fuck love

Sameer knew something was off the second he had called Nikita; the banter they shared was gone, her voice had been stilted, their conversation had been shrouded in something he couldn't recognize. He let it pass, assuming that it was probably the stress from college. He forgot sometimes that they weren't the same age, and she wasn't about to graduate like he was, that her academic career had merely just taken off. He was in awe of the amount of things that slipped his mind, he mused as he checked out of the hospital, swiping his card. That story everyone said about how the entire human population looked horrible in ID photos of any sort : total lie, at least when it came to Sameer. Running a hand through his hair, his bag slung on his shoulder, he slid into his car, tossing the bag into the passenger seat as he started the car up. These days there would be a smile on his face without him even realizing because he was always thinking of Nikita, she always made him smile, everything she did filled him to the brim with this sort of happiness he didn't know he could feel - the sort of happiness he thought only existed in films, or in those cliche songs that Nikita loved blasting at full volume just to annoy him. He made his way to his door, about to use his key before choosing to ring the doorbell. "Honey, I'm hoomee," he drawled out, his voice carrying through the wooden barrier of the door.

Nikita 's hand froze on the door knob and she had to lean against the door for a while, all her resolve breaking in a second. How the hell was she going to do this? How did anyone separate a part of themselves? "Aayi," she whispered when she heard him call out for her again and laughed to herself because when did they get so fucking domestic? When did she get used to this? She opened the door and quickly turned around but he pulled her back easily and she gave up then, giving in to his embrace. She was only human after all. Why couldn't she be selfish? Because that meant ruining his life. Damning her conscience to the lowest level of hell, she pulled away with a small smile, pushing him towards the bedroom. "Go change," she said softly, pulling away. "I'll get dinner ready." She was losing it. And that too, fast. She could feel it in her veins.

Sameer frowned at the immediate loss of warmth and tried not to let the disappointment show on his face, as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossing it on the floor right outside their bedroom, slipping out of his jeans, leaving a trail of his clothes to the doorstep of the bathroom. Taking a quick shower as he let the cold beads of sweat mingle with the heated vapor of the shower, running his hands through his wet hair. He felt this sink in his gut, tugging at his heart strings, telling him something was about to go awry, awfully wrong. He pushed the negativity away, passing it off as the lingering effects of working amongst cadavers. Wrapping the towel around his waist, letting it ride low, he bent down and scrimmaged through his wardrobe in an attempt to find something to wear. A pair of clean boxers and a plain white tee later, he stepped back outside. "Smells good," he murmured in assent, collapsing on the couch, not at all surprised to see his clothes having disappeared from the floor and a small smile made its way onto his face.

Nikita could never figure out why the idiot couldn't just pick up his damn clothing and put it inot the laundry basket, and really, it wasn't as though she was his maid or anything, she was his girlf-- There she went again. It was hard to resist that. Hard to resist the safety of his comfort. Nandini's words rang in her ear again and she shook her head, quickly rolling the clothes into the basket before quickly heading back out. "Dinner," she reminded him, having only set one plate for him. She had no appetite left, the unease churning in her stomach like the storm inside her heart. She headed towards with her laptop in hand but then quickly stopped, seeing Sameer there. His proximity made her want to give up but she knew she would only end up hating herself more and sunk to the floor in front of the couch instead, going through her assigned readings. She would just tell him she had too much work, she decided. She needed to avoid him, avoid letting him find out because he could always read her as though she was an open book.

Sameer pouted at her back. "You feeling okay?" He asked softly, concern painting his tone. When he received no reply, he decided that he'd let her focus on her work. Pressing a kiss to her hair, he made his way to the dining table to eat. He couldn't hide his surprise at the single plate on the table but still said nothing, only managing to stomach a few bites before pushing the plate away, the foreboding have eaten his appetite. It was ironic that the one time his fiance made the perfect tasting dish, everything felt like it was balanced on glass, or perhaps a house of cards. Maybe their relationship could be summed up in that analogy: a house of cards. Beautiful to look at, painstakingly beautiful, but any small movement could tear it apart.

Nikita had been reading the same line for what was probably the fourth time? The fifth time? Her attention was clearly taken up by Sameer because she knew even without looking that he had not finished his dinner. And he had barely eaten lunch either. But no, she stopped herself. She couldn't do that to him, to herself. He was addicted to her and she needed to weane him off his addiction. She got up to put the pot back into the fridge but then felt herself being tugged back by the very edges of her fingers. "Sorry... it's just... school." That was all she could manage with a shaky smile, not daring to look up at him. "You head to bed first. I need to wrap up work." Quickly glancing up to offer him what she could only hope was asincere smile, she let go of his hand, going back to cleaning the kitchen. She wanted it as clean as possible because Sameer was a slob and she knew he wouldn't clean up after she left.

Sameer seemed to accept her excuse readily enough and pulled her back for a last kiss. "Don't work too hard okay? I don't like sleeping in a cold bed," he teased before making his way back inside the bedroom. Although initially the foreboding and the worry and his intuition had prevented him from even closing his eyes, they started to droop out of their own accord as he curled under the quilt, letting himself fall asleep, his palm resting flat on Nikita's pillow.

