The afternoon sunlight bathed Hiten's living room, the soft glow falling on the makeshift dance floor where two pairs of shoes lay discarded. Aarya stretched gracefully, while Hiten stood stiff like a soldier about to face his doom.
"Left foot, right foot. Simple. Easy. People do this every day," he mumbled under his breath, psyching himself up.
Aarya giggled, grabbing his hand. "It's dancing, not a battlefield."
"Battlefield?!" Hiten widened his eyes. "This is worse. At least soldiers get training. I have two left feet!"
She laughed, tugging him gently into the first step. "Relax. Just trust me. We'll figure this out."
The first attempt was chaos. Hiten turned when he should have stepped, stepped when he should have spun, and at one point almost body-slammed the sofa. Aarya had to dodge like an acrobat, doubling over in laughter.
"Hiten!" she gasped between giggles. "You're going to destroy your living room before the performance!"
"Hey," he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, "I'm just… stress-testing the furniture. You're welcome."
They tried again. Step. Step. Spin—except Hiten's foot came down right on Aarya's.
She yelped and hopped back, clutching her toe. "Ow!"
Panic rushed through Hiten's face. He dropped to his knees, hands trembling as he gently lifted her foot onto his lap. "Oh no! Your toe! I'm so sorry, Aarya!"
She smiled through the wince. "It's fine, really—"
"No," Hiten cut her off, his voice unusually sharp and emotional. "It's not fine. You're totally mine, from your toe's nail to your head. I can't see you in pain. Not even for a second."
The room went still. Aarya blinked, warmth flooding her chest as his words sank in.
"Hiten…" she whispered, cheeks turning pink.
He pressed an ice pack against her toe, eyes never leaving hers. "Every part of you matters to me. If you're hurting, I feel it twice as much."
Her heart ached in the best way. She leaned forward and hugged him tightly, her voice soft against his shoulder. "I'm so lucky to have you."
Hiten froze, then slowly wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her hair. For once, his dramatics were gone—only sincerity remained.
When they pulled apart, she smiled with watery eyes. "You're such an idiot sometimes… but you're my idiot."
He chuckled, blushing. "Yeah. An idiot who almost killed your toe."
They both laughed, the tension easing, but something deeper had taken root in that moment—a bond strengthened not by the perfect dance, but by the stumbles along the way.