Chapter 44

Night had wrapped itself softly around the apartment.

The city outside had quieted into distant lights and occasional sounds drifting through the balcony windows.

Inside though,

inside everything felt warm.

Safe.
Lived in.

The living room lights glowed golden against the walls.

A movie played forgotten in the background because none of them were actually watching it anymore.

Brownie sat abandoned between the cushions like an important fifth participant in the conversation.

And Kiki near the balcony swayed lightly whenever wind slipped through the curtains.

Anamika and Shivani occupied the carpet completely despite the couch being empty on one side.

Mostly because Shivani insisted sitting dramatically on the floor “felt emotionally richer.”

Nobody knew what that meant.

Not even Shivani herself.

Meanwhile Eraya sat tucked beside Zivah on the couch.

Not exactly in her arms.

But close enough that their thighs touched.

Close enough that Zivah’s hand rested absentmindedly against Eraya’s knee while talking.

And honestly,

it had become second nature now.

Touching her.

Checking if she was comfortable.

Looking for her first in every room.

The conversation itself had been chaotic for nearly half an hour.

Mostly because Shivani had started exposing embarrassing stories about Zivah’s school life.

“No because tell me WHY captain cool once tried climbing through the hostel window because she forgot her keys.”

“I was locked out.”

“You could’ve used the door.”

“The warden was there.”

Anamika laughed loudly.

Eraya too.

Her head falling slightly forward as soft laughter escaped her lips.

And immediately,

Zivah looked at her.

Like always.

It was automatic now.

Every single time Eraya laughed,

Zivah’s attention shifted instinctively.

Like the sound physically pulled her.

Shivani noticed instantly.

“You’re staring again.”

“I am literally sitting beside her.”

“That has never stopped you.”

Eraya hid her smile behind the cup in her hand while Zivah rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Jealousy is ugly, Shivani.”

“No, your obsession is ugly Zi.”

“It’s beautiful actually.”

Anamika corrected calmly.

“THANK YOU.”

“You’re still insufferable.” Shivani snorted

Laughter filled the room again.

Warm.

Easy.

The kind that settled softly into tired bones.

Eraya leaned back slightly against the couch cushions.

Relaxed enough now that she wasn’t constantly aware of herself anymore.

And that itself was still new.

Because there was a time when she monitored every movement.

Every word.

Every expression.

Trying not to upset someone.

Trying not to become a reason for anger.

But here?

Nobody looked at her like a burden waiting to happen.

Here she could laugh loudly.

Speak softly.

Exist quietly.

And still be loved.

And honestly,
this had become familiar too.

The teasing.

The warmth.

The feeling of belonging somewhere.

Something Eraya still wasn’t fully used to.

Because even now,
sometimes in moments like these,
she would suddenly pause internally.

And think,

Is this really my life?

People waiting for her.

Saving seats for her.

Arguing over snacks with her.

Protecting her.

Loving her.

Sometimes it still felt borrowed.

Temporary.

Like a dream she might wake up from.

Shivani suddenly sat up straighter.

“Wait.”

Everyone blinked at her.

“What?”

Anamika asked cautiously.

Shivani frowned slightly.

Her eyes fixed somewhere behind Eraya.

“Eraya…”

The room quieted subtly.

Eraya looked confused.

“Hm?”

Shivani slowly leaned forward.

“What happened there?”

Zivah’s brows furrowed immediately.

“Where?”

Shivani pointed lightly toward Eraya’s shoulder.

Or more specifically,
toward the area where the neckline of her loose
t-shirt had shifted slightly after she leaned back.

And there,
just near the upper curve of her shoulder blade,
barely visible beneath the collar,
was a scar.

Not huge.
Not dramatic.

But unmistakably painful.

A thin reddish mark near older faded bruising.
Like something that had healed badly.

Eraya froze instantly.

Not physically at first.

But internally.

Because she hadn’t realized it was visible.

Zivah followed Shivani’s gaze.

And the moment she saw it,
everything inside her went still.

Completely still.

“What is that?”

Her voice came quieter than before.

Too quiet.

Eraya immediately adjusted her shirt instinctively.

Not even consciously.

Just habit.

Hide it.
Minimize it.
Move on.

And that alone shattered something inside Zivah.

Because no one should react to pain like that.

No one should instinctively hide injuries like they were mistakes.

Anamika sat up straighter too now.

Concern replacing the softness in her expression.

“Eraya?”

Silence stretched.

Heavy.

The movie still played somewhere in the background.

But none of them heard it anymore.

Eraya looked down at her hands quietly.

Thinking.

Trying to decide whether this counted as important enough to mention.

And maybe that was the most heartbreaking thing.

Because to her,
it truly didn’t feel extraordinary.

Meanwhile Zivah kept staring at the tiny visible scar.

And suddenly,
she remembered dozens of moments.

Eraya avoiding sleeveless clothes.

Flinching slightly when touched unexpectedly near her shoulders.

Changing quickly.

Sleeping curled protectively sometimes.

The way Eraya apologized too quickly.

The way loud noises startled her.

