There was something about Sai, something in the way she moved in the world, that Virat could never help but watch her with abandon. She had a way of living in the world that was so unlike his own experience, that it moved him every time. It was as though the world around her only came alive when she burst into it, wide-eyed and vivid. Virat watched her in the garden, tending to flowers only Devi tai knew the secrets of. Sai's eyes lit up every time Devi tayi spoke to her, as if all the love in the world was stored in one person and Sai was grateful to be the centre of it. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but he could hear their soft giggles, a soft murmur to liven up his otherwise dull Sunday morning,
"Virat! Tu bhi aa na!" he heard his sister call for him. He shook his head, knowing that the sound of his name would annoy Sai into leaving. And he didn't want her to leave. He wanted to be able to watch her unabashed, drinking in the sight of her mud-soaked clothes and her sun-drenched laughter.
It had been a day and a half, 35 hours to be exact since Sai had deigned to acknowledge his existence. In retrospect, Virat was completely aware the fault was his own. He had shown up to her competition with a double-edged sword, and Sai had quickly realized his interest in her passing college dance competition.
You will never, ever see me as an adult, will you? You married me but you treat me like a child! The words had slipped through her venomous tongue and landed on him in the middle of an abandoned classroom. He had felt like a teenager again, tongue-tied and unable to explain why he had needed to vet her new friend. Sai had caught him interrogating Aniket outside of the auditorium and had dragged Virat by his wrist to an empty place. As she had dragged him away, Virat had no longer been worried of what her reaction would be, all he could remember was the sensation of her warm grip on his skin. Truthfully, he'd let himself be pulled away by her. Her heat, her explosive anger, had steadied him more than any answers from Aniket would have.
So he sat, quiet as a mouse, in the hopes that Sai would allow him the small pleasure of being in her presence. Since the night she'd lost herself, the night that she could not fully remember, he'd worked hard to be the person he realized Sai had needed. The air in his home was not any lighter, but he had become resolute in never leaving Sai completely alone to the wolves in his home. The atmosphere had changed as a result, and while he knew the change was only because of his presence around Sai, he took it in stride that at the very least Sai was not being unfairly put through the wringer.
Sai had begun to notice the change as well. He had caught her, more than once, lifting her gaze to find him somewhere in the same room, always there. She had been acutely conscious of his presence the first few days and then she'd become accustomed to him, as if he were a second skin she could not shed. If she was called into the kitchen for work, Virat lingered to do work in the dining room. If Sai was pulled into some other chore, he was not far from her. Almost always he offered to help Sai, and every time she refused him, shaking her head with a small smile.
"Sai, chal hum cupcakes khaate hai," Devi tayi said excitedly, pulling Sai by her elbow towards the house.
"Devi tai, Sai ko abb parna hai. Hum badh main cupcakes banaa leh ge," Virat offered, knowing that Sai had been anticipating a lab midterm in the coming week.
"Tayi, we'll make the cupcakes right now and then we can eat them later when I take a break from studying! How does that sound?" Sai counteroffered, not once sparing a glance at Virat.
He narrowed his eyes at his wife, knowing that there was no way to argue with her, but wondering of her intentions all the same. Devi didn't need a follow-up argument, she was already dragging Sai halfway to the kitchen by the time Virat had gathered his thoughts. He watched Sai and Devi excitedly pour out all their ingredients, Devi in charge of the dry ingredients and Sai in charge of the wet. Virat leaned against the kitchen entrance, becoming aware of the sun poking through the wide glass window behind Sai.
"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help us?"
For a moment, Virat had the decency to act genuinely in shock. He looked behind him in disbelief, wondering if Sai had called on someone else. But there was no one behind him and when he turned to meet her eyes, she was looking at him oddly.
She lifted a single eyebrow as if to say wordlessly say well? Virat uncrossed his arms and walked nervously to the kitchen island where all the ingredients had been laid out. He heard Devi clap happily and chant his name, but all he could feel were Sai's careful eyes on him. Wordlessly he came to stand before her, his back pushing against the countertop. Sai rolled her eyes and Virat had the crazy impulse to throw flour in her face.
Then she moved, and Virat felt the world stop around him. She moved closer to him, taking a step forward to grab something behind him on the countertop. Virat paid no attention to what she was looking for, he only had the capacity to follow the lines of her body. He could smell the soft vanilla scent of her shampoo infiltrating his senses. His body went rigid at her proximity and he pushed himself further back to get away from her.
But Sai Joshi was a cruel and fickle beast. With the apron in hand, she unfolded it completely, taking the top loop and placing it around Virat's neck. At once, he stopped breathing. If she had been close before, she was touching him now of her own volition and he knew if she didn't move he'd have to. He was thrown back into the memory of her placing a flower garland on him in anger, as if in protest, and he almost laughed at the absurdity of his own mind.
