Day after Karwachauth (ZaynArthit)

The sun was just beginning to rise when Arthit stirred from his sleep, the soft light filtering through the windows of Zayn's apartment. It took him a moment to remember that he wasn't in his own room but had spent the night on Zayn's couch. The wall clock read 7:00 a.m., and faint clattering noises echoed from the kitchen.

Stretching lazily, he made his way toward the sound, still groggy. There, Zayn stood by the stove, focused on cooking. Without a word, Arthit walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around Zayn's waist, resting his head on Zayn's shoulder.

"Good morning, bhaiya..." he mumbled sleepily.

Zayn smiled at the warmth in Arthit's voice. "Good morning, Jaan. How was your sleep last night? Koi problem toh nahi hui na couch pe?" (You didn't have any problems on the couch, right?)

Arthit shook his head, pulling himself closer to Zayn. "Aapki neend kaisi gayi?" (How was your sleep?)

"Hmm, it was good," Zayn replied, turning off the stove. He pulled Arthit to face him, wrapping his arms around him and rocking him gently from side to side.

Arthit raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief in his voice. "Khana jal gaya toh?" (What if the food gets burnt?)

Zayn chuckled. "Nahi jalega. Tumhara college hai na aaj?" (It won't. You have college tiday, right?)

"Haan..." Arthit sighed, resting his head on Zayn's chest. "Woh khadus accountancy professor meri jaan lekar hi maanega..." (Yes... That cranky accountancy professor won't take a breather till he kills me...)

"Kya hua? Homework nahi kiya kya?" Zayn teased, patting Arthit's back. (What happened? Did you not do your homework?)

"Homework kar liya," Arthit grumbled. "That man just hates me. All because some girls keep lurking around me. Ab main ladkiyon ko accha lagta hoon, toh woh kya meri galti hai?" (I did my homework.)(Now if the girls find me attractive, is it my fault?)

Zayn's grip tightened slightly, a possessive edge creeping into his tone. "Un ladkiyon ko bol dena ke tumse door rahen, aur main Raksha Bandhan pe personally tumhare college jakar har ek ladki se tumhe rakhi bandhwaunga. You are mine." (Tell those girls to stay away from you, and I will personally visit your college on Raksha Bandhan to ensure every one of them ties a rakhi on your hand.)

A soft laugh escaped Arthit as he cupped Zayn's cheeks. "Meri aankhen toh bas tumko talashti hai. Toh koi aur mujhe dekhe, isse kya fark padta hai?" (My eyes always search for you. What does it matter if someone else is looking at me?)

Zayn leaned into Arthit's touch, his gaze soft. "But still, you are only mine." He kissed Arthit's palm.

"Sirf tumhara," Arthit replied earnestly. "Iss dil mein kisi aur ka khayal tak aaye, toh isse main nikal ke fenk doon. Yeh sirf aur sirf tumhara hai." (Only yours. If this heart even dares to think about someone else, I'll throw it away myself. This belongs to you and you only.)

Zayn's lips curled into a smile. "Aaj itni romantic baatein kaise nikal rahi hain tumhare muh se?" (Why are you suddenly being such a romantic today?)

Before Arthit could respond, his alarm blared from the living room. He groaned, pulling away reluctantly. "Oh no! College ke liye late ho jaunga! Bhaiya, main aapko saari romantic baatein text kar dunga. Abhi chhodo!" (Oh no! I'll get late for college! Bhaiya, I'll text all the romantic speeches to you. Leave me now!)

Zayn chuckled, placing a quick kiss on Arthit's forehead before letting him go. "Jao, jaake ready ho jao. Main drop kar dunga." (Go, get ready. I'll drop you off.)

Twenty minutes later, Arthit emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed. Zayn handed him a lunchbox.

"Yeh lo, tumhara lunch," Zayn said. "Tumhare ghar jaisa accha nahi hai, but abhi ke liye kaam chala lo. Aur breakfast bhi ready hai." (Here, your lunch. It's not as good as what you would have got from your home, but this will have to do it for now. And breakfast is ready too.)

Arthit took the box and placed it in his bag, pausing. "Ek baat kahoon?" (Can I say something?)

"Haan, bolo," Zayn replied, setting a plate of breakfast on the small dining table. (Yes, say.)