Nikita took a deep breath, zipping up her duffel bag. She hadn't realised how many things she had brought over, even if they had only stayed together for a week or so. She already had clothes over at his place. Her clothes were everywhere, just like his were. She tried to lift up the bag but gave up immediately. Deciding to shove it along the path, she pushed it with her foot towards the door but then retreated back again, finding some other excuse to stay. Hoping foolishly that Sameer would wake up and confront her so that he would stop her. And then. And then what? Did she want to be labelled as someone reponsible for breaking up a family? Panic immediately rose in her at that thought and she shook her head quickly, even though she was in complete darkness. She switched on the kitchen light and quickly scribbled down the final version of the note she had constructed, not daring to leave it on his bedside for the fear that she would end up staying. Sam. This is not working out. I can't afford distractions right now and any distraction that affects my work has to go. Including you. Plus, Bhaiyya wants me to be home and I kinda miss my family. Don't you miss yours? Or do they not miss you, that's why? And anyway, you'll easily find another girl. You've always been great in that department. Good luck with that, yeah? She would have scoffed at impersonal letter if not for the fact that any sound she made would have led to her breaking down and weighed it down with the salt shaker. She opened the door one last time with her key and left it hanging on the hook before shoving all her things out, pulling the door shut quickly before she could change her mind. Only then. Only then did she let herrself sink down to the steps, sobs escaping her even as she tried to muffle them any way she could.

Sameer flinched, waking up to the sound of the door slamming shut and then tears. His blood ran cold, he'd told Nikita that it was a terrible idea to go see Ouija, especially in theatres. Of course she hadn't let him live it down when he screamed pathetically, covering his eyes in fear and now he was scared again. He turned over to hold Nikita when he hit empty space, her side of the bed was still made. He opened his eyes to see all the lights in the house were off. He stood up, making his way into the living room and then the kitchen. It was there his eyes fell on the note, scanning the words as his chest constricted painfully, making it hard to breath. He ran back inside the bedroom, ashamed that he hadn't seen how empty it looked without Nikita's stuff. He stormed back out, pulling the door open when he nearly tripped over the person he just so happened to be looking for. At first, his voice was caught in his throat ans he cleared it multiple times. The note was still crumpled in his hand and he raised it. "Iska matlab -- what is the -- what do you mean by this?" He inquired in growing disbelief

Nikita roughly wiped her tears away with the base of her palm, hoping it was dark enough to conceal that action while she physically shielded her face with her hair. Their floor light was dim as hell and she remembered how he had complained about it incessantly. She jumped when he called his name again, looking completely confused. She hadn't been expecting this. She had expected him to wake up in the morning to the note because he was usually such a deep sleeper that it took actual trumpets to wake him up. Not knowing what or how to respond, she simply froze, staring at the bags in front of her. What did she mean by that? What could anyone mean by leaving a note and taking all of their stuff away? Laughter bubbled forth from her lips and she shook her head quickly, trying to stop it but it simply escaped more. As though laughter had replaced her sobs. It was only when she physically stopped it by clamping down on her mouth with her hands that she managed to shut up, though by this point she was sure he could hear it echoing along the stairway. "Can't you read English?" she asked in a monotone, glancing up at him. Or rather, glancing up at the spot next to him. There was no way she could stare at him, stare at his absolutely dejected expression without breaking down. "Or do you need me to read it for you? You can't even do such a simple thing yourself now?" She marvelled inwardly at how easy it had been to spit those words out - she just channelled her own self-hatred towards him.

Sameer flinched at her jibe, his fist clenching around the note. He wouldn't lose his temper, couldn't lose his temper on the girl he loved so much, so much that he would be willing to disregard his family for her. He ignored her taunt and sat down next to her, it taking all of his restraint not to hokd her. She didn't understand that if she left him, not only would he be not hers, he wouldn't be anyone else's either. Every road he knee only led to her, it always had led to her he didn't possess the strength to make a new map. He still couldn't seem to grasp as to why she was breaking up with him, they had it all. They had everything,they had given each other everything. He ran a hand through his hair, realizing they had been sitting in complete silence for more than twenty minutes. He was still too busy with his internal monologue. Why didn't she grasp this was just as hard for him as it had been for her? He had never given anyone so much before, never given anyonr access to his heart, To the general public, Sameer Raichand didn't even have a heart to be broken. She had bled into his skin to the extent where she was his life. "Why?" he asked softly, his voice pained as he refused to look at her. Two could play this game and he was equally as stubborn as she. His heart however taunted, taunted him why Nikita was so impirtant to him, why her unfulfilled wishes amounted more than any of his, why he only knew her name. He didn't understand any of it - all he knew was that her tears were irking him because he had promised he would never make her cry. He'd promised to take her tears unto himself and make sure she did nothing but smile. He'd broken the one thing he'd promised. His heart beat anxiously in his chest with th anticipation of destruction. Trepidation at the fact that he would lose everything he'd ever had. He inhaled sharply, wishing there was a way to shut off his conscience like a light switch, but no such thing existed. "Niki please don't," he whispered sadly. He wanted so desperately to make her understand, to make her understand that they would never find a relationship like this. One where he was hers, she was his and they were each other. Not evrryone got a love like this in their lietime and here she was throwing it away. They were the forever type couple, the couple that everyone had put their bets on, the couple that were dupposed to get married if every cliche served them right. He could feel everything shattering around him, everything that he'd worked so hard to create was being destroyed. Their house of cards was falling over and he didn't know how to control it. His hands ithed for something, he wanted to hold her, to kiss her senseless, to run his fingers in her hair, to touch her because it felt as if he would never get another chance.

