The laughter, the music, the distant clinking of cutlery — everything faded as the newlyweds reached the quiet sanctuary of their room.
Ira paused at the door.
Daniel noticed the way she clutched her dupatta. "Tired?" he asked gently, though he already knew the answer went beyond exhaustion.
She gave a shy nod. "A little… overwhelmed."
He smiled. "We can just sleep. Really. No expectations."
She turned to look at him, searching his eyes. "I know."
The room was dim, lit only by a few scattered fairy lights left behind from the decorators. It cast a warm glow over the space — their space now.
Daniel slowly removed his sherwani coat and placed it neatly over the chair. Ira sat on the edge of the bed, fingers tracing the embroidery on her lehenga as if stalling.
He came to sit beside her, close — but not too close.
"Ira…"
She looked at him.
"You don't have to pretend to be okay. If you're nervous, tell me. If you want to wait, say so."
She let out a breath. "It's not that I don't want to… I'm just… it's my first time."
Daniel didn't react with surprise or smugness. He only smiled softly. "Then we'll take it slow. Or not at all. Whatever makes you feel safe."
Her hand found his, fingers trembling slightly.
"I do want to," she whispered. "Just… maybe hold me first?"
So he did.
They lay side by side, fully clothed at first, just breathing together. Letting their hearts sync. His hand moved to gently brush her hair behind her ear, his lips kissed her temple. Her arms wrapped around him a little tighter. Time melted in that embrace.
When clothes were finally loosened and silence settled into soft whispers, it wasn't a rush. It was a quiet, tender unfolding — two people discovering each other for the first time not just in body, but in complete trust.
It wasn't perfect. There were giggles, a few awkward moments, a pause or two where Ira winced and Daniel stopped immediately.
"Sorry!" he whispered.
"No… don't stop. Just… be gentle."
He was. And in the end, as they lay tangled in sheets and warmth, her head on his chest, they were both breathless — not from exhaustion, but from the feeling of becoming one.
---
After
"I think I broke," Ira mumbled, face buried in his chest.
Daniel laughed. "You're alive. Barely."
"Everything hurts. How do people do this and then go back to work the next day?"
He chuckled again. "They must have stronger backs than us."
They lay in silence for a while.
Then Ira asked, "Would you want a baby soon?"
Daniel blinked. "Whoa. Already planning future teammates?"
She playfully smacked his arm. "I mean… eventually."
He smiled. "Yeah. I'd love to. Boy or girl?"
"Girl," Ira said dreamily. "With your eyes and my attitude."
Daniel raised a brow. "Dangerous combination."
"And you?"
"Boy. With your kindness and my stubbornness."
"Or worse," she said, laughing, "my stubbornness and your sarcasm."
They both laughed, soft and sleepy, their laughter dissolving into kisses, then into stillness.
Wrapped in each other's arms, they drifted off to sleep — not just as husband and wife, but as two best friends who had just begun a lifetime of dreams, awkward moments, soft laughter, and deep love.