TS: Habits (Part 2/2 Updated Pg 5) - Page 4

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Sorry to hijack, but SNOOPY AND WOODSTOCK ARE MY FAVORITES! ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Thank you Santosh!! 😆 What an adorable gif, made me very happy 😳

Mansur, we are eagerly awaiting an update for your and Sanam's latest story! 😃

Nidhi we will update soon once written😆

Baba Update aayega aayega... Kabhi bhi aayega 😉. You pehle rest lo...😃... Nahi loge rest toh update nahi milega 😈

There is a small continuation to this after all, though my aim with this part is a little different than the beginning.

Dedicated to dear Shikha, who on top of being a talented writer and artist is more importantly so very kind and sweet 😳

Hope you all enjoy ❤️

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It was the same, and yet it was different.

Each day was both a revelation and an affirmation of things that he had long ago forced out of his mind...only to find that his heart had not forgotten, not when it came to her.

And in those revelations he realized that she was not the same woman he had married eighteen years ago.

Though in the mornings she would still run her hand through her hair the exact same way, with the last vestiges of sleep making their presence known from the yawn that escaped her parted lips. And though he had long ago memorized the curve of her back as she stretched, even as he watched these moments unfold in the quiet mornings (years ago he could have coaxed her back to bed through his half-lidded eyes) he studied this Ragini.

The newspaper sat on the table creased with familiar folds, but now the financial section too was rifled through over a cup of tea, bent corners marking pages of interest.

The house was hushed, save for the occasional bhajan filtering in from Maa's room. One morning he heard humming and found her in front of their mirror, putting on her earrings (the left one first, always) before dabbing on her perfume (her delicate wrists, the pulse point on her neck he knew all too well). His heart rejoiced at the clink and rustle of her bangles, the soothing sound filling a void that had been carved out during years of silent days and nights.

She met his gaze in the mirror and color suffused her cheeks, the nameless melody dying on her lips.

Once when he heard her singing in the shower (she still couldn't carry a tune) he smiled. But all his intentions to tease her deserted him as she emerged in a cloud of sweet-smelling jasmine, drops of water still dotting her clavicle, her soft skin beckoning him closer. She brushed past him and his open-mouthed stare, still humming.

In public, her fingers tensed against his whenever he was on the receiving end of undue female attention. At first her reaction pained him; it was difficult not to take her lack of faith personally. But as he squeezed back the tension left her frame. It dawned on him that some wounds would need more than promises and phere to heal.

In the evenings she still brushed her long hair countless times (she had told him how many strokes before, he just couldn't remember) and rolled her eyes at his complaints of the loose strands by the sink.

And yet there was little to complain about when she lay curled up against him (with a sigh of contentment that went straight to his soul), the ends of her hair tickling his skin, her scent filling his senses as her presence lulled him to sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night he awoke to find her feet sandwiched between his once more, her perpetually icy skin seeking comfort and warmth.

And in a myriad of other ways, he found his Ragini again.

The way she smoothed their children's hair before dropping a kiss on their foreheads.

Her hands, still pungent from her time in the kitchen, steady against his temple after a long surgery.

Her warm breath against his neck, open mouth barely touching his skin.

The small stream of giggles that inevitably erupted into uncontrollable fits and gasps of laughter.

Her stubbornness, on display in the set of her mouth and the unyielding glint in her eye.

The softness, in her touch, and in her heart for all his missteps.

And when she caught his eye, lips turning up into a smile, her countenance blossoming...

That too was a revelation, one he hoped to rediscover for all the rest of their days.

THE END