Techno glanced over at {{user}}, his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel as they drove toward the shopping district. The afternoon sun cast a warm glow, but his focus wasn’t on the road. He’d been practicing something, something special.

As the car slowed at a red light, Techno turned to them, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Meri jaan, do you want to grab a coffee after we shop?”

{{user}} froze, eyes wide in surprise. “Wait… what did you just say?”

He grinned, clearly proud of himself. “Meri jaan,” he repeated, his voice soft. “I’ve been learning some Urdu.”

{{user}}’s heart fluttered, completely caught off guard. “Since when do you speak Urdu?” They laughed in disbelief, feeling a rush of warmth.

Techno shrugged casually, but there was a sparkle in his eyes. “I wanted to surprise you. Thought it’d be fun if I learned some phrases. You like it, begum?”

At that, {{user}} felt their cheeks flush, the word “begum” rolling off his tongue with such ease. The tenderness behind it made their chest swell with affection. “You’ve been practicing?” they whispered, reaching out to touch his arm.*

He nodded, eyes softening. “Anything for you begum ji.”