aankhein idhar kyun hain?"

*"Then why are your eyes here?"

Not in a lifetime would he, or anyone else, have expected that she would do what she did next. Her hand rose, the tips of her fingers lightly brushing against the side of his face, before it settled on his cheek, cupping it. Warisha felt his skin getting warm under her hand, and may have been able to think more of it if her own heart hadn't been racing so hard in her chest. For a moment, she wanted to bolt for the hills, and Izhaan saw that moment of doubt, then held his breath, wondering what she'd do.

"Idhar aap bhi toh hain," she whispered, her words falling so close to him. The movie continued playing, like a third-wheel between the couple who didn't seem to need anyone except each other in the moment.

*"But you're here too."

Izhaan thought she'd kiss him—or maybe he'd been carried too far in his delusions. Yet, he'd had to clench his hands together to not grab her and finish what she'd started. Because, Warisha, like a chicken, had quickly dropped a peck on his cheek and stopped.

To her, her bravery was staying and facing her actions, instead of hiding away in the room.

While him? All he could think was how his woman was a tease without even knowing of it.

⭒✮⭒

An hour later, Izhaan was yawning—for the fifth time in a minute, as he realized that it may have been a bad decision to go for a movie night after a long day of exploring.

He grabbed the remote, paused the movie, then shut off the TV altogether. The heels of his palms pressed into his eyes as he tried to rub away the sleep so he wouldn't just collapse as he walked to the room.

Besides, he had a sleeping girl on his hands too.

Izhaan had known the exact moment she'd fallen asleep, but hadn't found the heart to ask her to walk to bed first. Not when she curled up in a ball by his side, her head resting on his shoulder, and her hand fisting the front of his shirt.

And now, some time later after she'd fallen asleep, Izhaan felt his heart going warm simply at the sight of her lips parting slightly and her cheek pressed into him.

But the question was if he was going to leave her here, and stay with her, or carry her to the cozy bed inside that was calling to Izhaan, attracting him like a magnet would.

So, he slowly slid his arm from her, and stilled when she shifted, then eased when she fell back asleep. He stood up, stretching his arms over his head and yawning yet again, as he gathered his strength to carry her. He couldn't think of a bigger nightmare than dropping her.

One hand slipped behind her back and the other went under her knees, lifting her off the question slowly, gently. But she rocked out of sleep regardless and looked up at him with eyes barely open, but the confusion clear as day.

"Izhaan...?"

He kissed the top of her head, feeling like he was going to drop dead any moment, delirious from sleep. He kicked the door to their bedroom open and lay her down on the bed, and pulled the comforter out from under the mattress and covered her with it. He'd not even removed his hotel slippers before sleep took him over and he fell back on the pillow, feeling like he was up in heaven, between the clouds.

Izhaan thought he came pretty close to paradise when he had a plush bed and a beautiful woman sleeping in it, with him.

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(A.N): A chapter? Look who remembered her responsibility.

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