Please Vote and Comment guys🫠🙏🏻

Mannu's POV

The kitchen smelled of fermented rice and high hopes. I was standing at the stove, squinting at a YouTube tutorial on my phone, determined to prove that I could handle a tawa as well as a textbook.

Suddenly, a pair of warm arms slid around my waist, and I felt the weight of Dhruv's chin resting on my shoulder. His presence was like a sudden surge of electricity.

"Dhruv... I need to make these dosas," I whispered, my heart already doing a little dance.

"Go ahead," he chuckled, his breath warm against my neck. "I'm not holding your hands, am I?"

I tried to focus, pouring a ladle of batter onto the pan. But my hands were shaking, and I spread it too thin. Within seconds, it was a charred, sticky disaster. "Hooo... I checked three different videos! I did everything right! Why did it stick?" I groaned, feeling like a total failure.

Dhruv let out a soft laugh. "The batter is fine, Mannu. It's the temperature of the tawa. Move over, let me teach you."

I blinked, stepping back. "You? You know how to make dosas?"

"Of course," he said, stepping behind me again. "Cooking isn't a gender talent, Mannu. It's a survival skill and live skill. Everyone should know how to feed themselves."

He didn't move away. He stayed right there, his chest against my back, his hand covering mine on the spatula. His other hand rested firmly on my waist, pulling me close. As he guided my hand in a slow, perfect circle, his head stayed tucked into the crook of my neck. I couldn't even think about the food; my stomach was full of a thousand butterflies, and my face felt like it was on fire.

When the dosa flipped perfectly-golden and crisp-I let out a squeal. "I did it! My first perfect dosa!" I started to do a little happy dance, spinning around in his arms like a child.

Dhruv caught me, his eyes dark and full of a heat that had nothing to do with the stove. "You did it," he murmured, his face inches from mine. "But... where is my teaching fee?"

He leaned in, his gaze dropping to my lips. My heart stopped. I closed my eyes, waiting for the world to vanish-but then, his phone blared from the counter. It was Aman, the hospital attendant.

"Medical emergency, sir. We need you in the ER," the voice crackled.

The spell broke. Dhruv sighed, pressing a quick, lingering kiss to my forehead before grabbing his keys. "Saved by the bell, Mannu Sahiba. Keep that fee ready for when I get back."

I stood in the kitchen, blushing like a teenager, staring at a plate of dosas and feeling like the luckiest girl in the universe.

Dhruv's POV

Driving to the hospital, I could still feel the warmth of her against me. For years, I had been the "Calm," the cold surgeon who focused only on the heart as an organ. But with Mannu? The heart is a restless, beautiful thing.

She is my wife, my partner, and my everything. Seeing her dance over a simple dosa made me realize how much I had missed by being away for so long. Every time she blushes, every time she dances, I fall in love with a different version of her. I don't just want to be her husband; I want to be the man who ensures she never loses her spark.

Anant's POV

Back in Knowledge City, the air felt heavy. I had spent the last three days rehearsing words that felt more complicated than a multi-billion dollar merger. I was a mess. The "Cold CEO" was officially malfunctioning.

I made a flimsy excuse to keep Krithika late at the office, claiming we had "urgent projections" to review. By the time we walked out to the office grounds, the sun had set and the stage was set.

I signaled the technician, and suddenly, the sky lit up with silent, golden fireworks-her favorite color. I turned to her, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I thought it would crack a rib. I dropped to one knee, ignoring the cold ground.

"Kittu," I said, my voice surprisingly steady for a man who felt like he was dying. "We've fought as rivals, we've worked as partners, and we've survived the hail storm. I don't want to win another rank. I just want to win your heart. I love you. Can I be your soulmate?"

I waited for the "Yes." I waited for the hug. But as I looked up, I saw Krithika's face. It wasn't full of love; it was full of pure, unadulterated panic. Her eyes were wide, her breathing shallow. She looked like a deer caught in high-beam headlights.

She let out a sigh, but no words came out for a long time. Then, she took a step back and walked away.

She turned and ran toward her car.

Author's POV

The office grounds grew quiet as the last of the gold sparks faded into smoke.

She hadn't said no, but in the world of high-stakes emotions, a walk-out is the loudest silence of all. The "Love in a Hail Storm" had hit a frozen patch, and for the first time, Anant Mishra didn't have a backup plan.

This leaves the tension at an all-time high. Does Kittu go to Mannu to talk, or does she try to bury herself in work the next morning to forget it happened?

Stay tuned guys. Please leave a vote if you like the chapter