Anisha dashed to the washing machine, bent down, and frantically began scooping up her scattered lingerie.
But in her absolute haste, a tiny pink lace piece accidentally slipped from her fingers and fell right at Rahul's feet. Anisha lunged to pick it up, but in her panic, she lost her grip on the other items, and several more pieces cascaded back onto the floor.
This scene made Anisha so profoundly embarrassed that she simply squatted on the ground, burying her face in her hands, not daring to lift her head.
Who would have thought that Anisha, who looked so shy and conservative on the outside, harbored such a bold style in her heart?
Acting on pure gentlemanly principles, Rahul squatted down, carefully picked up the scattered pieces from the floor, and held them out to her.
Anisha hesitated for a long second, her fingers trembling as she took them. Without a word, she turned around, sprinted out of the laundry room, and dove into her own bedroom.
Watching her retreating figure as she jogged away, Rahul couldn't help but smile and shake his head. He opened the other washing machine and tossed his own dirty clothes inside.
At this moment, Anisha was leaning against the back of her bedroom door, clutching the bundle of lingerie to her chest, her face burning with shame and indignation. She felt as if her heart was about to jump out of her chest.
How could it be so embarrassing? He saw everything!
She didn't even normally wear such bold styles; she had specifically bought them because she knew she was going to see Rahul that day. She wanted to present herself in a perfect, flawless state from head to toe. She had bought the most daring sets from the mall, and before she even had a chance to wear them, this disaster happened.
What will Rahul think of me now?
Anisha walked quickly to her wardrobe and shoved the clothes deep inside. Just then, a rhythmic knock sounded at the door.
"Anisha? Sorry to bother you, but do you have a fresh bath towel? I want to take a quick shower."
Hearing Rahul's voice, Anisha took a deep breath, trying to clear the wild, racing thoughts from her mind. She walked over and pulled the door open.
She saw Rahul standing there, holding a set of clean clothes. Seeing Anisha, whose face was still as red as a ripe peach, Rahul gave her a bright, reassuring smile.
"I'm just going to wash up. Do you have a towel handy?"
"Yes... I'll go get it for you."
Anisha's voice was barely a whisper. She kept her head down, not daring to look at him, and sidled out of the room. She grabbed a soft cotton towel from the linen closet, handed it to Rahul, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke up:
"Rahul... give me your dirty clothes. I'll... I'll wash them for you."
Rahul wasn't shy about it. He took the towel and nodded. "Thanks, I appreciate it."
The main reason Rahul agreed so readily was that he hadn't forgotten his "mission." He needed to farm Charm Points from the System as soon as possible! That meant reaching "ambiguous conditions" with Anisha. As for anything beyond that, Rahul swore to heaven he was being a perfect gentleman—mostly.
Entering the guest bathroom, Rahul quickly undressed, opened the door a crack, and handed out his pile of dirty clothes.
Anisha, the blush still lingering on her cheeks, took the clothes. As she reached out, she caught a glimpse of Rahul's fair, toned arm with prominent veins, and her heart rate accelerated again for no reason.
As the bathroom door clicked shut, Anisha noticed something: she didn't have Rahul's undergarments in the pile. She opened her mouth to ask, but ultimately couldn't find the courage.
She paused her own load, threw his clothes in, and then sat on the living room sofa with her legs pulled up to her chest. Listening to the muffled sound of running water from the guest bathroom, Anisha's mind was a chaotic mess.
She knew her sister had gone out late last night; she wouldn't believe for a second that nothing had happened between Anika and Rahul. It wasn't like Anika couldn't tell that she liked him, too. Although she and her twin had shared everything since they were children... how could they possibly share this?
Suddenly, the water in the bathroom stopped, and Anisha's thoughts paused along with it.
Just then, she thought of her father. Bangladesh practiced polygamy; her father had three other wives besides her mother. In her culture, if she and her sister were with Rahul at the same time, it wouldn't be seen as scandalous—it would be a tradition.
As the thought surfaced, Anisha bit her lip.
Rahul was just so... outstanding. It was the first time she had seen a guy this handsome in real life. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about him since the first moment she saw him at the mall. Her sister was right: If you don't do something crazy now, you'll be old and full of regrets. Rahul wasn't staying in Dhaka forever; if she missed this chance, she'd regret it for the rest of her life.
Rahul, completely unaware of the internal cultural debate happening on the sofa, finished his shower, washed his own undergarments by hand, changed into fresh clothes, and stepped out.
Hearing movement, Anisha immediately stood up. Seeing a damp, fresh-looking Rahul emerge, she hurried to her own bathroom and brought out a hairdryer.
"Rahul, sit down. Let me dry your hair for you."
"Oh, you don't have to do that."
"Please," she insisted softly.
Rahul sat on the sofa, and Anisha stood behind him, carefully drying his hair. Touching the soft, dark locks, Anisha's mind wandered again. She was incredibly gentle, her movements cautious, as if afraid she might break a single strand.
Just as his hair was almost dry, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the flat. Anika walked in, struggling with several heavy grocery bags.
Seeing this, Rahul immediately jumped up and walked over like a gentleman to take the heavy loads from her. Anika looked at Rahul, then at her sister holding the hairdryer, and immediately flashed her an "I see you" look.
"Wow, Rahul, you move fast. Already showered and being pampered?" Anika teased.
Before Rahul could explain, Anisha's voice went up an octave. "No! It's not what you think!"
"Oh? Not what?" Anika smirked playfully.
This made Anisha look like she wanted to melt into the floorboards.
"Alright Anika, stop teasing her," Rahul cut in at the critical moment. "Go and rest. I'm taking over the kitchen tonight. I'll make dinner."
Anika stared at him in pure disbelief. "You... you can cook?"
"Why? Is that a crime?" Rahul asked with a grin.
"It's very strange!" Anika laughed. "In Bangladesh, the kitchen is a woman's domain. Men almost never interfere. People here believe that cooking is a woman's sacred mission!"
Anisha put down the hairdryer and walked over, nodding in agreement.
Rahul picked up the grocery bags, walked into the sleek, open-plan kitchen, and turned back to the twins.
"We don't have that saying in India," Rahul said smoothly. "In my country, maybe not 100%, but a huge portion of men know their way around a kitchen. And honestly? Some of the best cooks I know are guys. At my home, my dad is the one who handles the big Sunday meals."
Hearing this, Anika and Anisha looked at each other, both seeing the same realization in each other's eyes: They had found a literal treasure.
Indian men, when placed in a culture where gender roles were so rigid, were a "Dimensional Strike"—a superior romantic force.
Rahul, unaware that he had just become the "ideal partner" in their minds, glanced at the ingredients and waved them away.
"Go, sit. Relax. I'll whip up some Indian dishes for you to try. They might be a bit different from what you're used to, but it's the only way I can properly thank you for taking me in."
Expert Guide Follow-up:
Rahul is about to showcase his skills in the kitchen—a major "green flag" in the sisters' eyes. Should we focus the next part on Rahul teaching Anisha how to cook (creating some close physical proximity), or should we have Samina or Anjali call his phone while he's in the middle of preparing the meal, heightening the tension?