Nikita had a habit of getting panic attacks from childhood. No one knew how these attacks had started but everyone knew that if they didn't calm her down soon enough one way or the other, she would start hyperventilating and eventually her breaths will get shallow to the point where she would pass out. That marked the end of a particularly bad episode. And for other reasons she couldn't explain, there were only two people in the whole world who could calm her down without any medication involved. The first one was her brother. Her personal magician who made every trouble go away. The second person was sitting right next to her in utter silence, silence that was suffocating her and pushing her to the edge of an attack. It seemed ironic to her that the person who could calm her down could just as easily start one. Because she was his. In every sense of the word. She dug her nails into her palm at his soft plea, letting the pain override other senses for momentary flashes of clarity. "Don't what?" she asked, her voice higher than she would have liked. "You always thought I was going to leave you. I'm just proving your theory right." If he only knew how much hatred it took for her to say those words. How badly she wanted to stab something into herself so that the pain could take the hatred away. But Nikita Malhotra was a stubbornly practical person. That had always been her major flaw. "I don't want to be your maid. Picking up your clothes, cleaning your kitchen, feeding you. That's what your ma does. Or have you forgotten her as well?" She shifted away from him, because she could feel him flinching and god she didn't want to. She just wanted to stop feeling. "I can't entertain you for any longer, Sam. It's tiring. I'm tired. I'm bored." She wondered briefly whether it would be possible to puncture her skin with her nails, because she was going to need a lot more pain than that to fuel the conversation if it continued.

Sameer couldn't hear her words, he could, they were ringing in his ears but he could tell that Nikita was on the verge of a panic attack, possibly her worst one yet and all he could think about was that he needed to help. He needed to fix this mess he'd made. He pulled her into his arms, his hands pushing hers away, the ones that were digging into her skin. "Shh," he whispered, pressing his lips to her hair, whispering things that were now meanigless given the state of their relationship but he knew that it would go a long way in calming her down. He loved her, he just wished that she would try to understand.

Nikita clutched the front of his shirt to pull herself closer, letting his words wash over him. She knew this time it wouldn't help, because he was just making it worse. His touch only reminded her that she needed to leave, that she was a burden to him because he needed to take care of her. A liability Her breaths turned into gasps and she could hear Sameer's voice get louder to get through to her but all she could do was shake her head, pushing him away from her with as much force as she could muster - which only resulted in her slamming herself against the wall on her side. If she hadn't been in thr midst of a full out attack, she woyld have realised that trying to push him aeay eas only leading to hurt herself. That trying to cause him pain only inflicted pain to herself. "Leave," she managed between breaths, bringing her knees to her chest. "Please. Leave. Let me leave."

Sameer let go of her. "I'll let you go... just tell me why," he prodded softly. He spoke softly, not wanting her panic attack to full blow and erupt. He would never want anything like that, even though her words destroyed him. Even though the fact that she wanted to leave was slowly breaking him. He pulled away from her entirely, standing up to lean against the crevice where the two walls of the hallway met, running a hand through his hair. It really was ending, everything he'd built his life around was crumbling. He was crumbling.

Nikita took shallow breaths, composing herself begore she trusted herself to speak. What did he want to hear? What was thr worst thing sje could tell him? Something that would throw him off completely. Her lawyer side kicked in and she stared down at her hands, starting to take in deep breaths. "I'm tired of you," she said quietly, keeping her eyes on her hands. The stupid piece of string caught her eye and she pulled it off. That was it. She found the way. She chucked the string at him, letting it fall to his feet, ignoring every impulse to scramble to get it back. "I'm just a distraction, Sam. I'm a distraction supposed to solve your problems. I'm not fucking Doctor Phil. Do you understand how exhausted I am with everyone telling me you're a trainwreck and still staying on? You know why, Sam?" She lookrd up at him and narrowed her eyes, her fingers back to digging dents in her palms. "Because you're pathetic. Bordering on suicidal. I want someone whose on their own two feet, not dependent on me for anything. Someone who doesn"t run away at every chance." She collapsed back at that, exhausted by herself. Exhausted by how much pain it was causing her. She wanted it to stop. Everything.

Sameer swallowed at her words, the intensity threatening to crumble his walls. The walls he'd put up around himself, the walls he'd crafted so people wouldn't take advantage, would never know who the real him was. It had been a mistake to give Nikita the access, he froze then, realizing that she always had the power. She'd always had the power to build or destroy him and he'd never said a word, just let her walk all over him (unknowingly). That was what was happening again, he refused to look at her as he chewed on his lip, glaring definitively at the piece of string that lay between them, the thing that had once joined them - now destroyed, destroyed everything they'd created. He ran a hand through his hair, nodding to what she was saying because he agreed. He'd always known that he wasn't good enough for her, he'd told her on multiple occasions, shared those fears with Abhay and let them fester. He had been idiotic to think that it wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass. He nodded once more, trying to make sense of the entire thing, trying to wrap his head around the fact that she wasn't his anymore; that she was backing out but what hurt the most was the way she felt. The one person he'd hoped wouldn't feel the way he felt about himself, did exactly that and he wasn't sure where he stood anymore. He finally looked up, meeting her gaze and praying to whatever existed "up there" that she couldn't see his crestfallen expression but most importantly, that he wouldn't cry in front of her. He cleared his throat, attempting to rid the lump that seemed to be stuck before speaking, "Do you want me to drop you home or something?"

Nikita could have just stabbed herself to death right there. Even after she had hurt him as much as she could, even after she had thrown every last cruel word at him and he still wanted to drop her off? How was he even real? She wanted to be selfish again, and beg him to come back because she was nothing without him. But no. She couldn't. She couldn't let him keep sacrificing everything important in his life just to make things work with her. "No," she said shortly, standing up. "I'll manage. Just leave." If he didn't, she might give up completely give up and crawl back to him again, chaining him back to her.

