seven lakh four thousand eight hundred and twenty one

seven lakh four thousand eight hundred and twenty one

You ask me where do you see yourself in few years, I say *”With him.”* At midnight, with my eyes wide open, staring at this perfectly arranged skeleton of my husband. His eyes closed and he is probably not wearing anything(I am horny as fuck).

” Do you love me baby?”(baby is corny but oh well! Love does miracles to people.) I smile and move my hands around his oddly messed up hair. His eyes are closed and I stare at him with all the love I have and more. Just like the first time. When we had a straight seven hour talk about absolutely nothing particular. Not a typical “tell me something about yourself” talks. We talked galaxies and fears and what is dark? We talked deep and shallow and we talked about what is life to us. We talked passion too. Somehow, we knew the answer to each other’s “Tell me something about yourself.” And chose not to talk about it. Ever. And it was a first date. In pajamas and shorts. The look, the stare and the share of chemistry never faded. Not even for a second.

In seventeen years of togetherness, I asked him for the seven lakh four thousand eight hundred and twenty first time…
“Baby do you love me?”
His handsome face moved closer to mine. And his lips reached for my forehead. He then turned around and held me in his arms. He was sleep kissing. I know his sleeping schedule. His sleep is as sound as kumbhkaran’s sleep. While he did this, he whispered in my ears, “Do you want me to show how much for the seven lakh four thousand eight hundred and twenty second time?”

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Jinal Patel

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