The early morning light slipped through the curtains, gentle and gold, spilling over the edges of the bed where Ayaan and Tara lay—still, quiet, and a little unsure.

They had barely spoken last night beyond polite conversation and shared glances that hovered between curiosity and caution. The room still felt unfamiliar, like a hotel more than a home, the air thick with newness.

Tara stirred first.

She sat up carefully, pulling the dupatta around her shoulders out of instinct more than need. The silence of the room pressed in until she heard the faint clink of a spoon against a cup. Ayaan was already awake.

She found him in the kitchen, awkwardly trying to make tea.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips.

He turned, startled but smiling too. “I thought I’d try… to start the day right.”

She walked closer, still wrapped in the faint scent of last night’s wedding flowers, and took the spoon from his hand. “Let’s do it together.”

They moved clumsily around each other in the narrow space—two strangers learning the choreography of closeness. His hand brushed hers when she passed him the sugar, and they both paused.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

She nodded. “Eventually. My head was full.”

“Mine too,” he admitted. “But… I’m glad you’re here.”

She looked up at him, really looked—at the tired honesty in his eyes, the gentleness in his voice. For the first time, she felt a small part of herself begin to relax.

As the tea boiled, a quiet settled over them, not cold or distant—but the kind that comes when something is slowly starting to grow.

When they sat together with warm cups in hand, the silence wasn’t uncomfortable anymore.

It felt like a beginning.

Hey Floks!!

Don’t be sad! What you are looking for is in next chapters