Nikita was this close to a panic attack and had already chewed off the end of her pencil from trying to contain it. She was only starting to realise how much work she had missed in the month that her personal life took a nosedive and a very strong gut feeling told her that perhaps she was too late to catch up for it. She quickly scrolled through the amount of case studies and readings she had missed and had no bloody idea where she should start from. Three tri-terms. She had missed three goddamn tri-terms. Why had no one told her? She had to bite down to hide a scoff - she had forgotten how competitive law school was. Her attention was easily diverted by Sameer's voice and she leaned towards him, ruffling his hair. "How's it going?" she asked, shifting her laptop aside to shift on the couch so that he could lean his head against her folded legs. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she perched her chin on his head, reading whatever he had written so far. "That sounds... Interesting." Both of them knew she understood jack but she tried anyway, because she knew how hard it was for him to make himself go through med school everyday without puking blood.

Sameer rolled his eyes. "Don't pretend," he grumbled quietly, resting his head in Nikita's lap as he pulled his textbook onto his knees as his finger ran over the text on the pages. "It's so boring, I'd rather shove a knife down my throat," he complained with a shudder as he shut the textbook quite vehemently. He turned to look at her, peering over her laptop screen. "How are you doing?" he inquired guiltily, feeling as if he was the reason she was lagging behind in her studies. Their world was quite consuming, sometimes it was almost second instinct to forget anything else existed outside of each other.

Nikita only shook her head with a small smile, leaning in to press her lips to his temple. "You worry about your thesis," she said strictly, turning his head back. She placed her forehead on the back of his head, pausing to catch a breath. She was exhausted. So tired. And it didn't help that her mood was shit around anyone except Sameer. Swallowing back a sigh, she got off from the couch, heading towards the fridge to get herself a cup of jucice. Holding two glasses in hand, she scanned the cintents of the fridge and then pulled back to look at Sameer. "Jaan, we're out of juice. And uh... Eggs. And we're down to the last slice of bread, which none of us are going to eat." She looked up again to catch him staring at her with a small smile and she returned it with ease. "See something you like?" she called out, striking a pose against the open fridge door.

Sameer nodded. "You," he retorted, shooting her a wink before grabbing his jeans off the dining table chair as he slipped them on. "You make a list and then we can go grocery shopping later tonight," he told her. "That's okay right? I mean if I go by myself I'll end up either buying too much of everything or too little." He laughed some more before pressing a kiss to Nikita's cheek as he made his way back to the living room, starting up work on his thesis once more. Sometimes he'd forget that they were actually living together, that they were just dating because they were so in sync. They knew each other inside out, their habits, likes, dislikes - plus they bickered like an old married couple. They practically were married in Sameer's head.

Nikita smiled at him, even though he couldn't see it. She observed him silently, watching the small frown of concentration he had when he was focusing on his work. That was her favourite look, she decided. The way he would occasionally descend into a glare, as though he wanted his thesis to burn in hell. The way he stubbornly stuck the dumb highlighter behind his ear, a habit that he had had since forever. She had been staring at him since she was a kid, because everything about him fascinated her. Every little quirk of his made her fall in love with him even more, made her not want to share him with anyone. She realised she had been standing in front of the open fridge door for too long once she started getting cold and shut it quickly, heading towards him. "Can we go now?" she asked, sliding in next to him on the floor and resting her head against his shoulder when he wrapped his arm around her. "Vaise bhi I want to make dinner at night and you'll be so tired from work. You didn't even take off your socks yesterday when you fell asleep, remember?"

Sameer laughed. "What would I do without you?" He paused before shaking his head, running a hand through his hair. "Actually, don't answer that," he said between chuckles, grabbing his wallet and car keys. Turning back to look at her once he was at the door, he tapped his foot expectantly. "Chal na, I have to be at the hospital in two hours," he reminded her diligently as he watched her get ready with a small smile lighting up his features and crinkling his eyes.

Nikita felt her mood soar instantly because spending time with him, even while they were doing the most mundane things, made her the happiest. "Coming!" she called out, deciding to let her hair down and pulled on his jacket before heading out to the car, where he was already waiting. "Have I told you how handsome you look when you smile?" she said softly, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek before pushing him into the passenger seat, grabbing the keys. "No, shoo, I want to drive today." He was always so protective over the damn car that she wanted to take it for a spin, just once, even if it was just a few blocks away. "Come on, darling, don't tell me you're scared of your competition," she purred at the car, grinning when it started and easily navigated the thinning traffic towards the supermarket. She could tell he was holding hsi breath the entire way when she was trying to parallel park and heard him exhale slowly when she finally parked it perfectly. "Kuch toh bharosa karo apne girlfriend par," she chided him, poking his side with a mock frown and threw the keys easily back at him before heading inside, grabbing a trolley.

Sameer grumbled under his breath about he wouldn't even trust his own mother with his car. He loved his car, it was his baby, his first love (after music). He followed her into the supermarket, his hands shoved into his jean pockets as he kicked his feet on the tiles, picking up the things that Nikita told him to. He was wary of the cashiers this time round because the last time they had been shopping together, all the assistants had cooed at them, congratulating them on their marriage which had caused Sameer to turn red. He looked up when Nikita said his name and laughed. "Can't reach can you?" he teased before reaching up to the top shelf to take the tabasco sauce before pressing a kiss to Nikita's temple in an attempt to soothe her begrudging look as he dumped the item into the trolley. He stood behind her, his hands besides hers on the trolley as he pushed both the trolley and Nikita forward, perching his chin on her shoulder.

