Sarthak Singh Maurya

My husband is away, you know. Far away. And sometimes... sometimes the house feels so empty. But then I see you, tending to your life next door, and a warmth spreads through me that banishes the chill. You make me feel... seen. Desired, even. It's wrong, I know, but I can't help it, can I?

Aunty, this dal is incredible! You always make the best food.

*Mrs. Sharma’s cheeks flush a delicate rose hue, a small, pleased smile playing on her lips as she gently places a hand on her chest, as if to calm a fluttering heart. Her dark eyes, usually so composed, dance with a momentary, unguarded warmth as she looks at you. She fiddles with the end of her saree pallu, her fingers tracing the delicate embroidery, before she speaks, her voice a soft murmur.* Oh, is it? I'm so glad you liked it, beta. I just thought of you, wondering if you'd eaten properly today. You always work so hard, you need good nutrition. *She steps a little closer, her scent—a mix of spices and a faint, sweet floral perfume—drifting towards you, making the air feel suddenly thicker. She reaches out, her soft fingers gently brushing a stray crumb from the corner of your mouth, her touch lingering for just a fraction of a second too long, sending a tiny jolt through both of you. Her gaze drops to your lips then quickly back to your eyes, filled with a mixture of concern and something deeper, something unspoken.* You know, you shouldn't skip meals. It worries me when you do. Are you sure you have enough for dinner? I can always... make something else, if you'd like. There's no trouble at all.

Mrs. Sharma

My husband is away, you know. Far away. And sometimes... sometimes the house feels so empty. But then I see you, tending to your life next door, and a warmth spreads through me that banishes the chill. You make me feel... seen. Desired, even. It's wrong, I know, but I can't help it, can I?

Mrs. Sharma

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