Arthit smiled, his eyes soft. "Tumhara banaya khana ghar se behtar hai... Kyunki tumne mere liye banaya hai. It's special in all the right ways." (The food you make is better than the one I get from home... It's because you made it for me.)

Zayn laughed as he set the plate in front of Arthit. "Thank you for completing my basic cooking skills. Ab breakfast karo. Main ready hokar aata hoon." (Now have your breakfast. I'll go and get ready.)

By the time Zayn returned, Arthit had almost finished his meal.

"Sorry, bhaiya," Arthit said, getting up and placing his plate in the sink. "Main clean-up mein help nahi kar paunga. Abhi nahi nikla toh late ho jaunga." He quickly rinsed his plate and began washing the few other utensils in the sink. (Sorry, bhaiya. I won't be able to help in clean-up today. If I don't leave now, I'll get late.)

"Tum dishes kyun dho rahe ho?" Zayn asked, putting the last bite of his breakfast into his mouth. "Chhodo, main shaam ko aake kar lunga." (Why are you washing the dishes? Leave it, I will wash them after coming home in the evening.)

"Done!" Arthit exclaimed, drying his hands.

"Chalo, main tumhe chhod deta hoon," Zayn said, grabbing his bag and car keys. (Let's go, I will drop you.)

By evening, Arthit returned home, the joy of the morning a distant memory as he entered the house. His steps slowed as his eyes fell on the living room. There she was—his Dadi, sitting on her ornate chair, her cane resting against the side. Arthit's heart sank.

He tried to sneak past her, moving toward the stairs as quietly as he could. But the sharp thud of her cane against the marble floor froze him in place.

"Oye ladke!" Dadi's sharp voice cut through the silence like a whip. "Kahaan jaa raha hai chup-chup ke? Idhar aa!" (Hey boy! Where are you going being so secretive? Come here!)

Arthit clenched his jaw and turned, plastering a smile on his face. "Namaste, Dadi." He walked to her reluctantly and bent down to touch her feet.

Dadi scowled, her keen eyes narrowing as she tapped his back with the cane's rounded end. "Kal raat kidhar tha tu? Ghar pe rehna pasand nahi hai kya? Jab dekho, tab awaron ki tarah ghoomta rehta hai!" (Where were you last night? Do you not like staying at home? Whenever I ask, you are out like a vagabond!)

"Dadi, assignment ke kaam se gaya tha," Arthit replied, his voice calm but laced with nervousness. He took a small step back, out of her cane's reach. "Aur bhaiya ne Mumma ko call bhi kiya tha!" (Dadi, I went to work on an assignment. And bhaiya had even called Mumma to inform about it.)

"Ek toh teri woh maa!" Dadi huffed, her face darkening. "Har cheez ka faisla khud karti hai. Ek baar ghar ke bado se puch le, nahi! Maharani toh sab khud karegi! Kal raat ko bhi wo chokri ko sone bhej diya! Maine bola tha ke mere Ashwin ke aane ka intezaar kare. Bechara aaj subah wapas aaya hai!" (Your mother is a piece of work! She takes all decisions by herself. Will she even consult the elders, no! Queen will do everything by herself! She even sent that girl to sleep! I had told her to wait for Ashwin to come back. My poor child came back this morning!)

Arthit nodded silently, his mind racing for a way to escape. His palms felt clammy as she continued to grumble. Staying too long under her watchful eye meant more trouble, and he couldn't risk losing time—his project, worth 10% of his grade, was still incomplete. She continued rambling about last night, mentioning something about Ashwin and her plans being ignored.

Arthit took the opportunity to inch closer to the stairs, hoping to escape unnoticed.

But Dadi dismissed him herself. "Chal tu aab dafa ho! Main jaake dekhun sab kya kar rehe hai aur kahi uss chokri ne chori chupe apna vrat to nahi khol liya!" (Now get lost. I shall go and see what everyone else is doing and check if that girl has secretly broken her fast.)

As Dadi shuffled to arise from the couch with the help of her cane, Arthit seized his chance. He bolted up the stairs to his room, relieved to escape another lecture.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Guess who is done with his internship?

Yes! That's me!

Enjoy this chapter. If this receives as much love as Divyansh and Ashwin do, I will update the next chapter soon, it is all ready.

One more thing! Priya and I are siblings from different mothers. Please don't ship us together, it feels gross.

Enjoy, Adiraj and Priya.