Viren yawned, folding his blue coat over an arm as he made his way back to the hotel room. The past week had been exhausting with all the business meetings, all he wanted to do was go home. A small smile crept to his face as he thought of his wife and their phone conversation that afternoon. He missed her so much and she missed him too; he had loved teasing her over the phone, murmuring mischievous things to make her blush. He didn't need to see her to know she was blushing - he could hear it through her voice. He had told her he'd be home by tomorrow night and she told him that the family was planning a party for him, for his birthday.
Checking his watch, he sighed. It was 12:00 am, it was his birthday, yet he hardly felt like celebrating. What he really needed was his wife with him, smiling and blushing and wishing him, "Happy birthday, Virenji," but she wasn't there and it only made him feel even more disgruntled.
Stopping before the door to his room, he swiftly unlocked it and entered, shutting the door behind him with his foot and kicking off his shoes. He tossed his coat over a chair and began unbuttoning the sleeve cuffs of his white dress-shirt absentmindedly as he made his way to the bedroom, prepared to flop face-first on the bed and call it a day, when he stopped abruptly at the unexpected spectacle before him.
There, on his bland white hotel bed, were a myriad of balloons - blue, pink, green, yellow, purple, all hanging overhead, floating to the top with long ribbons dangling from them, attached to little square cards at the bottom. He approached the bed, confused, only to discover that the cards were actually photographs - photographs of him and Jeevika. He smiled as his gaze landed on each one of them; a shot of them at their wedding, one from Jeevika's birthday, one from their honeymoon...
"Happy birthday, Virenji."
He spun around in disbelief to greet his wife. She looked ethereal in a pale gold sari with her long dark hair falling over one shoulder, her lush mouth painted a tantalizing shade of red, holding a small, chocolate cake in her hands.
"Jeevika?" he approached her slowly, not completely certain of whether he was dreaming or not.
"I thought I'd surprise you," she smiled, "I didn't want you to be alone on your birthday."
"H-how?" he was hardly able to articulate a proper sentence, still drinking in the sight of her.
"Virat drove me," she explained, "I was missing you, so he suggested I actually come see you. So I made you this cake and we drove over as quickly as we could."
His gaze dropped to the delectable looking chocolate cake, frosted over and iced with the words, Happy Birthday Virenji.
"Aren't you going to blow out the candles?" she queried, looking up at him from beneath her long lashes.
He smiled and did as she asked, holding her gaze. "What did you wish for?
"Nothing," he responded simply, "I have all that I want right in front of me."
She smiled shyly up at him and his heart swelled as the realization finally hit him that she was really there and she had come all the way just for him. He picked up the knife resting beside the cake on the plate and cut a small slice, holding it up to her lips. She took a small bite and then set the plate down on the small coffee table, feeding him the rest of the slice. The edge of his teeth caught her fingers and she shivered; he couldn't resist holding her fingers to his mouth and licking off the remainder of the crumbs and frosting, before she pulled her hand away, all flushed pink and averted eyes.
"Come, sit," he tugged her over to the bed, entwining her hand with his, "I can't believe you're really here."
"I didn't want you to be alone on your birthday," she repeated softly, "So I came."
"You know, I was just wishing you were here, I was so tired and drained. And now, here you are," his thumb rubbed over her finger and he pulled her hand up to kiss the back of her hand gently, "I wasn't expecting such a surprise."
"I hadn't either, on my birthday," she reminded him of when he'd hastily made that bread-and-jam cake for her the night of her birthday and then brought Manvi for her, knowing there was no gift she'd like better. And now she'd done the very same for him - there was no better gift for him but her.
"I couldn't have asked for a better birthday gift," he voiced his thoughts with a smile, pulling her forward by their clasped hands to kiss her forehead. He turned around, lying back with his head placed in her lap, "So tell me, Mrs. Vadhera, how have you been in my absence?"
"I've missed you a lot," she admitted honestly, her fingers tentatively brushing through his hair, "Virat has tried to distract me as much as he could, but he knew I wasn't entirely happy, so he suggested I come to see you."
Viren hummed contently at the lulling strokes of her fingers, "It's only been a few days, you know."
"I've gotten used to you always being with me. I don't like sleeping on my own now," she added in a lowered tone.
"Is that the only reason you've missed me?" he couldn't resist teasing her, brushing her hair back from her face.
"Virenji..." she looked away, smiling, as she was wont to do.
"It's my birthday," he grinned, reminding her, "Doesn't your pati deserve a bit of affection?"
