A/N: This was rushed, so fair warning. It is horrible. Like one of my worst works. But hope you still read it! :) 3
Rahul wandered through their front yard, trying to find Pooja. She was mad at him, no, she was furious with him, after he had said a bit too much regarding her lack of emotion in the recent dance they had assembled for the new play.
She had complained that the character was far too… outgoing to be her.
Pooja could act and dance, she knew that, but some things were just out of her comfort zone.
Rahul, used to Nisha's malleability, wasn't able to register the fact that it was possible for someone to have boundaries.
But, he had fallen in love with Pooja for her innocent face, playful eyes, and shy demeanor.
Her way of sometimes giving him a glance, sometimes hiding behind her aanchal.
No one had believed him when he said she existed, but here she was. Married to him.
Pooja was staring at her husband, tiptoeing behind him as she giggled silently.
She thought back to Sonia's wedding, when Rahul had told her he would never get married. How he couldn't believe that two people could spend their entire life together. And here they were. Married. And he still ate too many sweets.
The Ganpati statues that they had both been given by Tai had a special place in both of their hearts, so they had showcased them appropriately in their home.
They lived very close to Pooja's aunt and uncle, but far enough that they didn't have to listen to her uncle's singing. Because, as much as Rahul loved music, he didn't love it that much. Or better, he loved it so much, he couldn't stand to hear it butchered. Or course, he never told Pooja this, knowing that she was overly defensive of her family.
One of the things he loved about her.
Pooja snuck up behind him, jumping onto his back, thankful for her husband's quick reflexes, as he caught her legs before she fell.
"I'm sorry, Pooja." He cuddled his head closer to hers. "But Mohini is a character who doesn't dance for herself, she's not like Maya. She dances for others, to please others, to provide for her mother."
Pooja hopped off his back, walking in front of him. "Just have Nisha do it."
Rahul paused, scratching his head. His mind flashed to Nisha's outgoing persona and realized that she was the perfect choice. "Right."
Pooja turned around, laughing about to run away, when Rahul's arms slipped around her waist, pulling her back.
"Are re are yeh," He held her tighter. "kya hua?"
"Koi na pehchana." She hummed, tapping his head with hers.
"Are re are banta hai toh,"
"Ban jaaye afasana." She finished, smiling widely.
"I love you."
She turned in his arms to hug him. "I love you."
Rahul was in the studio, attacking his drum set with the drumsticks.
Lately, he had been having trouble concentrating on writing the next play. He didn't want to place blame anywhere, or throw the concentration off of him.
It was Pooja's fault.
Everyone knew it.
For some reason, after their marriage, Rahul was losing focus whenever she was around. No one could fathom why.
Well, actually, they could.
But they didn't say anything for fear of the wrath of Rahul and his temper. Which still hadn't cooled, despite finding his love.
Despite finding his Maya.
Rahul had begun smiling more, and he was really happy. The cast could tell.
A change that Pooja had obviously brought on.
So the crew members were okay with Rahul's slight lack of concentration, because their friends were happy.
And they had slightly less work and slightly more food.
Which was always a good thing.
Pooja was alone in the studio, mimicking Rahul, as she had a habit of doing.
And Rahul was standing behind her watching her, as he had a habit of doing.
Except this time, Pooja's tone was not at all mocking. In fact, this time, Rahul could openly hear the love in her voice.
His eyes flitted to the diamond ring on her ring finger, as she raised her arms up on her head.
Pooja fitted Rahul's baseball cap on her head, smiling as she started to whistle. Rahul started walking toward her, from behind, reaching right behind her, completing the familiar tune, which symbolized their, well, their everything, before brushing aside her hair and laying a kiss on her neck.
Pooja turned around, looking him square in the eyes. "Kya hai?"
Rahul just smiled, pulling her closer into a hug.
Because no words were necessary.
"Can I help?"
Pooja looked up from the cutting board to see Rahul wearing an apron.
She stifled her giggle, and pointed towards the stove. "Put it on low."
Rahul pouted, disappointed. Pooja, who had already turned back to the cutting board, did not see it.
He had been hoping to get closer to her, as they needed some alone time. They had been busy recently at the studio, they literally had not spoken in private for about a week.
They would get home, and fall asleep.
And Rahul was sick and tired of that, so now, when he had the chance to simply spend some time with her, he wanted to do it in her proximity, not 'putting the stove on low.'
Pooja, on the other hand, wasn't stupid. She had eyes, and she knew Rahul like the back of her hand. Mostly because he was the one she had been waiting for. He was the one who was made for her.
So she was enjoying watching his disgruntled demeanor.
After making Rahul do a couple more meaningless tasks, like flip the roti and put the lid on the subzi, she called him over to help her chop the cilantro.
Rahul looked at her. "You know I hate cilantro."
Pooja looked back at him, glaring slightly. "And you know I love it."
Rahul shrugged, placing his arms around hers, guiding her hands to the knife with his,
Because it didn't really matter whether or not they both liked cilantro. What mattered was that they were together, married to each other (not other people), and they were happy.
Because that was all they needed.
A/N: So yeah, nothing really happened. At all. REVIEW! REview/pm me ideas for drabbles or stories if you want. Check out social media and other stories on profile :)