Sister in need is a Sister indeed

"It's taking off! It's taking off!" Ishan's voice trembled as he watched the plane taxi down the runway.

His chest heaved with rapid breaths, his skin slick with sweat. A tiny droplet trickled down his forehead, and his eyes closed in fear as his body kept shivering.

Aryan handed Ishan a water bottle, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay?"

Ishan's eyes snapped open, and he glared at Aryan.

"Do I look okay?" Ishan snapped, snatching the water bottle from Aryan.

He gulped down the water in hurried sips, some of it spilling onto his chest and soaking into his blouse. The cool liquid did little to calm his racing heart.

"Do you know how many plane crashes happen in the world?" Ishan asked, his voice trembling as he wiped at his damp shirt.

Aryan raised an eyebrow, unfazed by Ishan's theatrics.

"Well, you're the one who refused to fly on the private jet," he pointed out, his tone tinged with mild exasperation.

"Because I'm not about to die in a fiery explosion alone in some rich man's vanity project,  Commercial flights have better odds of survival!" Ishan exclaimed.

Aryan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?"

Before Ishan could retort, he noticed a woman sitting across from them, giggling into her hand as she stole amused glances in their direction. Both Aryan and Ishan turned toward her at the same time.

Aryan frowned. "Do you know this lady?"

Ishan forced a smile, his cheeks warming with embarrassment.

"It's a long story..." The woman winked at him, and his blush deepened. He quickly looked away, pretending he was suddenly fascinated by the airport carpet.

"Well we only have 13 hours of nothingness", Aryan joked, "Maybe this story can keep us entertained"

