The last night

Advika's Pov:

The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. My eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the soft glow, only to find myself cocooned in his warmth. His arm draped lazily over my waist, his body pressed against mine, and his slow, rhythmic breathing tickled the back of my neck.

For a moment, I stayed still, savoring the intimacy of the moment. The events of last night played vividly in my mind, and I bit my lip, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. Just as I tried to move, his grip tightened, pulling me back into him.

"Where are you sneaking off to?" his voice, deep and raspy with sleep, sent a shiver down my spine.

"I wasn’t sneaking," I replied softly, trying to keep my voice steady.

His lips brushed against the shell of my ear as he whispered, "Liar."

Before I could retort, he shifted slightly, turning me to face him. His eyes, still heavy with sleep but filled with something unspoken, locked with mine. His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, lingering just a little longer than necessary.

"Good morning," he said, his voice a seductive melody.

"Good morning," I managed to whisper, though my heart was racing under his intense gaze.

He traced lazy circles on my bare shoulder with his thumb, his eyes not leaving mine. "Did I mention how much I love mornings like this?"

"You mean mornings where you don’t let me get out of bed?" I teased, though my voice betrayed me, trembling slightly under his touch.

"No," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, "mornings where you’re the first thing I see, the first thing I touch."

My breath hitched as his hand slid down my arm, his fingers intertwining with mine.

"Vivan," I began, trying to steady myself, "we have a city to explore. Paris isn’t going to wait for us."

His lips curled into a smirk, and he leaned closer, his mouth mere inches from mine. "Let Paris wait. Exploring you is far more enticing."

Heat flooded my face, and I tried to turn away, but he caught my chin, holding me in place. "You’re mine, Advika," he said, his voice a husky promise. "And I’m going to savor every moment of us."

Before I could respond, his lips captured mine in a kiss that was slow, deep, and intoxicating. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a declaration, a reminder that I am his and he is mine forever.

I quickly pushed his arm away, trying to regain control of the situation. "We really should get up. The city awaits," I said, attempting to sound firm.

He leaned back with a lazy grin, folding his arms behind his head. "The city can wait. I’m perfectly happy right here."

"Vivan!" I exclaimed, exasperated, as I slipped out of bed and grabbed my robe.

His deep laugh followed me as I walked toward the bathroom. "You can run for now, but remember, Princess", he called after me, his voice playful yet dripping with seduction, "our honeymoon isn’t just about Paris. It’s about us. And I’m not done exploring you yet."

I shut the bathroom door behind me, my cheeks burning and my heart racing. If this was how every morning with him would be, I wasn’t sure how I’d survive.

Later in the morning, while Vivan was on a call, I wandered around the suite. My steps led me to the corner where the easel stood by the window, the canvas bathed in soft morning light.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I moved closer. The painting was vivid and full of life—me, mid-dance, wearing the fitted leggings and kurti from last night, my hands extended gracefully, the ghungroos on my feet captured in perfect detail. The background was a swirl of golden and crimson hues, almost like a flame, complementing the energy of my movements.

I stared, utterly captivated. It was so alive, so vibrant, as if I could step back into that moment just by looking at it.

"Do you like it?" his deep voice startled me, and I turned to see him standing by the door, his lips curved in a small, knowing smile.

"Like it? Vivan, it’s incredible." I looked back at the painting, tracing every stroke of his brush with my eyes. "I can’t believe you captured so much… emotion in one painting."

He walked toward me, his footsteps soft against the floor. "You looked… ethereal last night. It wasn’t hard to translate that onto the canvas."

I glanced over my shoulder at him, my heart warming. "Why didn’t you tell me you were so talented? Painting like this—it’s a gift."

His smirk deepened as he leaned in slightly. "You didn’t ask."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, now I’m asking. What else are you hiding, Mr. Raichand?"

He tilted his head, his expression playful. "Stick around, Mrs. Raichand, and you’ll find out."

I turned back to the painting, unable to stop smiling. "This has to go up in our home. It’s too beautiful to keep hidden."

"Only if you let me paint more of you," he teased, his tone warm.

I looked at him, narrowing my eyes in mock suspicion. "I have one condition."

"Let’s hear it."

"You’ll have to learn to dance next time," I said, crossing my arms.

He chuckled, stepping closer until there was barely any space between us. "If it means seeing you like this again, deal."

His words made my cheeks flush, and I turned back to the painting, pretending to focus on it. But when his hand slid around my waist, pulling me gently toward him, I gave in, laughing softly as I leaned into him.

Standing there with him, admiring the painting and feeling his warmth, I realized something—moments like these were the real masterpieces of our story.