The way she accepted hurt immediately instead of resisting.

The way she froze whenever someone sounded angry.

The way affection confused her initially.

God.

How much had she missed?

Zivah’s hand slowly moved toward Eraya’s.

Holding it tightly now.

Grounding.

Protective.

Almost trembling.

Finally,
quietly,

Eraya spoke.

“One day…”

She paused softly.

“…uncle came back from farming.”

Nobody interrupted.

“He had a loss that day.”

Her voice remained calm.

Too calm.

Like she had repeated this story silently inside herself too many times already.

“I made tea for him.”

Shivani’s expression darkened immediately.

“And while giving it…”

Eraya swallowed lightly.

“…a little spilled.”

Silence.

Then softly,

“He got angry.”

Something dangerous flashed across Zivah’s face instantly.

But Eraya continued before anyone could react.

“It wasn’t unusual.”

The sentence hit the room violently.

Anamika stared at her in disbelief.

“What do you mean not unusual?”

Eraya looked genuinely confused for a second.

Like she didn’t understand why they were reacting this strongly.

“If something bad happened…”

Her voice softened.

“…it usually became my fault somehow.”

Complete silence.

Because none of them knew what to do with that.

Not the words themselves.

But the acceptance inside them.

Like she truly believed suffering was naturally assigned to her.

Zivah’s jaw tightened so hard it hurt.

Because all she could picture now was Eraya,
small and terrified,
holding hot tea carefully,
and then getting beaten because of an accident.

And worse,
thinking she deserved it.

Shivani suddenly stood up so abruptly the table shook.

“How dare he touch you?”

Her voice cracked with fury.
Real fury.
Raw enough to shake.

“How DARE he?”

“Shivi-“

“No because what kind of monster does that?”

She cursed under her breath angrily.

“If I ever see that Thakur Sahab I swear I will actually kill him.”

Anamika immediately stood too trying to calm her.

“Shivi-“

“I’m serious, Mika!”

Her eyes burned furiously.

“She was literally just a child!”

Eraya stared at her quietly.

And then unexpectedly,
laughed softly.

Tiny.
Warm.
Almost helpless.

Not because anything was funny.

But because nobody had ever reacted like this for her before.

Nobody had ever gotten angry for her pain.

Usually people only told her to endure.

Adjust.
Stay quiet.
Accept.

But here?

Shivani looked ready to wage war for a scar.

That realization alone made something ache painfully inside Eraya’s chest.

“Shivi…”

She smiled softly.

“…I’m okay.”

“No you’re not.”

“I am now.”

That sentence broke something in the room.

Because she said it honestly.

I am now.

Meaning,
before this,

she hadn’t been.

Anamika’s eyes softened painfully hearing that.

She gently pulled Shivani back down beside her.

Though Shivani still looked seconds away from committing homicide.

Meanwhile,

Zivah still hadn’t spoken.

And somehow,

that frightened Eraya more than anger would have.

Because usually Zivah reacted immediately.

Emotionally.

Protectively.

Loudly.

But now,

she looked terrifyingly quiet.

Her eyes remained fixed somewhere near Eraya’s shoulder.

Not even blinking much.

And slowly,
Eraya realized something.

Zivah wasn’t just angry.

She was hurting.

Deeply.

Her fingers around Eraya’s hand tightened unconsciously.

Not enough to hurt.

But enough to reveal emotion.

Then finally,
very quietly,

“Did he do that often?”

The question nearly shattered Eraya.

Not because of the words.

But because of the voice behind them.

Zivah sounded devastated.

Eraya hesitated.

Only for a second.

But that second answered everything.

Anamika closed her eyes briefly.
Furious.
Heartbroken.

Shivani muttered another curse angrily under her breath.

And inside Zivah,

something collapsed quietly.

Because suddenly so many things made sense.

The apologizing.

The shrinking during conflict.

The fear of disappointing people.

The way Eraya accepted mistreatment instantly instead of resisting.

The way she acted surprised every time someone cared for her.

Those weren’t personality quirks.

Those were survival instincts.

And god,

that realization hurt.

It hurt so badly Zivah almost felt sick.

Because Eraya had lived through things she should never have survived emotionally.

And still somehow remained gentle.

Still somehow smiled softly.

Still somehow loved carefully.

How?

How did someone hurt this much remain this kind?

Eraya slowly turned toward her.

Her voice softer now.

Careful.

“Zivi…”

Zivah looked at her instantly.

“I don’t want to think about the past when I’m with you all.”

That nearly undid her completely.

Because Eraya said it like this place was sanctuary.

Like these people had become the first safe thing she ever touched.

Shivani sniffed angrily while glaring at nothing.

“You deserve so much better than all of that.”

Eraya smiled faintly.

“I have better now.”

Silence again.

Heavy.

Tender.

Achingly emotional.

Because none of them missed the meaning.

You.

All of you.

This life.

This love.

Anamika finally spoke softly after a moment.

Trying to ease the heaviness slightly.

“Well…”

She smiled gently.

“At least now she has a terrifyingly protective wife.”

