The first day(2)

After more small talk and reminders about college reopening and Subbarao's upcoming transfer to Mumbai, the guests and helpers trickled out. The house, now quiet again, felt bigger—emptier, somehow.

Arjun sighed inwardly. I should show her upstairs. Or maybe I should let her explore on her own. Would that be less awkward?

Still, he found himself asking, "Shall we see the next floor?"

Shruti nodded softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes."

"Let's go," he said, turning toward the stairs, relieved to have something—anything—to focus on.

But before he could take a step, Subbarao clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not you, mister. I'm showing the next floor to my daughter-in-law."

Arjun blinked. "Okay… but why are you so excited all of a sudden?"

"Nothing, my dumbass son," Subbarao said, grinning. "Can't I be happy about showing my house to my daughter-in-law? You got a problem?"

Shruti giggled then—a soft, sweet sound that caught Arjun off guard. He glanced at her, and for the first time that day, saw the edge of her nervousness fade, replaced by genuine amusement. The sound of her laughter felt like sunlight cracking through an overcast sky.

Maybe, Arjun thought, this won't be so bad after all.

"Nope," he said aloud, trying not to smile too much. "Show her the house all you want."

Subbarao led the way upstairs like a man on a mission, pointing out the guest rooms, their cupboards, the window views, all while sprinkling his commentary with terrible dad jokes that somehow made Shruti giggle more.

Finally, they stopped at a door—his door.

Subbarao turned with a theatrical flourish, giving Shruti a knowing look. "This is your room," he said, the "your" pointedly plural.

Shruti's smile froze. Her brows lifted in surprise, and she looked down, chewing the corner of her lip, uncertainty clouding her expression.

What's going on? Arjun wondered, alarm bells ringing in his head. He stepped forward quickly, reaching for the doorknob. "Let me just—"

He pushed the door open—

And his jaw dropped.

The room was unrecognizable. The bed was decorated with rose petals arranged in a sloppy heart shape. The pillows had shiny new covers. Someone—probably Kiran—had placed a box of chocolates and a bottle of soft drink on the side table like some kind of clumsy romantic setup. There were fairy lights hung messily across the curtain rod, half of them already flickering like they were about to short-circuit.

Arjun stared. His mind blanked. "What the f—" he whispered, too stunned to finish.

Shruti stood behind him, her eyes wide, cheeks turning pink. She didn't step inside. She just stood there, hands clasped tightly, probably wishing she could disappear into the floor.

Kiran appeared beside him, barely containing his laughter. "You're welcome, buddy," he whispered. "My masterpiece."

Arjun closed his eyes and sighed, resisting the urge to strangle his friend on the spot.

This night just keeps getting better.

Author's POV:

The room was draped in maroon and golden curtains, heavy and ornate, as if someone had tried to recreate a palace chamber in fast-forward. The bed was an over-the-top masterpiece of embarrassment—showered with rose petals, two giant heart-shaped cushions plopped right in the center, their shiny fabric catching the flicker of scented candles placed in all four corners.

A bowl of floating flowers, with pink petals lazily swirling on water, sat on the side table next to a bottle of grape juice and two mismatched glasses. The heady scent of jasmine and rose mingled with the smoky undertone of candles that had clearly been burning too long. The whole effect was… suffocating.

Arjun stepped inside like he'd walked into a trap. His jaw slackened as he took it all in—the mess, the lights, the cushions, the candles that flickered like they too were laughing at him.

He turned around slowly, his face flushing a shade that matched the curtains—part horror, part pure, unfiltered embarrassment.

"Dad?" His voice cracked slightly as he gestured helplessly at the scene. "What… what is this?"

Subbarao stood proudly at the threshold, arms crossed, grinning like a man who'd just won an award for "Father of the Year."

"What does it look like?" he said with a wink. "Your first night, of course! Tonight is auspicious. Thought we'd surprise you. Romantic, no?"

"Romantic—?" Arjun spluttered. His hands flew up to his head. "You planned this? You decorated the room like this? Without telling me?!"

Subbarao's grin widened. "I wanted to make sure everything was perfect. Come on, don't act like I didn't do you a favor!"

Arjun groaned, frustration bubbling over. He stepped forward and, with exaggerated drama, gave his father a playful uppercut to the shoulder. "Warn people about these things! This causes misunderstandings!" he said, half-laughing, half-ready to die of embarrassment.

Subbarao staggered back, clutching his chest like he'd been struck by lightning, and flopped onto the sofa in the corner with a theatrical "Ayyo, my son has turned into a boxer!"

At that exact moment, Shruti appeared at the top of the stairs. She froze, eyes wide as she took in the sight—the room, the petals, the flickering lights, Arjun looking like he wanted the floor to swallow him, and Subbarao dramatically sprawled like a fallen hero.

Her cheeks turned crimson, her fingers pressing to her lips to hide the nervous smile tugging at them. This… this is something out of a movie! she thought, half in disbelief. Who even does this in real life?

But the absurdity of it all—the father-son antics, the overdone decorations, the sheer awkwardness—made it funny. Really funny. They look like cartoon characters caught red-handed.

And just when she thought it couldn't get more embarrassing, Kiran peeked in from behind the door, along with two of his equally mischievous friends.

Kiran whistled. "Damn, bro! Full-on honeymoon suite vibes!" he teased, barely able to contain his laughter. His friends elbowed each other, grinning ear to ear.

Arjun snapped his head toward them, face blazing. "Kiran, I swear on everything holy—"

But Kiran didn't wait. With a loud laugh, he bolted, grabbing his friends' arms and dragging them down the stairs. "Run for your lives, boys! The groom's gonna kill us!"

Their laughter echoed through the house as they disappeared.

Arjun let out a long-suffering groan and rubbed his face. "God, give me strength. I will kill them tomorrow. One by one."

Subbarao sat up on the sofa, still chuckling, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. "Ah, youth! So easily embarrassed."

Arjun shot him a look. "I'm not embarrassed."

"Oh? Then why is your face redder than those curtains?"

Shruti finally giggled out loud at that, unable to hold it in. The sound was soft, musical, and somehow, it eased the tension in the room. Arjun glanced at her, his irritation ebbing a little at the sight of her genuine laughter.

"I'm sorry about… all this," he said to her quietly, gesturing to the room. "I swear I didn't plan it."

Shruti shook her head, still smiling, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "It's okay… it's funny."

And entered the room.

Their room.

To be continued...