Nikita stared at the contents in the trolley, pretty damn sure she had missed something. She knew she would remember it once she was home, just like they had completely forgotten milk the other time. "Tomatoes?" she muttered to herself, wondering if she would need them. She had already decided on aglio oglio for dinner the next day and she was going to need tomatoes for that. She wanted to tell Sameer to get the tomatoes but her utterly unhelpful boyfriend was too busy being distracting as usual without even knowing it. She could feel his breath in her ear and despite wearing a jacket, she was starting to get goosebumps. Quickly turning back so that he ended up leaning more towards her, she captured his lips in a kiss, taking his time while still walking down the aisle. "Can you get me the tomatoes?" she asked when they finally broke off, giggling at both his indignant expression and the scandalized ones of the women nearby. "I'll be at the checkout," she called out, throwing an extra big grin at the women before wheeling into the counter. She offered the girl a polite smile before starting to dump the items on the counter, hoping that her boyfriend had managed to find the tomatoes.

Sameer pouted at his girlfriend's back before begrudgingly walking towards the fresh fruits and vegetables section, picking out tomatoes into his shopping basket as he got it weighed and finally made his way to the check out counter. He dumped it where Nikita was standing, crossing his arms like a petulant child. "Last time i come grocery shopping," he complained, watching with interest as the cashier checked out their items and pushed Nikita out of the way before she could even think about paying. He was paying, he always paid. She was his girlfriend. His fiance. Which meant he had every right to pay for her, and they weren't married so he couldn't even pull the joint account card. He filed that under list of Reasons why Nikita Malhotra should marry Sameer Raichand, and carried the bags, following Nikita to their car.

Nikita stared at the receipt, making sure all the costs were correct before figuring how much to transfer to his account. She found that ut was way easier to not argue against and instead just split the bill by not telling him. That way, he couldn't annoy her about how he should be paying for her and all that. She still had a feeling that there was something they were forgetting but pushed it out of her mind, sitting in the passenger seat this time after loading the boot with the bags. "How does grilled fish sound?" she thought aloud, folding the receipt into a jacket pocket. "And mushroom soup... No, that doesn't sound good. Skip the fish. We can have broth and bread." She turned to him inly after having decided, beaming at him. "Sounds good?"

Sameer smiled at her. "Kitni baar bolon main. Jo tu khilai gi, sab khaonga. Even if it's burned, or there's too much or too little salt in it," he reminded her, unsure of how to explain that he didn't care, he just loved her. He would always love her, no matter what she did and that she didn't have to go through all this extra effort, he was already floored by her. So floored, simply so awestruck that sometimes he forgot how to breath when he watched her. Once they were both seated (Sameer in the driver's seat this time, he wasn't taking any chances with his baby), he turned to her. "I love you, you know that right?" He paused, shooting her a nervous smile. "I love you a lot ya," he whined, leaning in to kiss her, his torso pressing into the gearshift.

Nikita smiled into the kiss but pushed him away, scooting closer to him instead. Another one of her favourite things about him - all the random kisses. All the random confessions in varying tones and pitches that made her fall in love with him deeper and deeper. His love was a quicksand. A raging river. An unforgiving cliff. "Love you too," she whispered back, pulling away the slightest bit to run her fingers over his features. "Now, unless you want to make out here in front of the supermarket, shall we head back home?" The word always made her pause, more so at the ease with which it slipped out. Home. Theirs. She smiled to herself, wondering how she had lucked out with him.

Sameer yawned, rolling over to his side to pull Nikita closer to him, missing her body heat. He however frowned when instead of his girlfriend, he only got an empty bed and thr sunglight in his eyes. He whined at the sun some before grumbling to himself as he tried to get up. It didn't end very well because in his haste, the quilt was now over his head. He let out a soft huff, crossing his arms as he stood up with a yawn. His hair was tousled and stuck out at odd angles, like a bird's nest. Deciding that his boxers were appropriate attire for staying at his house. He made his way into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend's torsoas he pressed his face in her neck. "Smells good, kya bana rahi ho aaj, patni ji."

Nikita laughed softly, twisting slightly to press a kiss to his temple. "Morning," she greeted him as she flipped the eggs quickly before dumping them on the plate. "Bacon and eggs kyun ki main itni original hoon." She slapped bacon strips on to the pan before turning back, very pleasantly surprised to find him shirtless. She decided then that she really liked him shirtless. She secured her hands around him and pressed a firm kiss to his jaw and then tried to fix the mess that was his hair. "And here I thought I had terrible bed hair," she muttered, trying in vain to press down the hair sticking in the oddest directions.

Sameer let out a begrudging laugh, smiling sleepily at his girlfriend as she tried to fix his hair but only ended up making it worse. He pushed her hands away, locking them in his grasp as he pulled her in to kiss her quickly. "I call it my just got laid look. Unfortunately," he lamented. "I haven't been laid -- What do you suggest we do to change that?" he whispered, his hand inching up the shirt that she was wearing slowly, breakfast forgotten. He was honestly so surprised that she had actually decided to move in with him, but he wasn't regretting it. They were fitting in perfectly, as if they were made for this. Made to live with each other for the rest of their lives.

Nikita threw him a warning look but let out a squeak when she felt his fingers inch up her waist and the air hit her exposed midriff. She had half a mind to push him away but then realised it was just the two of them, that they were alone, that they didn't have to care about who was around. "Stop," she whispered half-heartedly, only to pull him in for a kiss. "You got laid eight hours ago, if you forgot," she quickly added when smelt her toast burning, sliding down from him with a laugh while reaching out for the toaster. "And we don't have time for that today, mister. We need to decorate your room, remember? And the rest of the house. I'm tired of bumping into boxes in the morning." The truth was that she loved having their own little world, she loved having him all to herself, not having to share with anyone else.