Normally that would’ve earned immediate dramatic flirting from Zivah.

But tonight,

she only tightened her hold around Eraya’s hand again.

Still silent.

Still somewhere else mentally.

Because she could not stop imagining it.

Could not stop imagining someone raising a hand on Eraya.

Could not stop imagining her crying alone afterward.

Could not stop imagining her believing she deserved it.

And beneath all the anger,
beneath all the protectiveness,
there was grief too.

Grief for the version of Eraya that suffered alone for years.

The version nobody protected.

Eraya noticed the storm behind Zivah’s eyes immediately.

So quietly,
under the soft noise of resumed conversation,
she shifted closer.

Then gently rested her head against Zivah’s shoulder.

The movement was small.
But intentional.

And instantly,
Zivah softened.

Not completely.
But enough.

Enough that her hand moved upward instinctively,

carefully,
almost reverently,
resting against Eraya’s hair.

Protecting.
Grounding.
Holding.

Then quietly,
so quietly only she could hear,
Eraya whispered,

“I’m here now.”

And that sentence hurt Zivah almost as much as the scar itself.

Because all she could think was,

You should’ve always been safe.

The apartment had gone quiet hours ago.

Not empty quiet.

Not lonely quiet.

The kind of quiet that only came after emotional exhaustion.

After too many feelings had settled into too little space.

The lights in the living room were off now.

Only the soft warm lamp beside the bed glowed faintly against the bedroom walls.

Outside,
rain clouds hid the moon.

The balcony curtains moved gently with the night breeze.

And somewhere far away,
the city still breathed softly beneath darkness.

But inside the bedroom,
something heavier remained awake.

Eraya noticed it the moment she came out of the washroom.

Her oversized sleep shirt slipped softly against her shoulders.

And her fingers still absentmindedly dried themselves against the towel resting around her neck.

Usually by now,

Zivah would already be dramatic.

Complaining.

Demanding cuddles.

Arguing with Brownie for occupying “her side.”

But tonight,
she wasn’t lying down.

She sat near the headboard instead.

One knee drawn upward.

One arm resting over it.

Eyes distant.

Lost somewhere far away from the room.

And immediately,

Eraya knew.

She was thinking about the scars.

Zivah was still thinking about them.

Still replaying the conversation from earlier.

Still imagining things Eraya wished she wouldn’t imagine.

For a moment,
Eraya simply stood there quietly watching her.

And something inside her chest softened painfully.

Because nobody had ever looked this affected by her pain before.

Nobody had ever carried it after hearing about it.

But Zivah did.

Zivah loved her loudly.

Deeply.

Completely.

Even when she was silent.

Eraya slowly walked toward the bed.

The mattress dipped softly as she climbed onto it.

Still,

Zivah barely reacted.

That itself hurt Eraya a little.

Because she could see it now clearly,

the guilt.

The anger.

The helplessness sitting inside her.

So quietly,

Eraya moved closer.

Then gently cupped Zivah’s face.

The touch startled her slightly.

Her eyes lifted immediately.

And god,

they looked heavy.

Not angry anymore.

Not loud.

Just hurting.

Eraya’s thumb slowly brushed against the crease between Zivah’s brows.

The wrinkle formed from overthinking.

From carrying emotions too intensely.

“You’re thinking too much.”

Zivah let out the faintest breath at that.

“How do you always know?”

A tiny smile touched Eraya’s lips.

Sad.

Soft.

“Because you stop blinking properly.”

That almost made Zivah laugh.

Almost.

Instead,

she leaned unconsciously into Eraya’s touch.

Like her body naturally sought comfort from her now.

Eraya gently caressed her hair back.

Slowly.

Patiently.

And little by little,

the tension in Zivah’s face eased.

Not completely.

But enough.

Enough that her eyes finally softened again beneath Eraya’s touch.

God.

How strange love was.

A few months ago,

Zivah handled everything alone.

Every frustration.

Every fear.

Every exhaustion.

But now?

One touch from Eraya calmed storms inside her.

Eraya slowly removed her hands from Zivah’s face.

But before she could move away,

Zivah caught them gently.

Then pulled her closer until she sat beside her properly.

Their knees touching beneath the blanket.

For a few seconds,

neither spoke.

And then quietly,
carefully,
Zivah asked,

“Where else?”

Eraya blinked slightly.

“The scars.” Zivah continued.

Silence.

Zivah swallowed lightly before continuing.

“Where else did they hurt you?”

The question nearly shattered something inside Eraya.

Because no one had ever asked her that gently before.

Not accusingly.

Not impatiently.

Just…

with concern.

With love.

Eraya looked down quietly.

Her fingers twisting together slightly.

And Zivah instantly regretted asking when she saw hesitation enter her expression.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

“No…”

Eraya whispered softly.

“I want to.”

That made Zivah’s chest ache immediately.

Because trust still sounded fragile in Eraya’s voice.

Like she was handing over something delicate.

Eraya hesitated another moment.

Then quietly,

“My back.”

Zivah’s jaw tightened instantly.