Author's Pov:

Their last days in Paris were a blend of fun, romance, and unforgettable memories. They spent their mornings exploring charming Parisian neighborhoods like Le Marais, where Advika marveled at the boutique shops and cobblestone streets. Vivan indulged her love for pastries by stopping at every café, watching her delight as she tried éclairs and croissants.

Afternoons were filled with visits to iconic landmarks like the Louvre, where Vivan patiently listened as Advika excitedly discussed famous artworks. A boat ride on the Seine gave them a chance to relax and admire the city's beauty from the water, with Vivan stealing kisses when no one was watching.

Under the glow of the city lights, they stood on the deck, the chilly breeze making Advika shiver. Without a word, Vivan took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

“You always do that,” she said softly, looking at him.

“Do what?”

“Take care of me, without me even asking.”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I can’t help it. It’s second nature when it comes to you.”

In the evenings, they dined at candlelit restaurants, where Vivan’s fluent French left Advika in awe.Advika tried to pronounce the flavors in French, but her accent made Vivan laugh.

“Stop laughing at me!” she huffed.

“I’m not laughing at you,” he said, his voice full of affection. “I’m laughing because you’re adorable.”

One night, he surprised her by booking a private rooftop dinner overlooking the Eiffel Tower, where they shared heartfelt conversations and danced under the stars.

Advika’s eyes sparkled as she took in the grandeur of the iconic monument. “It’s even more breathtaking in person,” she whispered, her voice full of awe.

Vivan chuckled. “Not as breathtaking as you.”

She blushed, nudging him playfully. “You’re impossible.”

Paris sprawled below them, its charm visible in every winding street and distant landmark. Advika leaned on the railing, and Vivan stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“This is perfect,” she murmured, looking up at him.

“It is,” he agreed, his voice low, “but only because you’re here.”

Their playful sides came out during a day trip to Disneyland Paris, where they enjoyed rides, ate cotton candy, and even wore matching Mickey Mouse hats. They laughed like children, forgetting all worries.

On their last night, they revisited the Eiffel Tower, standing hand in hand as its lights sparkled.

Vivan pulled her closer. “Dance with me,” he said.

“Here? Now?” she asked, laughing nervously.

“Yes. Here and now.”

Advika leaned her head on Vivan’s shoulder, saying, “I’ll miss this place.”

He smiled, pulling her closer. “Paris will always be special, but we can make anywhere magical as long as we’re together.”

The soft hum of the ocean waves outside mingled with the quiet rhythm of their breathing, creating an atmosphere of calm intimacy. Vivan and Advika lay in the dim light after being exhausted after exploring each other, the room filled with the scent of fresh flowers and the lingering warmth of the night. Their honeymoon had been a whirlwind of stolen moments, but tonight was different—it was a quiet, deeply familiar space, the last night before they went back home.

Advika rested her head on Vivan's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Her fingers traced the lines of his skin, the same way they had countless times before. There was comfort in the touch, an unspoken understanding of each other's desires, the language of their love written in every soft caress.

"I never thought I would find love but here I am ," she murmured, her lips brushing against his chest. "In your arms, and I feel..." Her voice trailed off, a smile curling at the corners of her mouth as she lifted her head to look at him. "Like it's  just the beginning."

Vivan's eyes darkened with affection and something more—something raw that came from the depth of their connection. He cupped her face gently, bringing her lips to his. Their kiss was slow, the kind they shared when words weren’t necessary. The rhythm between them was like a well-rehearsed dance, their bodies already attuned to each other’s movements.

"You’re right," he whispered against her lips, pulling her closer. "It is just the beginning  And we still have so much more to explore together."

Their hands, sure and familiar, traveled over each other’s bodies, rediscovering every curve, every line they knew by heart. The passion between them was steady now, a flame that burned warm instead of wild, but still, there was an undeniable heat, a pulse that quickened with every touch. Advika's breath hitched as Vivan’s lips found the curve of her neck, trailing soft kisses along her sensitive skin. It was a familiar sensation, but each time, it felt like a new revelation.

"Every time with you," she whispered, her fingers threading through his hair, "it feels like the first time."

He chuckled softly his hands roaming over her back , pulling her closer grinding his lower body with hers and as soon as their naked bodies touched each other the passion ignited between them again and in few seconds the room is filled with their moans , marking their last day in Paris.

~Yeh haseen pal hi toh,

aaga jaakar yaad aata hai!!

Inhi yaadon ko yaad karka,

Saalon baad bhi hum muskuratein hai!!~

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