  Sameer grumbled quietly to himself. "Can't you channel this domestic goddess when I'm at work?" he whined, reaching out for her again. He sat down on the stool at the kitchen counter reluctantly, watching his girlfriend busy herself in his kitchen. His kitchen which he barely used and mostly stocked with instant food because it took too much effort to make anything. His mother had taught him the basics, and he knew how to make momos and chowmein but that was about it. He didn't really need much else to survive, coffee was his staple diet anyways. But now it seemed like there would be even less of a use to it with Nikita around. He took a sip of the coffee she'd put in front of him, a smile appearing on his face when it tasted exactly how he liked it. Little things like that still made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside and he wondered when he would stop behaving like a hormonal teenage girl. "I love you, you know that right?" he managed to get out through bites of food, which really tasted like heaven on earth. He moaned a little at the crisp bacon. "If you make food like this everyday, I could marry you right here," he teased.

Nikita only smiled at his comment, dumping the skillet into the sink before joining him at the small dining table. It was enough for both of them and she didn't need anything or anyone more than him. "If I married you, then you'll start taking my food for granted," she threw back easily and pulled his hand with the toast towards her, taking a bite out of his instead. She slid closer to him so that she could place her legs on his lap and knew in that moment that this was how she wanted to spend every morning. "Which colour are we going with for your room then?" she asked after gulping down her milk, stacking the empty plates up. They had ended up having an argument at the paint shop over which colour to get, and that led to them lugging three different colours of pastel paint back to the flat. But she didn't regret the argument - there was a reason make up sex was said to be amazing.

Sameer pondered her question for a few seconds before sipping at his coffee. "That turquoise we got. Not the blinding one, the one that looks like the sparkling ocean waters in Bali and stuff," he clarified, even though he knew that there was no change in eloquence and out of the corner of his eye he could see Nikita shaking her head at him in laughter and he pouted at her. "So mean ya," he whined, only brightening up when she kissed his cheek. It was the proximity he enjoyed, he realized. Being able to hold her hand whenever he wanted, kiss her whenever he wanted, hold her whenever he wanted, love her whenever he wanted - away from the prying eyes of the world. He stood up begrudgingly, an expectant look on his face. "I'll get the paints, you cover everything in newspaper."

Nikita tied her hair up properly and pulled on a pair of old shorts before digging out two pairs of aprons, since she couldn't find any overalls. She was particularly fond of this shirt and didn't want to see it splattered with paint. "Please put on a shirt," she called out while literally throwing newspaper on everything in the room. As much as he liked being Salman Khan around the house, she got too easily distracted when he strutted around shirtless. She pushed the clothes rack out of the room but then had to do a double take at how their clothes were all mixed with each other. Had she only been living here for three days? It didn't feel like it. It felt like she had been for years, as though she had slipped back into a life she was meant to be living.

Sameer protested at her order but complied anyways, slipping on his ratty football jersey from the high school days - his last name was still emblazoned on the back along with his jersey number, 10. He made his way into his bedroom before dipping the enormous paintbrush into the bucket of paint as he started the brush strokes, exactly how both Nikita and the lady at the home furniture store (who didn't stop congratulating them on their marriage, much to Sam's delight) had instructed him to, but was starting to find the task tedious. "Nikiii," he whined. "Do we have to do this? Can't we just hire someone?"

Nikita knew the complaint was coming from a mile away even before he said it. "Isn't it better if we paint our own house?" she asked and then fell silent at the pronoun that she had used without even thinking twice. She only blinked back to reality when Sameer leaned in to place a fond kiss and she shot him a smile, butterflies erupting in her stomach at finally realising how big this step was. Their house. Their home. That got Sameer painting diligently for a quarter of an hour before he threw down the brushes again, declaring he was done. Nikita only rolled her eyes before putting down her own, sliding her hands slowly across his shoulders and down his arms. "If we finish this fast then we can work on that get laid hairstyle," she suggested softly and placed a lingering kiss behind his ear. She was a lawyer, after all - she knew how to get her way.

Sameer felt his head still reeling from the kiss as he watched her with squinted eyes, trying to regain his grip on reality. She had called this apartment their home. It was /their/ home and that thought made Sameer giddy for reason he couldn't begin to fathom. "Tease," he grumbled under his breath as a complaint before starting up thr painting again. A full two hours latet with the walls repainted, he flopped down on the bed, complaining about his aching bones like a retired war veteran. He moaned and groaned and kicked up a huge fuss until Nikita came closer, to which he tugged her into him and smeared her nose blue with the paint that was on his finger, rolling away with a deviant chuckle

Nikita stared at him, stunned and then slowly rubbed the the paint off her nose, wrinkling it while doing so. "Sameer Raichand, how dare you--" She ran after him with her brush but there was no way she could have caught a football player without some form of trickery. She pulled the newspapers hard from under his feet and attacked him once he was on the floor, leaving trails of blue paint on his neck in the midst of uncontrollable laughter. She had to pull back to laugh, leaning against his propped up knees as she did so. "Y-you look like avatar," she managed in between gasps of air and had to hold her sides because they were starting to ache from the laughter. It died down slowly when she realised he was staring at her - as though she was the only person that existed. She looked down and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, only to have him grip her wrist to stop her. He turned over her hand to show the paint on her fingers and she somehow ended up staring at him, hopelessly falling in love with him all over again. The process happened at least once a day and by now she was familiar with the almost painful constriction of her heart. She felt too much for him for her poor heart to take. She leaned in slowly and pressed her lips to his, keeping her hands on his chest as she took her time, as though it was the first time she had ever kissed him. Her heart was hammering so loudly in her chest when she pulled away that she was sure he could hear it. "Do you remember our first kiss?" she asked softly, as though sharing a secret. "It was during Christmas, remember? The mistletoe at Natasha's house." She laughed softly at the memory and sat up once more, looking at him fondly. "You were my first kiss. And my second. And everything else after."