“And…”

Eraya’s voice grew smaller.

“…near my waist too.”

Silence again.

Not uncomfortable.

Just heavy.

Zivah stared at her for a long second.

Then softly,
very softly,

“Why aren’t they healed?”

Eraya blinked.

Almost surprised by the question.

Then after a pause,

she answered honestly.

“My hands never reached there properly.”

Zivah felt something inside her chest physically ache.

Eraya continued quietly.

“And after some time…”

A faint shrug.

“…I got familiar with it.”

The sentence destroyed her.

Absolutely destroyed her.

Because people were not supposed to become familiar with pain.

Not like that.

Not to the point wounds simply became part of existence.

Zivah stood up suddenly.

Not aggressively.

Just abruptly enough that Eraya blinked in confusion.

Without saying anything,

Zivah walked toward the drawer near the study table.

Opened it.

Searched quietly.

Then returned holding a small cream tube.

And moisturizer.

Eraya’s breath caught slightly.

“Zivi…”

“Show me.”

Her voice came gentle.

But firm.

Eraya hesitated instantly.

Not because she didn’t trust her.

Because vulnerability still frightened her sometimes.

Showing scars felt too much like exposing weakness.

Like exposing evidence of all the years she survived silently.

Zivah noticed the hesitation immediately.

So she sat back down slowly beside her.

Then reached forward carefully,
brushing her fingers softly against Eraya’s cheek.

“You don’t have to hide from me.”

God.

Those words.

Something inside Eraya cracked quietly.

Because her entire life had been built around hiding.

Hiding bruises.

Hiding fear.

Hiding pain.

Hiding herself.

And now here was someone asking her not to.

Not with force.

Not with demand.

With love.

Slowly,

Eraya nodded.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she turned around carefully.

Back facing Zivah now.

Then hesitantly,

she lifted the back of her shirt enough.

And Zivah froze.

Completely.

Because suddenly,

the reality of it sat directly in front of her.

Faint marks across delicate skin.

Some old.

Some newer.

Some barely healed properly.

Thin uneven scars near the shoulder blade.

A darker faded mark lower near her waist.

Not grotesque.

Not graphic.

But devastating precisely because they existed at all.

Because someone had touched Eraya violently enough to leave marks behind.

Zivah stopped breathing for a second.

Her fingers holding the cream tightened slightly.

And suddenly,

she hated every single person who had ever hurt her girl.

How dare they?

How dare anyone look at someone this gentle and choose cruelty?

Meanwhile Eraya sat completely still.

Almost tense.

Waiting.

Because old habits remained.

Waiting for disgust.

For pity.

For discomfort.

Instead,
after several silent seconds,
she felt something unexpected.

A hand.

Very soft.

Very careful.

Resting lightly near her shoulder.

Not touching the scars yet.

Just grounding her first.

Asking permission silently.

Eraya’s shoulders slowly relaxed beneath the touch.

And then,
with hands so gentle they almost trembled,
Zivah applied the cream.

Carefully.
Slowly.

Like she was afraid hurting her even more.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

Only silence filled the room.

And the faint sound of rain beginning outside.

But the silence wasn’t empty.

It carried emotion too deep for language.

Zivah’s fingers moved softly across each mark.

Applying medicine with unbearable tenderness.

And every time her fingertips brushed against damaged skin,
something inside her twisted painfully.

Because all she could think was,

You survived this alone.

Eraya meanwhile sat motionless.

Not because she was uncomfortable.

Because she was overwhelmed.

No one had ever cared for her wounds before.

Not properly.

Pain had always been something to endure privately.

Quietly.

Without burdening anyone.

But now,
someone sat behind her at midnight treating old scars like they mattered.

Like she mattered.

And somehow,

that hurt more than the wounds themselves.

Because kindness after years of cruelty always felt almost unbearable.

Zivah finally whispered quietly,

“Did it hurt a lot?”

The question shattered Eraya softly.

Because she knew Zivah wasn’t asking about the scars.

She was asking about all of it.

The loneliness.

The fear.

The years.

Eraya swallowed lightly.

Then answered honestly.

“At that time…”

Her voice trembled faintly.

“…I think I stopped noticing.”

Zivah closed her eyes briefly.

Pain flashing across her face.

Because numbness was never strength.

It was survival.

And Eraya had survived too much.

After finishing carefully,
Zivah lowered the shirt gently back over her shoulders.

Almost protectively.

Then softly turned Eraya toward herself again.

Their eyes met.

And for a second,
neither breathed properly.

Because there was too much emotion there.

Too much love.

Too much ache.

Then unexpectedly,
Zivah picked up the moisturizer bottle.

Eraya blinked in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“Skincare.”

Despite everything,
a tiny laugh escaped Eraya.

Zivah smiled faintly at the sound.

Finally.

Then she squeezed a little moisturizer onto her fingers.

And gently dabbed it onto Eraya’s cheeks.

Forehead.

Nose.

Deliberately dramatic.

Eraya laughed softly again.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re dry-skinned.”

“I am not.”

“You absolutely are.”

