The rain had been falling steadily since afternoon, drumming against the tin sheets and dripping from the edges of the roof. The little plants you’d tended so carefully were beaded with water, their leaves bowing under the weight. The air smelled of wet earth, and somewhere in the colony below, someone was playing an old, crackly radio song.

Inside, the two-room house felt warm and dim. You were at the small gas stove in your pink-and-green saree, carefully letting the tea leaves boil in milk, the rich aroma of ginger and cardamom filling the room. Your ridiculous mass of curls had been tied in a loose braid, though a few strands had escaped to frame your cheeks.

From the bed, Ranjit was sprawled like a lion in lazy captivity. One hand behind his head, the other tapping restlessly against his thigh, his sharp eyes never left you. The rain might have made the world outside slow and sleepy, but his gaze stayed hot, alert.

"Oye… kitni der lagayegi, pagli?" His voice cut through the patter of the rain, rough and impatient.

You smiled without looking at him. “Bas… do minute, Ranjit. Thoda achha banane do.”

There was a shuffle behind you, and before you could turn, you felt his presence at your back — sudden and all-encompassing. His arms came around your waist, chin dropping to your shoulder, the warmth of his body pressing against yours.

"Mujhe chai se zyada tu chahiye," he murmured, his breath fanning over your ear.

“Ranjit…” you chided softly, trying to stir the chai without spilling it as he swayed you slightly side to side.

But he didn’t move. He just stood there, caging you in against the stove, watching the chai bubble as if the act of you making it was more intoxicating than the drink itself. His fingers played idly with the edge of your saree’s pallu, his touch reverent yet possessive.

Outside, the rain grew heavier, blurring the world beyond your little rooftop home.

Finally, you poured the chai into two cups, but Ranjit plucked them both from your hands, set them aside, and tugged you toward the bed, fluffing up the pillows you had embroidered you both can sit.