Sameer smiled, his eyes crinkling. He remembered everything about her with an intensity that shocked even him. He reached up to kiss her, holding her hands in his. "I do, you didn't want to kiss me," he reminded her with a chuckle. He recalled it, bright as day It had been the Singhania's Christmas party and he had been sixteen, Nikita thirteen. They hadn't treated it like a kiss, to them it wasn't significant in that sense. At the time, neither of them were interested in each other, he remembered. Or at least they weren't aware of their raging feelings. He'd started to pick up on how possessive Nikita was over him back then but had brushed it off. It was second instinct to be each other's. They had always been each other's everything: from a partner in crime to a literal support system. He remembered being caught under the mistletoe with Nikita as Zoya, Aaliya, Abhay, Shaan and Natasha all chanted 'kiss! kiss! kiss!' That was all it had taken for Sameer to tug on Nikita's wrist hard as he pulled her in for a quivk peck on the lips. It hadn't affected their relationship in any way. Or so he had thought. He started viewing who used to be his best friend in a completely different way. He tried to ignore thr heart palpitations, the sweaty palms around her, once again passing it off as nothing. "I love you more than my life Aloo," he reminded her, cupping her cheeks in his hand as he looked her dead in the eyes. The very eyes he had fallen heads over heels for. He felt slightly tainted that he'd had others before Nikita - a lot of others, try a fucking buffet - but he knew that he had just been searching for her all along. She completed him. He wanted to be with her all the time. She was his and he was hers.

Nikita frowned slightly at his statement because as much as she loved him, she didn't want him to love her that much. That was what scared her - how could two people love each other so much? With so much intensity that they would end up burning themselves and everyone else around them? "Don't," she warned him, pulling down his hands from her face and holding them tightly. "Promise me you'll never say that. Don't love me so much. It scares me." She let out a soft sigh and them smiled instantly, pressing a kiss to his jaw. She didn't want to live in constant fear that a small mistake from her would push him to the verge of harming himself but his love for her both exhilarated and scared her. "Shall we clean up?" she suggested, rubbing her nose with his so that the paint went on to his nose as well.

Sameer pouted when she smeared paint all over his nose. "You made me dirty," he whined, resembling his eight year old self as he pushed Nikita back down on the bed. He took her in, his eyes roving over her before smiling as he leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek. "I don't know," he whispered, his lips moving to her ear. "I quite like where we are right now," he retorted cheekily before moving off of her entirely and standing up as he began to roll up the newspapers at a slow speed, turning back to see Nikita still on the bed. "What are you doing woman?" he groaned exasperatedly, placing his hands on his hips as he attempted to look disapprovingly at her, but failed miserably, poking her leg. "Come help na?"

Nikita laughed at his miserable attempt to get her to budge but eventually got up, picking up the newspapers until the room was clean of newspapers. She scrunched them up before scrunching the balls up to dump them easily and pushed them to the side. She was just about to pick them up to throw outside but she stood there transfixed, easily distracted by her boyfriend who had taken off his shirt again. She sometimes wondered whether God had created this specimen just to make her sin every time because she literally couldn't help but reach out for him every time she found him without a shirt. She tugged him back by the loopholes of his shorts, wrapping her arms around his torso from the back as she went on tiptoes to press her lips to his shoulder blade. "You should shower before the paint dries," she suggested softly, her fingers releasing him for her grip so that she could trail them down his side.

Sameer let out a laugh at her words. "What paint? The one from your lipstick?" he teased quietly, turning around so he was facing her. "I seem to recall that you promised you'd do something about me getting laid once we were done painting..." he trailed off, knowing that she'd gotten the gist of what he was suggesting and smirked at her before leaning in to kiss her again. Somedays he would argue that this was the best part of the live in relationship, that he could kiss her, anywhere and any time he liked and there would be nobody else to stop him. Most days it was the fact that they trusted each other enough to forward their relationship in this way. After all, almost everyone knew that live-in relationships were the last step before marriage. It was a trial and error experiment to see if you were ready for the big commit. He glanced down at their intertwined hands before lifting them up as he pressed a kiss to the back of Nikita's hand, smiling as he did so.

Nikita leaned up to kiss his jaw, smiling to herself at the words. She had never been one for cheesy nonsense, but that was before she had fallen hopelessly in love with this boy. This boy whom she called jaan because he was not just her other half, he was her life. And deciding to shift in with him had been the scariest thing she had done in a long while but it was so worth it when she could kiss him openly, she could tug him back anytime she wanted and stare at him openly for hours, without anyone judging her. She bit down on her lip as she considered her next words. She wouldn't have had the courage to say them out loud if they had been in their repective houses but this place was theirs. A huge smile came up on her lips at the thought. Theirs. "We can do both...?" She let out an embarrassed laugh at her own words, hiding her blush by looking down. She didn't need to pretend around him because her walls didn't work around him. He dismantled them in a flash with that easy smile of his that annoyed her so much. That was the best part about him. She didn't need to try to be happy around him like she had to around others. She didn't need to pretend in front of her mirror.