Carefully,
slowly,
Zivah spread the moisturizer over her face.

And then,
using one finger,

she drew a tiny heart on Eraya’s cheek.

Eraya stared at her.

Then smiled.

Small.

Real.

Beautiful.

And instantly,

everything inside Zivah softened again.

God.

That smile.

It healed parts of her too.

Without thinking,

Zivah leaned forward.

Then kissed the heart she had drawn.

Softly.

Right over Eraya’s cheek.

Eraya’s breath caught slightly.

And suddenly,
the room no longer felt heavy.

Still emotional.
Still aching.

But warm too.

Safe.

Zivah rested her forehead gently against Eraya’s afterward.

Then quietly,
with complete certainty,
She said,

“From now on…”

Her fingers curled softly around Eraya’s hand.

“…no one will ever dare touch you again.”

Not a promise made dramatically.

Not possessive.

But Protective.

Absolute.

And Eraya believed her instantly.

Because for the first time in her life,
someone’s love felt stronger than her fear.

A tiny smile touched her lips.

Then softly,
she whispered,

“I know.”

And that answer nearly made Zivah cry.

Morning arrived softly.

Not loudly.

Not suddenly.

It slipped quietly through the curtains in pale golden streaks, filling the bedroom little by little with warmth.

The balcony curtains swayed lazily with the morning breeze.

Kiki sat near the window dramatically glowing under sunlight like the plant knew it was loved.

Brownie had somehow fallen halfway off the bed during the night because Zivah had apparently “accidentally” pushed him away in sleep again.

And in the middle of all that warmth,
Eraya slowly woke up.

At first,

she didn’t move.

Because she immediately realized where she was.

Wrapped completely inside Zivah’s arms.

One arm beneath her waist.

The other draped securely over her stomach.

Her face tucked near Eraya’s neck.

Warm breath fanning softly against her skin.

And somehow,
even after all this time,

Eraya still felt her heart stumble every morning seeing this.

Because this was real.

Zivah loved her.

Actually loved her.

Not temporarily.

Not conditionally.

Not carefully.

Completely.

The realization still overwhelmed her sometimes.

Eraya stayed still for a few moments longer just staring at Zivah’s sleeping face.

God.

She looked beautiful like this.

Peaceful.
Soft.
Younger somehow.

Without her usual teasing smirk or dramatic expressions,

Zivah looked almost unfairly gentle in sleep.

A few strands of hair had fallen over her forehead.

Her lashes rested softly against her cheeks.

And her lips remained slightly parted like she had fallen asleep mid-thought.

Eraya’s eyes softened instantly.

Something warm spread slowly through her chest.

So deep it almost hurt.

How had she become this lucky?

There had been a time when mornings terrified her.

When waking up only meant another day to survive.

Another day of silence.

Fear.

Loneliness.

But now?

Now mornings looked like this.

Warm arms.

Soft sunlight.

A girl who held her even in sleep like she was something precious.

And suddenly,

Eraya felt emotional for absolutely no reason.

Well.

No.

There was a reason.

Love.

She loved this girl so much it genuinely frightened her sometimes.

A tiny smile appeared on her lips as she reached up carefully,

slowly brushing a strand of hair away from Zivah’s forehead.

Immediately,
without even waking fully,
Zivah leaned closer instinctively.

Eraya laughed silently.

“Clingy.”

She whispered softly.

No response.

Only Zivah tightening her hold unconsciously.

Eraya stayed there another minute.

Maybe two.

Just looking at her.

Then eventually,
reality arrived.

Washroom.

College.

Existing responsibilities.

With visible reluctance,

Eraya carefully tried moving backward slightly.

Very slowly.

Trying not to wake the human octopus holding her hostage.

For exactly two seconds,
it worked.

Then suddenly,
Zivah’s arms tightened.

Strongly.

And before Eraya could react,
she was pulled directly back against her.

Eraya blinked in shock.

“What-“

A sleepy voice mumbled near her neck,

“No.”

Eraya stared at the ceiling in disbelief.

“Zivi.”

“Hm.”

“Leave me.”

“No.”

“I need to go.”

“You don’t.”

“I literally do.”

“No you don’t.”

Eraya twisted slightly trying to look at her.

Zivah’s eyes were still closed.

Which somehow made this even more ridiculous.

“You’re not even awake properly.”

“I’m awake enough to know you’re escaping.”

“I am not escaping.”

“You are leaving my arms.”

“Because I need the washroom!”

“That sounds fake.”

Eraya gasped dramatically.

“Excuse me?”

Zivah finally cracked one eye open lazily.

Then immediately pulled her even closer.

“There.”

“Zivi!”

“Hm?”

“I can’t breathe.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“You’re crushing me.”

“You’re tiny.”

“That doesn’t mean you can fold me like laundry!”

That finally made Zivah laugh softly.

Still half asleep.

Still refusing to let go.

God.

Morning Zivah was genuinely impossible.

Eraya tried pushing her arm away again.

Which was a mistake.

Because immediately,
Zivah tightened her hold further and buried her face directly against Eraya’s shoulder.