Sai silently took the hanging ties on either side of the apron and just as she went to tie them around Virat's back, he pulled away from her.
"Nahi," he said, flinching from the sharpness in his own tone. He cleared his throat, closing his eyes and shaking his head.
When he opened his eyes, Sai was inspecting him with a curious gaze and he felt a shiver run down his spine. "Nahi," he amended softly, "main khud kar sakta hoon."
Sai shrugged, turning away from him and Virat took a deep breath as she left his side completely. When he'd cornered Aniket, Virat had not expected the boy to be as self-aware as he had been. He also never expected Aniket to see through his false interrogation.
Aapko jealous honi ki koi zaroorat nahi hai. Sai kabhi mujhme interested nahi hogi.
As if Virat had needed reassurance from a 20-year-old, of all people.
And yet, he had. Because in that moment with Aniket, he understood completely why Sai had been so unwilling to give up her friendship with him. Aniket was so much like her. Carefree, happy, at times reckless. He told his truth simply, perhaps bluntly, but he carried himself the same way Sai did. There was so much vitality that it had seemed almost heavy in the air around him.
On autopilot, Devi tayi put Virat to work with mixing the ingredients. He folded naturally and Sai watched him with a shy eye. Sai hadn't caved since their argument at her college, but to her surprise, Virat hadn't forced her into conversation. They had spoken briefly the night before in bed, Virat apologizing for his behaviour and Sai nodding wordlessly at his confession. Sai didn't know what to do with this upgraded version of Virat Chavan, as if he'd downloaded a new software she had no idea how to navigate. Truthfully, Sai was waiting for one of his moods to take over again and for him to yell as he had before.
She watched him pour the batter into the cupcake divides, his easy smile lighting one up on Devi tayi's face. Sai admired that Virat was so wholly devoted to his family, perhaps to a fault. She knew that in the end, he would always choose them. And yet sometimes, selfishly, she hoped he would choose her too.
Sai helped clean the kitchen up, leaving it incredibly spotless. She took no chances in this house, knowing that a small misdemeanour would be considered a life sentence for her. Virat hovered around her, as he always seemed to do now, wiping the countertops clean. Devi had abandoned them both as soon as the cupcakes had gone into the oven, and they moved around each other in silence. Sai undid her apron, folding it into the cupboard she'd found it. But as she stood to full form at the cupboard, she felt Virat behind her reaching around her to place his own apron.
She turned abruptly and Virat caught her by the waist, pulling her into him to steady her. Sai's hands were at his chest, clutching his shirt in her tight grip. She immediately let go, muttering a soft sorry. But his hand at her waist did not disappear and the weight pulled her heart out of her chest.
"Thank you," she whispered and Virat thought for a moment he was living in his mind again,
"Thank you," she repeated as if sensing his disbelief at her words, "for being by my side."
It would be so easy, he realized, to admit his reasons for doing so. That he stood by her, silently, to protect her from not only his family but the man he became as a result of them. That being by her side was more for him than her. That he did so because the very fact that she so much as allowed him to even exist in the same realm of possibility as her, was enough to believe in any and every god. He understood now that Sai bloomed under love, affection and care. She reciprocated the same energy she received in kind. What he wanted, was for her to continue to exist in his home without the tense moments that had nearly destroyed her that night he'd held her hand.
That all of this was only ever to be selfishly by her side.
"It's all for you," he whispered, moving away from her so he could breathe again. "All I ever want is for you to be happy."
Sai smiled then, her genuine, brilliant smile, and Virat felt the tight anxiety loosen around him. She shook her head and tilted her head ever so slightly.
"Yeh bhi aapki zimmedaari thi? Yaan farz?" she asked, her voice light and airy.
The words seized something peculiar inside Virat, and he stood closer to her. Compelled by her, her scent, her sound, her eyes, he pushed a small lock of her hair behind her ear. Sai shivered from the contact, confusion spreading through her.
"Zaroorat," Virat answered, pulling his hand back. He stole one last glance at Sai, her eyes glazed over in confusion, her mouth slightly parted from the contact of his fingers on her skin. Virat walked away before he could lose another piece of himself to his wife.
____________________
A/N: After the slight anguish OS I wrote earlier, I was compelled to write this slightly sweeter one. My fav love stories are always the ones with immense angst, and SaiRat has that in spades. While this was certainly less angsty, it's still filled with the melancholy of 'will they or won't they' that seems to fill all of SaiRat's interactions. I also 100% believe Virat should be the one to fall first, his confusion and self-inducing angst will be a treat to experience. An oblivious happy Sai and a tortured acutely self-aware Virat? SIGN ME UP. I hope you enjoy!
comment:
p_commentcount