All Strings Attached

Chapter Twenty-Five

"Dhushyanth—"

"Yes?" I answer.

Sita lowers her eyes, almost bashfully before she looks up at me. "Don't be a nuisance."

"I'm the nuisance?"

Her kohl-lined eyes narrow at me. "Are you implying that I'm a nuisance?"

"No," I confirm, "I'm saying I'm not. Are you saying there is a nuisance in this relationship for certain?"

"Yes."

"Then it might be you." I add a grin for sympathetic purposes.

Sita's eyes narrow at me, before she huffs and rolls her eyes, walking away from me, towards the bed.

"Oye," I call out to her, but she doesn't spare me a glance.

"Po bey," she mumbles, lying down and pulling the blanket over herself. "I'm going to nap, don't disturb me."

That, to me, only sounds like an invitation to disturb her. I lay down on my side of the bed and prop myself on my elbow. "Are you actually going to nap?" I wonder, peeking over her shoulder to look at her face.

Sita's lips move sideways in the most wifely manner, but she refuses to open her eyes.

"S-ita?" I sing, waiting for her to flip me off, but no reaction comes, as she pulls the blanket up to her neck and maintains her demeanour.

Smiling to myself, I wrap an arm around her waist to keep her in place before I smother her cheek with kisses. At first, she attempts to push my arm off, but when I maintain my hold, and continue to kiss her cheek, she begins to giggle and turns to face me, her face sobering up when her eyes meet mine.

"Muttukonu annaav?" [You said you wouldn't touch me?]

"Muttukovaddhu annaav?" [You said not to touch you.]

Sita pats my cheek, rather harshly, but there is a certain fondness on her face that makes me smile. "Context lekunda gola chesthunav. Nenu eppudu annaa muttukoku ani? Malli nannu nuisance annaav." [I said it within context. I didn't say not to touch me. And then you're calling me a nuisance?]

I press another kiss to her soft, plump cheek, smothering a chuckle as I do. "I was just teasing," I tell her, apologetically. "You're not a nuisance, of course not."

"Now you've already said it," she huffs, turning away once again. "What's the point of these reparations?"

"Sita," I call on her, sweetly, pulling her against my front before I snuggle into the crook of her neck. "Are you upset?"

"No, I'm thrilled my—" she pauses and clears her throat, her body tensing up within my hold— "you think I'm a nuisance," she finishes.

"So you care what I think about you?" I press, trying not to linger on her hesitation in calling me her husband.

"No..." she says, her pitch wavering as she does, "not really."

I find myself laughing at her insincere denial. "Okay," I agree, teasing her. "You should sleep for a bit if you want to come to the campaign this evening," I add, slowly, waiting for her reaction.

Sita looks up at me, without moving her head, as if waiting for me to say something else. When I don't, she continues to stare. "What is it?"

"Anthe na?" She asks. "No 'only if you want to', 'you don't have to, if you don't want to' all of that nonsense?" [Is that all?]

I chuckle. "Do you know that you don't have to do it if you don't want to?"

"Yes," she says.

"Do you still want to come?"