The dim glow of the bedside lamp casts long shadows across the room, flickering gently against the ivory curtains swaying in rhythm with the night breeze. A tense silence lingered, stretched taut between the two people now sharing the same space, the same bed.

She stood frozen near the edge of the mattress, fingers clutched tightly around the hem of her dupatta. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs, as if trying to escape. This wasn’t how she had imagined her first night would be—not that she had imagined it at all.

The room felt too quiet, like the air itself was holding its breath.

He, on the other hand, seemed far more relaxed, already leaning back against the headboard, one arm tucked behind his head as he typed on his laptop. A faint smirk played on his lips, as if he could hear her overthinking every little moment.

Then finally his voice broke- without looking up at her he asked, "What happened...wifey?" His voice gentle and soft. Then he looked up at her, blinking once before setting his laptop aside. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes, but also something gentler. Warmer.

“Umm... A-Are we sle... sleeping on the same... bed?” she asked, her voice shaking with the effort to remain composed. Her fingers were fidgeting now, the nerves in her body betraying her every emotion. She didn’t dare meet his gaze.

A long pause.

Then came his response—smooth, teasing, and laced with a quiet affection.

“Yes, wifey! We are. Is there any problem?”

Wifey.

Again.

That word hit her like a thunderclap. Her breath caught in her throat, a flush creeping up her cheeks. He said it so easily, so naturally—as if the word had always belonged to her. She could hear her own heartbeat echoing in her ears.

“N.. No,” she stammered quickly, eyes wide as she finally dared a fleeting glance at him. “Not at all.”

She turned away before he could see the full bloom of pink rising in her face, pretending to adjust the pillows instead. Her fingers trembled slightly as she slid under the blanket, keeping a safe two-foot buffer between their bodies.

“G... Good night,” she added in a barely audible murmur, curling into herself, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

For a moment, there was no reply. Only the soft hum of the AC and the distant sounds of the world beyond the window. Then, she felt it—his arm brushing ever so lightly against hers, not touching, just close enough to feel his warmth.

“Good night, wifey,” he whispered.

The lights dimmed completely.

But sleep didn’t come easy.

Not for her.

Not with her mind replaying his voice, his words, his presence beside her. And not when the sound of his breathing was so close, so real, so unfamiliar... and somehow comforting.

She closed her eyes and told herself it was just a bed. Just one night. Just... a beginning.

Unseen to her, he turned his head slightly, watching her in the faint moonlight filtering through the curtain. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Scared little kitten, he thought. But you’ll get used to me.

Neither of them knew how their story would unfold.

But tonight—the first night—they were simply two strangers beneath the same roof, sharing silence, stolen glances, and the hesitant beginning of something that might just be love.

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