“No.”

“You’re acting like Brownie.”

“At least Brownie understands loyalty.”

Eraya laughed helplessly.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m sleepy.”

“You slept for eight hours.”

“Not enough.”

“College exists.”

“Unfortunately.”

Eraya shook her head while smiling despite herself.

Honestly,
she should’ve been annoyed.

But she couldn’t be.

Not when Zivah looked this soft.

This affectionate.

This comfortable with her.

And maybe that was the dangerous thing about love.

Even inconveniences became adorable.

Eraya tried reasoning again.

“Zivi…”

“Hm?”

“I genuinely need to get up.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m comfortable.”

“You’re treating me like a pillow.”

“You’re warmer than pillows.”

“That’s not romantic.”

“It’s honest.”

Eraya burst out laughing softly again.

And instantly,
Zivah smiled hearing it.

Still without opening her eyes fully.

There it was again.

That thing Eraya had noticed long ago.

No matter how sleepy or annoyed or distracted Zivah was,

her laughter reached her immediately.

Every time.

Eraya softened visibly at the realization.

Then quietly,
she leaned down slightly and kissed Zivah’s forehead.

Immediately,
both eyes opened.

Zivah stared at her silently for two seconds.

Then smirked lazily.

“That was manipulative.”

“You deserved it.”

“I deserve another.”

“You deserve sleep.”

“I deserve my wife.”

“That sounds concerning.”

“It’s romantic.”

“It’s clingy.”

“It’s marriage.”

Eraya physically hid her face in embarrassment for a second.

Which only made Zivah grin wider.

God.

She loved teasing her too much.

Meanwhile,
the sunlight continued filling the room slowly.

Golden light now falling directly over Zivah’s face.

Eraya paused again just looking at her.

And suddenly,
something hit her quietly.

This.

This exact moment.

This was the kind of thing she used to secretly dream about without realizing.

Not grand romance.

Not dramatic confessions.

Just this.

Being wanted in ordinary mornings.

Being held without fear.

Being loved before breakfast.

Her chest tightened softly.

And maybe Zivah noticed the shift in her expression.

Because her teasing softened instantly.

“What happened?”

Eraya shook her head slightly.

Smiling.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“You just look…”

She hesitated softly.

“…very lovable in the morning.”

Zivah froze.

Actually froze.

Then slowly,
very slowly,
her entire expression melted.

“Say that again.”

“No.”

“Eraya.”

“You’ll become arrogant.”

“I already am.”

“That’s true.”

Zivah laughed quietly before hiding her face against Eraya again dramatically.

“You can’t say things like that and expect me to function.”

“You weren’t functioning anyway.”

“Rude.”

“I’m honest.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Eraya immediately stopped moving.

And there it was.

Again.

That effect Zivah had on her.

The ability to make her blush with one sentence.

Zivah smiled knowingly seeing her reaction.

Then leaned upward slightly and kissed her
cheek lazily.

“Mine.”

She mumbled sleepily.

Eraya’s heart genuinely malfunctioned.

Before she could recover though,

her phone suddenly vibrated loudly from the side table.

Both of them blinked.

Eraya turned slightly trying to reach it.
But of course,
Zivah still refused to loosen her hold properly.

“Zivi!”

“What?”

“Phone.”

“Ignore it.”

“It’s Parvati di!”

That got her attention.

Immediately,
Zivah leaned slightly to look at the screen.

And indeed,
Parvati’s video call flashed brightly.

Eraya instantly panicked.

“Leave me!”

Zivah looked deeply amused suddenly.

“Why?”

“She’ll see us like this!”

“So?”

“So?!”

Eraya whisper-yelled.

Zivah grinned shamelessly.

“I’m loving my wife.”

Eraya covered her face instantly.

“Zivah!”

“What?”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re cute when embarrassed.”

“Please leave me!”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Say I’m your favorite person.”

“You already know that!”

“Still.”

Eraya groaned dramatically.

“Zivi.”

“Hm?”

“You’re my favorite person.”

“Again.”

“You’re annoying.”

“True. Again.”

Eraya laughed helplessly despite herself.

Then finally sighed dramatically.

“You’re my favorite person.”

Satisfied,

Zivah finally loosened her grip slightly.

Immediately Eraya sat up laughing breathlessly.

Hair messy.

Cheeks flushed.

Eyes sparkling.

And honestly,

Zivah forgot about the phone for a second just staring at her.

Because god,

she looked beautiful happy.

Actually happy.

And maybe that remained Zivah’s favorite thing in the world.

Not Eraya smiling politely.
Not surviving quietly.

But this.

Laughing openly in morning sunlight while escaping cuddles.

The phone rang again loudly.

Eraya quickly grabbed it while trying to calm herself.

Meanwhile,
behind her,

Zivah simply stretched lazily against the bed smiling to herself.

Completely in love.

And entirely unashamed about it.

Eraya accepted the video call still trying to calm her breathing.

Which was difficult.

Very difficult.

Because behind her,
Zivah had absolutely no shame.

