Unexpected cuddle

Shruti's POV

Shruti stirred, her mind slow to wake, lulled by warmth that felt too perfect to be her pillow. Something solid, something alive, cradled her against it. The soft rhythm of breathing echoed faintly against her ear.

What—?

Her eyelids fluttered open, blinking against the muted glow of afternoon light filtering through the curtains. And that's when she saw it—him.

Arjun.

His face was inches from hers. His arms wrapped around her without any space left between them, as if shielding her from the world. The rise and fall of his chest was steady, his expression peaceful—so peaceful it stole her breath. His long lashes cast delicate shadows on his cheeks. His features softened in sleep, free of the usual guardedness she'd seen on his face. He looked… younger. Almost boyish. Almost heartbreakingly innocent.

Her heart leapt to her throat.

I'm cuddling with Arjun. How? When? How did this happen?!

Her mind raced to remember—she'd fallen asleep during the movie. She'd leaned on his shoulder. But how did that become this? When had she curled into him so completely, as if she'd done it a hundred times before?

Oh god. Our bodies are touching. His arms are around me. We're tangled together like—like we belong this way.

She should have pulled back right then. She should have untangled herself, sat up, laughed it off, blamed the nap, done anything but what she did next.

Because she didn't move.

She stayed.

Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her fingertips. But instead of pulling away, she found herself inching closer—pressing her face lightly into the soft fabric of his t-shirt, letting the warmth of him sink into her skin. Her hands clutched at his shirt before she could stop them. The faint, clean scent of his body wash, mixed with something uniquely him, filled her nose.

Why am I doing this? she thought desperately. Why can't I let go? Why does this feel… right?

The world outside their little bubble didn't exist. It was just the steady beat of his heart, the comfort of his warmth, the strange safety of his arms.

This wasn't part of the plan, her mind protested weakly. I was supposed to keep this marriage as formality. Just duty. Just gratitude. Not… not this.

But her heart wasn't listening.

He feels like a giant teddy bear, she thought with a mix of wonder and dread. A very warm, dangerously charming teddy bear who doesn't even know what he's doing to me.

Her fingers smoothed the crease in his shirt almost without thinking, her thumb brushing over the soft cotton like she could memorize it.

I should move.

But she didn't.

Maybe just a little longer.

Her cheek rested lightly against his chest now, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat. The same heartbeat that was beginning to match hers, or so it felt.

Outside, the sounds of the afternoon filtered faintly through the windows—the distant call of a street vendor, the soft rustle of leaves in the sea breeze—but inside, time seemed to pause.

Arjun shifted slightly in his sleep, his arms instinctively tightening around her for a second as if to keep her close. The gesture sent a shiver through her.

You're wrecking my heart, you lighthouse. You don't even know it.

She closed her eyes again, feeling strangely at peace.

Just a little longer, she promised herself, and then I'll move. I'll stop being foolish.

But deep down, she already knew—this was the beginning of something she wouldn't be able to stop.

---

Author's POV

7:00 PM.

The evening had painted the sky in soft hues of orange and purple. The salty breeze from the coast whispered through the half-open windows as Arjun's father stepped inside, closing the main door gently behind him. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion from the long day.

Finally home, he thought, loosening the collar of his shirt. Maybe I can catch them having tea together or something.

He paused, ears straining.

Why is it so quiet?

No clinking of cups. No low chatter. No TV murmuring in the background. Just the soft hum of the ceiling fan.

He set his office bag down carefully, his curiosity getting the better of him as he walked toward the living room. His shoes made the faintest creak on the floor tiles.

And then he stopped.

Right there, bathed in the mellow evening light spilling through the curtains, lay Arjun and Shruti.

Shruti, curled up with her head against Arjun's chest, her hand clutching the fabric of his shirt as if in a dream. Arjun's arm draped protectively around her, his head tilted slightly as he slept, his face peaceful in a way his father hadn't seen in years.

The sight froze him.

His lips parted slightly in surprise, but soon a slow, proud smile spread across his face. His eyes softened.

When did this happen? he thought, heart swelling. Yesterday they couldn't even meet each other's eyes without looking away, and now…

He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head fondly. My son. Always full of surprises.

Not wanting to ruin the moment, he began to tiptoe toward his room, stepping as carefully as a cat. His fingers gripped the edge of the door as he slipped inside, relief washing over him.

And then—

SLAM!

The door shut behind him with a loud thud, thanks to the breeze that decided to betray him at the last second.

His eyes widened in horror. He slapped his forehead with a groan.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, wincing. "I always ruin these moments. Why can't I just have one smooth exit?"

He stood there for a second, listening. Please don't let them wake up. Please don't let them wake up.

He sighed, shoulders slumping. Next time, Subbarao. Next time, learn to close doors like a normal person.

---

Their eyes fluttered open at the same time.

For a heartbeat, they stayed perfectly still—both caught in that hazy, fragile space between sleep and wakefulness. And then, like a silent wave crashing over them, realization hit.

To be continued...