Meeting the Parents
AN: Because I loved Wake Up Sid so much. (:
Disclaimer: I do not own Wake Up Sid. That would belong to Ayaan Mukherjee and Karan Johar and whoever else came up with it.
"Hey, Aish…" Siddharth Mehra looked unusually animated. "You know, you've never introduced me to your parents."
Aisha Bannerjee lifted her eyes from the Tagore novel she was perusing and met Sid's eyes, lifting her eyebrows curiously. "No, I haven't," she admitted, closing the book and setting it aside. "Why does it matter, though?"
Sid grinned and scooted over on the futon so that his chin rested on her shoulder. "Because it's not fair that you've met my parents, and I haven't met yours," he replied in a wheedling tone. "Please, Aish? I want to meet them… I'll bet they'll like me."
Aisha laughed in spite of herself. "No one could dislike you, Siddharth," she replied affectionately. Sid made a face at her use of his full name – Aisha took a strange pleasure out of calling him 'Siddharth'… but since it was her, out of all people, he didn't mind so much.
"So? Can I?" Sid prodded mercilessly, pressing his face into the side of her neck. Aisha sighed and gently moved away, letting Sid flop forward ungracefully.
"I don't think that's such a good idea, Sid," she frowned. Sid spluttered into the futon and sat up, eyeing her in concern.
"Why not?"
"Ah…" Aisha fiddled with the hem of the shirt she was wearing. It was one of Sid's silly cartoon T-shirts – since he refused to return her white kameez, she'd 'stolen' one of his shirts in retribution. "I just… don't think it's the right time, you know?"
"Okay, if you say so," Sid smiled, stretching out so that his head rested in her lap. He turned so the he was on his back, staring up at her face. Aisha looked down at him and grinned half-heartedly, picking up her novel and flipping it open to the page she'd been on.
"Aish." Aisha ignored him and tried to concentrate on the words in front of her. "Hey, Aish," he cajoled, "look at me."
"What is it?" she asked exasperatedly after he'd repeated her name for the tenth time. Sid grinned up at her, his dark eyes dancing under his half-closed lids.
"I love you."
Her frustrated look softened. "I love you, too. Now go to sleep."
"Mhm." He closed his eyes and let out a deep, heavy sigh. "'Night, Aish."
"Good night, Siddharth," she whispered softly, putting away her book again and shutting off the lamp. Moonlight trickled through the window behind them, and she watched as shadows and light alternately played across her beloved's face.
His question nagged at her. She'd never even told her parents about Sid. How would they react? She was sure they would be shocked. A twenty-seven-year-old dating a twenty-year-old? Her parents prided themselves on being open-minded, but such a large gap between ages – especially with the woman being older – would alarm them. Aisha winced as she remembered how Siddharth's father had reacted.
He'd eventually calmed down, and even thanked her for taking care of his wayward son, but his harsh words about 'cradle-snatchers' still haunted her from time to time.
Aisha brushed some hair out of Sid's face and leaned down, kissing his forehead softly, lovingly.
He still worked at Mumbai Beat on weekends and every other weekday – he'd even taken up photography at college, and was heading the photography club. He'd also, strangely enough, developed a liking for his class on Indian Culture. She still wasn't sure what allure it held for him.
He grumbled and shifted slightly, his face wrinkling as he frowned. She stroked one hand over his head, and his frown relaxed.
I love him so much, she realized with a pang. Is this even healthy?
He rolled to one side so his face was pressed into her stomach, his legs flung at odd angles. Aisha laughed softly and gazed at him fondly.
It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. All I know is that I love this boy – no, this man – with everything I have, and I will never let anyone take him away from me.
Maybe I'll let you meet my parents one day, Sid. One day.
AN: Because honestly, parents would be a little shocked about their almost-thirty daughter dating a twenty-year-old.
679 words.