She hesitated and then looked back at him, continuing to run her fingers through his hair, "I've missed waking up in the morning and finding you beside me. I've missed waking you up for office and you teasing me that you'd rather stay at home. I've missed you coming home and finding me. I've missed talking to you, just like this; sometimes, you telling me not to worry so much, listening to my worries, giving me advice. I've missed eating meals with you at the table with the rest of the family. And I've missed you just being here with me, present."
He let the back of his hand fall slowly along her cheek, revelling in the way she leaned into his touch, "Have you missed this too?"
She said nothing, though her eyes spoke volumes, and his hand moved to slide through her hair, pulling her down by the back of her head. Her hair fell around them in a lush dark curtain and he inhaled the scent of her: sweet, subdued hints of roses from her shampoo, and that distinctly homey fragrance that was irrefutably his Jeevika.
His thumb stroked along the soft curve of her jawline and he pulled her down even closer so he could press his face to that sweet little hollow in her throat, his lips just barely brushing her already-fluttering pulse. His nose swept up the length of her neck and he left a faint pattern of kisses in its wake. Her entire body trembled almost imperceptibly, but he caught it because he knew her. He knew what made her smile, what made her blush, what made her shiver, what made her writhe. He knew her through and through because she was his Jeevika.
"A-aren't you going to eat some more cake?" she managed to say, halting his progress. He considered her with a small smile, his hand dropping from her neck. She leaned back, biting her lower lip and drawing his attention to it with a barely supressed groan.
"Well, if you made it, I guess I must," he decided with a chuckle, reaching towards the table and cutting himself a slice. He took a bite, chewing slowly, savouring the taste of it. His wife was an excellent cook and baker - the chocolate melted in his mouth, hints of cinnamon and vanilla in the mix adding a delightful edge. "It's amazing," he looked back at her.
"You're not just saying that, are you? Like you said about the kheer?" she raised an eyebrow.
"Well, you've already tried it yourself, but if you still don't believe me..." he held the rest of it to her mouth and she ate it, smilingly. He couldn't help himself, he swept one frosting-smeared thumb over her lower lip and without thought her tongue darted out to finish that off too. His eyes widened and that was it; he leaned towards her, capturing her mouth with his before she had time to react. She tasted like chocolate and cinnamon and vanilla; she tasted like Jeevika; she tasted like home.
Her hand rose up uncertainly to hover at his shoulder and he placed his hand at her bare back from where the blouse ended, his fingers splayed, pressing her closer to him. He kissed her gently, knowing what she liked, gradually building up the pressure like the tempo in a musical piece. When he pulled back to catch his breath, her eyes were heavily-lidded and unfocused, and he knew he had her. He drew her back to him, this time angling her head, catching her parted lips with his and the kiss was infinitely times sweeter, more potent, like well-aged wine. He had missed her so much and he let her feel just how much through his kiss, his hands running up and down the sides of her body, feeling her hum under his touch.
If he had been even the slightest bit tired before, he'd come to life now - just by having his wife, his Jeevika in his arms. "I've missed you so much," he murmured into her mouth as she let out a shuddering gasp of a breath. "Thank you for my birthday present."
"Your birthday present?" she mumbled, shaking as his lips fell back to her neck, darting his tongue over her pulse point and then blowing against it in a cool rush of air.
"You. You're my birthday present, aren't you?" The balloons had now scattered in every other direction, as he pulled her back with him onto the bed.
"I-I am?" she struggled to speak coherently - it wasn't easy when his lips were doing that against her neck, she was so hyper-aware of him.
"Mmhm. Aren't you here on my birthday now?" he laughed huskily - the very sound of it vibrating against her throat setting her aflame. She supposed there was logic in that, although she was very far from thinking rationally at the moment.
"And," he pushed her pallu aside, moving his mouth to her exposed shoulder, "don't I get to unwrap my birthday present too?" He grinned wickedly against her skin and she sucked in a sharp breath, "Virenji."
"Haanji?"
"Aren't you exhausted from work and meetings? It's quite late..."
"Not anymore...I've missed you too much."
"It's only been a few days," she threw his words back at him in a feeble protest.
"But it's my birthday," he quipped, meeting her eyes with his and halting all other objections she might have made. Her hand moved from his shoulder to his neck, to his cheek, tilting his face to one side.
She kissed his cheek gently, surprising him and whispered, "Happy birthday, Virenji."
"Thank you, love," he smiled.
If there was one thing he was thankful for on his birthday, it was having her in his life; a promise of this birthday and all his birthday to come, made precious by her very existence.
Happy birthday, indeed.
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