Vikram opened the door.
"Sir, Dadi has sent some snacks for both of you," the staff member said politely.
Vikram stared at him in such a way, it felt as if he was about to fire him on the spot.
Without a word, Vikram took the tray and shut the door behind him.
Tara's eyes wandered across the room and landed on something new.
"When did that get here?" she asked, pointing toward a tall wooden cabinet.
Vikram glanced at it. "It was delivered while we were out earlier today."
"But why?" Tara frowned.
He walked over, gripped the handle, and pulled. The tall cabinet unfolded into a hidden wall-bed.
"Whoa!" Tara's eyes lit up. "That's a bed!"
"Yeah," Vikram said simply.
Tara beamed. "Finally, I'll sleep in peace!"
Vikram raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me? You? Or me? You always end up rolling to my side. And once you're there, you never leave. You even kick me."
Tara gasped. "That's such a lie! I don't do anything like that."
Vikram gave her a look. "You were literally hugging me in your sleep the other day."
She . "I didn't do it on purpose. I must've felt cold or something. It probably happened unconsciously…"
"Oh, so I'm your walking blanket now?"
Tara stared at him.
Vikram blinked, realizing what he had just said, and promptly closed his eyes in regret.
An awkward silence filled the space between them.
To break it, Vikram grabbed the first-aid kit and a pain relief spray. He walked toward her.
Tara lifted her leg. "I'll do it. Just hand me the spray."
"I'll handle it," he said firmly.
Tara hesitated. "I'm scared you'll take care of me now… and give me pain later."
Vikram didn't respond. He gently took her leg and sprayed it, focusing on her wound.
"You'll feel better soon. Just rest."
And with that, he walked out of the room.
---
Later that night, after dinner, Tara settled herself onto the new bed.
"I'm going to sleep like a baby tonight," she said, stretching.
"Same," Vikram replied as he turned off the lights.
Thirty minutes passed.
Neither of them could sleep.
Both kept shifting sides, eyes wide open in the dark.
Tara, giving up, plugged in her earbuds and started watching a K-drama on her phone.
"Baek Sa Eon is such a good husband," she whispered dreamily. "He protects her so much without even saying anything…"
From across the room, Vikram groaned internally.
"Here we go again. Every man in the world is better—except her own husband. Unbelievable."
Tara kept going. "And he's so handsome…"
"If I had the power," Vikram thought bitterly, "I'd deport every Korean actor just to give husbands some peace of mind."
"Tara," he finally said aloud. "Go to sleep. Turn that thing off."
But she couldn't hear him—her earbuds were still in.
Vikram's patience snapped. He walked toward her bed, aiming to grab her phone. But in the pitch-dark room, unfamiliar with the new layout, he tripped—right onto her.
Tara screamed, "Aaaaahhh!"
"First, stop screaming!" Vikram snapped, sprawled over her.
"What are you doing?!"
He pulled out one of her earbuds. "Still shouting? Just go to sleep, Tara. Otherwise, you'll wake up late again, and Dadi will discover the secret bed. Then she'll kick you out of this room!"
"Then get off me first!" Tara yelled.
"I'm getting up! And for the record, I'm not interested in you!" he declared while snatching her phone.
"What? Why did you take my phone?" Tara sat up, glaring.
"Because I know you'll start watching again," Vikram said, placing it away. "Now sleep."
She lunged forward to grab her phone, but in the chaos, she stumbled—this time landing directly on him.
Their faces were close.
Their breathing, uneven.
Vikram heart pounding. Slowly, he leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.
Then he carefully shifted her aside, placed her on the bed, and quietly lay down on his own.
Tara, touching her cheek in shock: "Did he just kiss me? But why would he do that? Or… did I imagine it? No. No, go to sleep, Tara. You're overthinking again."
Still confused, she fell asleep.
---
Around 3 AM, Tara stirred awake. She got up, drank some water, and instead of returning to her own bed… she walked over and curled up beside Vikram.
Ten minutes later:
"Seriously? Not again..." Vikram muttered as he felt something land heavily on him.
It was her leg.
"I've heard love hurts," he thought sarcastically, "but this is ridiculous. Every part of me is in pain."
He turned toward her, brushing her hair gently from her face.
Then she shifted again—this time hugging him tightly in her sleep, having once again abandoned her blanket.
---
The next morning, Vikram woke up and smiled.
Tara was still sleeping, arms and legs wrapped around him like he was her favorite pillow.
He gently untangled himself, moved her limbs aside, and went to get ready.
He was standing in front of the mirror, buttoning his shirt, when Tara finally opened her eyes.
She needed a full five minutes to process her surroundings.
"Why am I in this bed? And under Vikram sir's blanket? Wait… my blanket's still on my own bed!"
Vikram caught her puzzled expression in the mirror and smiled before walking out without saying a word.
Tara remained frozen. "What… just happened last night?"
---
Later, after freshening up, she joined Dadi at the breakfast table.
"Tara," Dadi said warmly, "I have a lovely yellow saree. I think it'll look beautiful on you. Would you like to try it?"
"Really?" Tara's eyes sparkled. "I'd love to, Dadi!"
A few minutes later, she came out wearing the saree.
Dadi beamed. "You look stunning, beta. Keep it on—you glow in this color."
Tara smiled shyly and spent the rest of the day looking through Dadi's saree collection with childlike excitement.
---
That evening, she returned to the room and fell asleep wearing the same saree.
Later, Vikram walked in.
And just like always—he paused.
There she was, asleep, looking soft and serene.
"She's so beautiful," he thought. "And again… dropped the blanket."
He picked it up and gently covered her.
Then he changed into his nightwear and began working on his laptop.
At around 9 PM, Tara stirred and sat up without realizing he was still in the room.
As she moved, her saree's pallu slipped off.
She looked over—and found Vikram staring, sitting just beside her.
Frozen, she quickly clutched her saree, realizing how exposed she was.
Vikram noticed instantly. He averted his eyes, picked up her pallu, and gently placed it over her shoulders—shielding her silently.
Without saying anything, he walked out of the room.
Tara sat still for a long moment.
And for the first time, she truly felt it—
"Maybe… with this man, I really am safe."
---