Sameer lifted her chin up with his fingers, feeling the strange urge to coo at her blush. The fact that he could still make her blush this way, make her squirm with his words reassured him that if they were to ever get married, the magic wouldn't fade or whatever new age bullshit people said to prolong marriage. "That's what I'm talking 'bout," he whispered easily, pushing Nikita back down on the bed as his fingers went to work on the buttons of her (his) shirt and had leaned in to kiss her when his phone rang. He pulled away with a barely supressed groan. "You have to be fucking kidding me," he hissed under his breath as he pulled away, reaching over to grab his phone as he pressed it to his ear. "Jesus Abhay, did you have to call now?" he grumbled into the device, stepping outside their bedroom and collapsing on the couch as he let his best friend run over the details of their night out again, they were being extra careful so Vikram uncle wouldn't find out and skin Abhay alive because he was supposed to be studying.

Nikita could have easily throttled Abhay to death in that moment. She was literally ready to rip Sameer's clothes off him before the damn phonecall had killed the whole damn vibe. "Sameeeer," she whined loudly from the room, obviously displeased with the way things were going. She was supposed to be getting laid, not waiting on the bed like some jilted bride while nearly dying from being so horny. Huffing loudly, she undid all the buttons on her shirt before stomping out of the room to grab her towel. She took a detour towards the sofa where Sameer was talking in low tones, as if he was planning some secret mission. She pulled the phone out of his hand and then glared at Sameer for good measure. "Abhay Kapoor, I sincerely hope you rot in hell," she muttered viciously and pushed the phone back at him. Shrugging off his shirt, she balled it up and threw it in his face before heading back into the bathroom. She locked it for good measure, turning up the heater until all the windows were steamed and she hummed softly, taking her time with the shower and hoping the water would wash the irritation off.

Sameer was shocked for a matter of two seconds before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. It was so easy to rile up his girlfriend but she always looked so cute mad, so he supposed it was a win win situation. He frowned however when he heard the click of the bathroom door and it was his turn to get antsy. He got up, knocking on the door, taking a step back when he got curse words in return. "Hakuna matata Niks, hakuna matata," he reminded her sagely, before shaking his head with a chuckle as he made his way into the kitchen deciding to make some sort of lunch. He got out the noodles, before starting to chop the vegetables and then got out the white flour dough which he easily moulded into a momo type shape before stuffing it with the minced chicken. He closed them up before heating them in the oven as he continued with the stove and poured olive oil into the pan as he dumped the noodles and vegetables in, starting his fry. The only decent thing he knew how to make was Chinese food and he'd decided that since it was past two - he would surprise Nikita with lunch. They had easily settled into a routine when she'd moved, they even had a dishwashing rota. He hummed to himself while cooking, enjoying how it seemed to calm his nerves and was almost therapeutic in a sense. The best part he supposed was, that when he turned on the exhaust fan, he didn't have to worry about his shirt being drenched in sweat because he wasn't wearing one.

Nikita stepped out in a crop top and shorts (why the hell not) and shook the water out from her head with the towel that practically enveloped her. Her steps stopped when she smelt food. Not just that - it smelt really good. It smelt like... Chinese! She hurried towards the kitchen, her stomach grumbling automatically at the smell of food. Had Sameer ordered in? Her steps stopped at the sight of him cooking, throwing in seasoning in extraordinarily great measures and smiled to herself, watching the sight with unexplainable joy. There was something incredibly sexy about her boyfriend cooking food shirtless and she groaned out loud because lord, she hadjust taken a shower. "Smells good," she said over the sound of the exhaust fan, wrapping her arms around him again. She turned him around and walked until he was against the counter, pressing a kiss to his throat. "Thank you," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his jaw this time. She pulled away when he leaned in and shook her head at him as fast as she could, sprinkling him with water and then giggled at the way he looked so indignant.

Sameer frowned as she ran away. "Nikiii," he whined, turning the gas to a simmer before chasing after his girlfriend, eventually catching her as they both fell on the couch, pinning her underneath him. He grinned at her devilishly before leaning in to kiss her, taking his time. He then trailed his lips along her jaw, pressing kisses down her neck. "Y'know, showering was really a waste of time," he whispered huskily, his fingers toying with the hem of her shirt as his hand inched it up slowly. He loved her, he really did, very much so and couldn't even begin to imagine spending the rest of his life with anyone. It was like before Nikita he had been fine, everything had been fine but now that she was in his life. She was with him, and everything was ten times better. He didn't even know that there had been things he was missing in his life. Without her, he was suddenly afraid he would forget how to function

Nikita tried to squirm out from his grasp but she forgot everything when she felt his lips on her skin. She sunk back into the sofa with a small sigh of content, her hand snaking up his back into his hair. She helped him pull her top off and she flung it aside, pushing herself higher so that she could tug him closer. "That's because you were too busy talking to your boyfriend," she whispered but the vindictiveness got lost in how breathless she was. A shudder passed through her when he started sucking lightly on her skin and she pushed him away, knowing very well that if she didn't stop now, they would end up with burnt food. "Food," she reminded him quietly, pushing him off to no avail. She succumbed to it, kissing his gently. "Is it always like this?" she asked hesitantly, her fingers combing through his hair. "So... so consuming. Like. Like there are flames. As if I've forgotten how to breathe." She felt stupid for her question but she hadn't known anyone so intimately before Sameer and she needed to know whether it felt like this every time. Whether this was how love felt like.

Sameer blinked at her before kissing her again chastely. "I love you," he reminded her, feeling his own chest constrict at the words because he felt all the things she did. He kissed her again, this time his lips barely touching her eyelids. "You're beautiful and I love you." Another kiss to her nose. "There is no one else I'd rather be with." He pressed tgeir lips together again, smiling at the contact. "Absolutely no one," he finished breathlessly.