Mihir dragged a hand down his face, the black veins pulsing at his temples. "I mean I don't want the family to see me turn into a monster."
Maira crossed her arms. "If you care about them so much, then *return home* with me."
"I can't." His voice cracked. "Being there means putting them in danger. I can feel the darkness pulling me under."
"And if you're *with* the family," she countered, "then *we* can pull you back."
*"No."* He turned away. *"I won't risk it."*
Maira sighed dramatically, scanning the room. *"Fine. Don't return home."*
*"...What are you doing?"*
*"Looking for the kitchen. I'm *starved*. Hope there's food, since *we're* both staying here."*
Mihir spun back, eyes wide. *"Excuse me? What do you mean *we*-?"*
*"If you won't go home,"* she said, plopping onto the couch, *"then I'm staying. Simple."*
Mihir stared at her back, his resistance crumbling faster than his abandoned toast that morning. The darkness had no counter for *this* kind of stubborn.
Mihir's hands clenched. *"No, you can't. You'll be endangering yourself. You don't know what I'm capable of."*
Maira pressed a knife to his neck, smiling. *"And you don't know what I'm capable of either. I'm not some typical wife-I'm Reevavanshi."* She withdrew the blade. *"I don't fear danger. A girl who can come to your house hanging over a river isn't weak."*
*"Exactly how *did* you get in here?"* Mihir demanded.
*"The Lord helped."* She smacked his arm. *"Who builds a house without a path? *Rude*."*
*"PA, I didn't build this for family vacations!"* Mihir rubbed his stinging bicep. *"It's my private house. I used to come here as a kid when I was feeling down."* He turned away, muttering, *"You can't stay here."*
Maira smirked. *"Are you scared you might lose yourself to this beauty? Then we'll raise our children in this house."*
*"You're kidding. It's not funny."*
*"I'm kidding,"* Maira conceded, then pointed to the kitchen. *"But I'm also hungry. First, find food for me. Then we can discuss. Or... do you not have any food?"*
*"Hello? I'm human too! I eat food, I don't drink blood!"* Mihir stormed toward the kitchen.
Maira smiled to herself. *"At least you admitted you're human. And humans need their family."*
Mihir slammed a plate of hastily assembled food-eggs, toast,samosas-onto the table near the kitchen counter. *"Here. Eat."*
Maira beamed. *"Aw, you *do* care."* She immediately grabbed a piece of toast with one hand and a forkful of eggs with the other, stuffing both into her mouth at once.
Mihir's eye twitched. *"Were you raised in a barn?"*
*"Mmmf!"* Maira pointed at her full cheeks, chewing exaggeratedly before swallowing. *"Starving wife here. Also-"* She stole his untouched coffee. *"-thanks."*
*"That's *my-*"* He pinched the bridge of his nose. *"You're *insufferable*."*
Maira took a loud, deliberate sip, maintaining full eye contact. *"Yet here you are. Suffering."*
Maira paused mid-bite, egg suspended on her fork. *"...You can *cook*?"* She gestured at the perfectly runny yolk. *"This isn't just edible-it's *good*."*
Mihir crossed his arms, but his shoulders relaxed a fraction. *"Rockstars have hidden depths, PA."*
She swallowed, then wiped her mouth with deliberate slowness. The words came softly, almost shy:
*"The man who writes songs with fire,
Quiets storms with whispered wire.
Who knew the hands that break guitar strings,
Could coax such grace from simple things?"*
A beat. Mihir's ears turned pink.
*"Shut up,"* he muttered, snatching the empty plate.
Mihir leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed as he watched Maira wolf down her third samosa. "You should control these eating habits," he grumbled. "Wouldn't want *our kid* picking this up."
A chunk of samosa froze halfway to Maira's mouth.
Mihir's spine straightened like he'd been electrocuted.
*Crash.*
The samosa slipped from Maira's fingers onto the plate. "*Our* kid?" Her voice came out strangled. "Did the great Mihir Kashyap just imply-?"
"Slip of the tongue!" His hands flew up in defense. "Meant *a* kid. Any random kid. Not-" He gestured wildly between them. "*This.*"
Maira's shock melted into a slow, wicked grin. She wiped her hands deliberately. "Aw. Is someone imagining domestic bliss? Mini rockstars running around?"
"More like mini nightmares with your attitude." But his usual bite was missing.
An awkward pause stretched. Mihir suddenly found the ceiling fascinating. Maira became very interested in rearranging her empty plates.
The air conditioner hummed too loudly.
"Anyway." Mihir pushed off the counter with too much force. "I'm going to... check something. Elsewhere."
Maira waited until he was almost at the door. "Their first word should be 'papa,' don't you think?"
A dishcloth came flying at her head.
Maira's laughter echoed through the kitchen-bright and sudden-before cutting off abruptly.
*Wait.*
Her smile faltered. *Why am I laughing? He just said "our kid."*
The realization hit like a bucket of cold water. She stared at her half-eaten samosa
She shoved another bite of samosa into her mouth, chewing with exaggerated focus. *Not thinking about that. Nope.*
Maira found Mihir perched on the ledge, his back to her as he stared at the river below. The sunset painted his silhouette in burnt orange and gold.
"Go home, Maira." His voice was flat.
She sat beside him, close enough that their shadows merged. "Not without you."
Mihir's jaw tightened. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because the family needs you."
"And you?"
Maira focused on the distant horizon. "Forget about me." She forced a lighter tone. "Since we're stuck in this floating death trap, we might as well chat. Tell me about-"
"I don't want to talk."
"-your childhood. Or why you're so angry with Sapna-ma."
Mihir's fingers dug into the ledge. "Emotional blackmail? Not cool."
The river roared beneath them. Maira studied his profile-the way his eyelashes cast shadows when he refused to look at her.
"Fine." She leaned back on her palms. "Then I'll talk. When I was seven, I-"
"*Damn it*, PA." Mihir finally turned, his eyes glinting. "What will it take for you to leave?"
Maira met his gaze without flinching. "The truth."
A muscle jumped in his cheek. The seconds stretched.
Somewhere downstream, a heron took flight.