The moment the call connected,

Parvati’s face appeared on screen instantly.
Bright.
Warm.
Familiar.

And within exactly two seconds,
her eyes narrowed knowingly.

“Ohhh.”

Eraya froze.

Parvati leaned closer dramatically toward the screen.

Then gasped loudly.

“Someone had a very good morning.”

“Di!”

Eraya groaned immediately.

Because she knew.

She absolutely knew what Parvati had noticed.

The flushed cheeks.

The messy hair.

The glowing expression she clearly still hadn’t recovered from.

Behind her,
Zivah physically buried her face in the pillow trying not to laugh.

Which only made it worse.

Parvati pointed dramatically through the screen.

“Look at your face!”

“I just woke up!”

“That is not a ‘just woke up’ face.”

“It is!”

“That is a ‘someone was flirting before breakfast’ face.”

Zivah lost it completely.

Laughing directly behind Eraya now.

Eraya turned instantly glaring at her.

“This is your fault.”

“Absolutely.”

Zivah answered proudly.

Parvati clutched her chest dramatically.

“Oh my god she admitted it so confidently.”

Eraya hid half her face behind her hand.

Why was everyone in her life dramatic?

Then suddenly,

both she and Parvati spoke at the exact same time.

“I have a good news!”

They both stopped.

Blinked.

Then stared at each other.

A second later,
both burst into laughter simultaneously.

Zivah sat up properly beside Eraya now watching them fondly.

Parvati pointed immediately.

“No you first.”

“No di, you first.”

“No no yours sounds suspicious.”

“Yours sounded exciting!”

“Yours sounded romantic.”

“Di!”

Zivah meanwhile leaned comfortably against the headboard beside Eraya looking deeply entertained by this entire interaction.

Parvati finally noticed her properly.

“Acha, forget her for one second.”

She pointed at Zivah.

“How is my favorite person?”

Zivah immediately looked amused.

“You met me once.”

“And I already chose favorites.”

“That’s valid.”

Eraya laughed softly beside her.

Parvati smiled fondly seeing the way naturally they sat together.

Close.

Comfortable.

Like they had always belonged beside one another.

“How are you, Zivah?”

Instead of answering immediately,
Zivah looked sideways at Eraya.

Actually looked at her.

And then with the softest expression,
She said quietly,

“I’m having the fun of my life.”

Eraya’s breath caught slightly.

Parvati noticed instantly.

The softness.

The affection.

The way Zivah looked at Eraya like the sentence genuinely meant something deeper.

And suddenly,
Parvati’s smile softened too.

Because months ago,
Eraya barely smiled properly.

Now?

Now there was warmth in her eyes every single time she looked at this girl.

Parvati cleared her throat dramatically before she got emotional.

“Okay enough romance. My news first.”

“Yes!”

Zivah sat up instantly interested.

“Tell us.”

Parvati suddenly became suspiciously quiet.

Then she adjusted the phone angle.

Smiled slowly.

And whispered dramatically,

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Complete silence.

Both Eraya and Zivah froze.

Actually froze.

Then simultaneously,

“What?!”

Parvati burst out laughing at their identical reactions.

Zivah literally jumped up from the bed.

“NO WAY.”

Parvati nodded excitedly.

“Oh my god.”

“OH MY GOD.”

Zivah was pacing now.

Actually pacing on the bed.

“When?!”

“How?!”

Parvati stared at her flatly.

“How do you think?”

Eraya burst into helpless laughter.

While Zivah dramatically covered her face.

“Okay that was a stupid question.”

“A deeply stupid one.”

“But oh my god congratulations!”

Eraya’s eyes softened beautifully.

“Congrats di.”

She smiled warmly.

“That’s amazing.”

And Parvati’s expression melted instantly hearing that.

Because god,
Eraya looked genuinely happy for her.

Not politely.
Not carefully.

Truly happy.

“Thank you.”

Parvati whispered softly.

Zivah meanwhile was still dramatically emotional.

“I’m becoming maasi.”

“You’re becoming dramatic.”

“I need tiny shoes immediately.”

“The baby is the size of a grape.”

“Tiny grape shoes then.”

Eraya laughed so hard she nearly dropped the phone.

Parvati pointed accusingly toward Zivah.

“You’re going to spoil this child.”

“Absolutely.”

“Dangerous.”

“Accurate.”

Eraya sat there just watching them.

Heart warm.

Because this,
this ease,
felt so precious to her.

People talking happily.

Teasing lovingly.

Dreaming about futures together.

She had never really belonged inside moments like these before.

But now,

she did.

Parvati suddenly narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Now wait.”

Eraya blinked innocently.

“You said you had good news too.”

Immediately,

Eraya flushed again.

Zivah noticed instantly.
And immediately smirked.

“Oh?”

Eraya glared at her softly.

Parvati gasped dramatically again.

“OH MY GOD.”

“It’s not-“

“Did you finally confess?”

Eraya choked.

Zivah physically covered her mouth trying not to laugh.

Parvati pointed aggressively at the screen.

“I KNEW IT.”