Then Ishan recited his ordeal with the woman behind them...

~~~~~~ 2 hours ago in the washroom. ~~~~~

"Do You have spare tampons?"

"Sorry—what?" Ishan blinked, caught off guard by the woman's sudden request.

"Tampons, " she repeated, hopeful and exasperated. "You don't seem like the type to prefer pads over tampons, but if you have pads, I'll take that too. I just used my last one, and I have a thirteen-hour flight ahead of me. I am _not_ going to survive that with just one."

Ishan stared, processing the situation. The woman, about 5'6", exuded effortless posh, like she belonged in first-class lounges sipping wine.

Her sundress, a designer piece in pastel yellow, flowed over her curves, suggesting she'd given up on diets and embraced carbs. She looked _

tired, with a cheeriness that came with an infectious smile and a soul too exhausted to care.

Ishan's gaze flicked to the concealer under her eyes, a peachy undertone to counteract the darkness.

Not bad, but the caking at the edges betrayed a rookie mistake. Ah, he knew this struggle all too well, when he got scolded by one of the best makeup artist in India.

"Fuck me," she sighed dramatically.

Then, with the ease of a woman who had long since stopped caring about public opinion, she pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag.

"Did you know," she exhaled a stream of smoke,

"European airports have free tampons in the bathrooms?" She gestured vaguely. "And here we are, in India, where half the women don’t even know what a tampon is."

Ishan coughed, waving a hand in front of his face as the smoke drifted toward him.

"Are you okay?" he asked, eyeing her warily. "You look a little… uh, tired. You have dark circles under your eyes."

The woman let out a groan.

"I know," she whined. "And I can’t even put on makeup properly!"

Before Ishan could react, she burst into tears. Actual, messy, snot-dripping tears.

‘What the fuck is happening today?’ Ishan thought, frozen in place.

She lunged forward and hugged him, her face smushing against his shoulder. His heartbeat spiked in alarm. She sniffled, snot close to his blouse. Ishan quickly handed her a tissue from his Chanel bag.

'Here, take it, just—just don’t ruin My favourite saree.. I just bought it last week',

The woman dabbed her nose, hiccuping as she attempted to compose herself.

"You know," she said, voice muffled through the tissue,

"it’s been two years since I had my first child. I love her more than I can even say. But every time my husband and I try to have intimacy, she wakes up. Crying. For me."

"See these dark circles?", She pulled back and dramatically gestured at her own reflection in the mirror., "This is the face of a woman who hasn’t had uninterrupted sex in two years."

Ishan choked on his own spit.

"So when my husband planned a week-long vacation in Europe, I thought, finally! A chance to rekindle our romance! and finally Ride that pole again",

She rubbed her forehead, "But now I'm stuck with just one tampon, a 13-hour flight, and a husband who thinks two years of celibacy has turned me into a feral beast."

"You see this?" The woman suddenly pulled out two sleek, iridescent bottles from her tote bag.

The labels were in an elegant, cursive font, the kind that made everything seem classier than it actually was.

"Eclipse Midnight Glide: A Journey into the Unknown," one read. The other was even worse. "Velvet Temptation: Forbidden Oasis."

"Are those—?",  Ishan shocked at woman's sharing the intimate details with a random stranger. "Lube??"

"Lube," she confirmed solemnly. "Very expensive lube. My friend gifted these as a wedding anniversary present, and I thought, finally, we'd spice things up... even try the backdoor,"

"Now our only option is the backdoor...", The woman burst into tears again.  " and I'm not even prepared."

Ishan, who had absolutely no experience in this department, panicked.

"Uh—uh, you know, my husband and I have tried period sex…" he blurted, feigning a tone of wisdom.

She sniffled and looked at him curiously. "Yeah? And?"

"It’s not that bad!" he continued, putting on his best ‘experienced lover’ voice. "Just, uh… make sure you wear protection! And, um… Ibuprofen! It helps with cramps!"

"And, uh… leafy greens! Yeah, eat lots of leafy greens! Helps with the flow," he added confidently.

"You think so?"

He nodded controlling his laughter, surprised at his own wisdom, he thought

‘Damn, those late-night studies of women’s anatomy and youtube videos on Period health actually came in handy.'

"Wait, your makeup…" Ishan clicked his tongue. "Let me fix that."

He unzipped his Chanel bag pulled out a color corrector and began expertly concealing her dark circles.

"First, we use this to neutralize the blue and purple tones. A lot of people go straight for concealer, but that just makes it look ashy."

The woman watched, fascinated, as he blended it in smooth, patting motions.

"Now, a thin layer of concealer—too much and it creases." He picked up his sponge and dabbed lightly. "Press, don’t rub. Press."

With a few swift strokes, he applied a peach-toned corrector to counteract the bluish undertones, blending it seamlessly into her skin. Next, he layered a lightweight concealer, carefully patting it into place with his ring finger. Finally, he set the concealer with a dusting of translucent powder.

When he finished, he asked the woman to open her eyes. She gasped, incredulous. The dark circles had vanished, and she looked at least five years younger.

"Thank you!" She hugged Ishan again, this time with a warm smile.

As they parted, she handed him one of the "Sensual Bliss" lube bottles. "You're a saviour... take this."

But this time, Ishan—perhaps enchanted by his own brilliance—actually hugged back.

She pulled away, grinning. "You are a savior."

Then, without warning, she shoved one of the

"Eclipse Midnight Glide" lube bottles into his hands., "Take this as token of gratitude"

"Uh, sorry, I can’t take this." He held it out awkwardly.

"Oh, don’t worry!" She winked. "Customs people don’t mind these things."

"That’s not the—"

"And besides," she smirked, "you should also experience some backdoor action, don’t you think?"

‘The only action I can have is backdoor action, woman—Wait. NO. NO HOMO THOUGHTS. ABORT, ABORT.’, thought to himself.

He quickly cleared his throat, shoved the bottle into his bag and forced a tight smile.

"Uh… thanks for your generous gift."

The woman beamed. "You’re welcome."

And with that, Ishan grabbed his bag, took one last glance at the cursed lube, and marched out of the restroom, questioning all of his life choices.

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"So do you still have it, ", Aryan asked curiously, "the lube I mean"

Ishan opened his bag zip slightly and showed it Aryan whose eyes showed glint of surprise.

"Is that Eclipse midnight glide?", Aryan enquired, Ishan suddenly raised his eyebrows.

"Have you used it before?", He said his tone betrayed a hint of jealousy.

"I might have ...", Aryan said awkwardly he tried teasing his pretend wife, " Didnt Natasha tell you we were freaky in bed"

"Dont bring up that bitch again", Ishan said annoyed.

"You know you should keep this in your bag", Aryan said.

"Why? Do you plan to put some dildo in you ass?", Ishan shot back in anger.

"No... I am just saying that there is No one looking at it all the time so you could finally go back to being a guy for sometimes ", Aryan continued saying,

"And we will finally have a chance to get some action... With other women you know.."

"Yeah.. sure.", Ishan just nodded, he felt a sudden jealousy and sadness hit his heart..

................100 days, 265 days to go..............

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Something brewing inside Ishan's heart that he still can not understand... And Aryan, is he really that nonchalant about the emotions building up inside his own heart or he just trying to hide it

Will this fake honeymoon turn into a real one?...Keep reading to find out more....

And Dont forget to Vote and comment your faviourite parts.