“Go ahead.”
“There are some beauty standards in our world. And they change every couple of years. Right now they lean towards toned women. Ten years ago they were size zero. Twenty years ago they were curvy waists.”
She blinked.
“You said you don’t have body image issues…”
“I don’t.” She cut him off.
“But you still think that I don’t find you beautiful in every form, including the one with a full belly after a dinner that I cooked you.”
“It’s not…” she fidgeted. “Ideal. For a man like you.”
“Define a man like me.”
“You… you deal with models every day. You design clothes for women half my size.”
“And they don’t get this reaction out of me,” he pulled her flush against him, showing her the reaction. Her eyes widened.
“Ritu,” his face fell into her neck. Instead of stiffening, her body loosened. And hence, Nilay laid his mouth in that fragrant crevice of her neck. “You look like winter, but you smell like the rains.”
Her arms came around him. His arms tightened around her.
“A woman half your size does not mean she is beautiful.”
She remained silent.
“I don’t see anything but you.”
She still remained silent.
“The you in all your forms.”
Her face began to pull away.
“Please don’t make me stop,” he pleaded.
Her arms came up and around his shoulders, her face hid in the crook of his neck again. And he embraced her, breathing slowly, syncing their breaths together. He had never heard his heart beat so loud, and so slow.
“What are you doing tomorrow morning, Doctor?”
“Why?”
“I want to show you something.”
“What time?’
“Whenever you wake up and are ready.”
“I have to make lunch.”
“You just hired a cook for 500 rupees a month.”
She chuckled into his shoulder, and he felt the rain on his back as well as on his chest.
13. Saawan Barse Tarse Dil
— NILAY —