Eraya buried her face in her hands.

Why was this conversation attacking her personally?

Before she could respond though,

Zivah suddenly leaned toward her casually.

Then kissed her cheek softly.

Naturally.

Like breathing.

“I’ll come back after freshening up.”

She murmured.

Then added shamelessly,

“Parvati di, stay on call.”

Parvati froze.

Actually froze.

Because the action had been so natural.

So practiced.

So domestic.

Not hesitant.
Not awkward.

As if kissing Eraya randomly during conversations had already become routine.

And Eraya?

Completely flushed.

Eyes wide.

Still visibly affected by something so simple.

Zivah grinned proudly seeing that reaction before walking toward the washroom.

Completely pleased with herself.

The moment the door closed,
Parvati exploded laughing.

“ERAYA.”

“Di stop.”

“That was your good news?!”

Eraya covered her burning face immediately.

“No- yes- maybe-“

“Oh my god.”

Parvati clutched her chest dramatically.

“She’s kissing you casually now.”

Eraya laughed helplessly.

“She does that a lot.”

Parvati physically screamed.

Mutedly.

Because apparently excitement had taken over her entire system.

“Tell me EVERYTHING.”

And somehow,

Eraya actually did.

At first slowly.
A little shyly.

But then the words simply started flowing.

She told her about the confession.

How it happened during that painful argument after the bullying.

How Zivah accidentally blurted out,

“I’m worried because I love you.”

And how everything had changed afterward.

Parvati listened silently.

Smiling softer and softer with every sentence.

Then Eraya spoke about that night afterward.

How Zivah ignored her all day because she got scared.

How she thought Eraya might not love her back.

Parvati laughed softly.

“She sounds so confident outside but emotionally she’s just panic.”

“She really is.”

Eraya admitted with a fond smile.

Then slowly,
the stories continued.

The cuddles.

The teasing.

Brownie.

Kiki.

The nickname.

Zivi.

Parvati physically froze hearing it.

“You call her Zivi?”

Eraya immediately smiled unconsciously.

That soft smile.

The one reserved only for Zivah.

“Hm.”

“Oh that’s disgustingly adorable.”

Eraya laughed shyly.

“She loves it too much.”

“As she should.”

Then slowly,
without even realizing,

Eraya began talking about Zivah differently.

Not just describing actions.
Describing feelings.

How Zivah remembered small things.
How she massaged her legs every afternoon and applied cream on her scars.
How she made apple mint water without fail.
How she noticed silences immediately.
How she protected her without making her feel weak.

And somewhere during all that,
Parvati stopped interrupting.

Stopped teasing.
Stopped laughing.

Because suddenly,
she noticed something far more important.

Eraya sounded healed.

Not fully.
Not magically.

But healing.

The difference was enormous.

Months ago,

every sentence from Eraya carried hesitation.

Fear.

Apology.

Now?

Now she smiled while speaking.
Now affection came naturally to her.
Now love sat openly in her voice.

Parvati felt her own chest tighten quietly.

Because she remembered the girl who used to stare blankly during calls.

Who never spoke about herself.

Who treated happiness like something temporary.

And now here she was,
blushing over forehead kisses and cuddles.

God.

Love really had changed her.

Parvati smiled softly.

Then quietly asked,

“You really love her, don’t you?”

Eraya went still for a second.

Then slowly,
very slowly,
she smiled.

The kind of smile that answered before words did.

“Yes.”

She whispered.

“So much.”

Parvati’s eyes softened instantly.

“And she loves you like breathing.”

Eraya looked toward the washroom door unconsciously.

Then laughed softly.

“She’s very clingy.”

Parvati grinned.

“Oh I can tell.”

“She gets jealous of Brownie.”

“The teddy bear?”

“Yes.”

Parvati burst into laughter again.

“No actually wait that’s completely believable.”

“She literally removes Brownie from between us while sleeping.”

“Oh my god.”

“And then says that’s her place.”

Parvati laughed so hard tears formed in her eyes.

Meanwhile,
inside the washroom,

Zivah could faintly hear laughter outside.

And immediately smiled to herself.

Because Eraya’s laughter had become her favorite sound too.

Back outside,
Parvati eventually calmed slightly.

Then quietly,
very gently,
said something that made Eraya’s chest ache.

“You sound happy, Eraya.”

Silence filled the room softly.

Eraya blinked slightly.

Because the thing was,
she really was.

And maybe she still hadn’t fully realized it herself until now.

Parvati smiled seeing realization slowly appear on her face.

Then softly, she added.

“You deserve this happiness.”

And suddenly,
unexpectedly,
Eraya’s eyes stung slightly.

Because all her life,

love had felt like something she needed permission to receive.

But now,
for the first time,

someone was telling her she deserved it naturally.

Without conditions.

Without earning it through suffering first.

Just because she existed.

Eraya smiled through the emotion quietly.

Then softly whispered,

“I think… Zivi made me believe that too.”

And somewhere deep inside Parvati,

something settled peacefully.

Because the girl she once worried endlessly about,

had finally found home in someone.
_____________