Jeevika Vadhera perused through the boxes in the storage room in search for the book her husband was looking for. She paused for a moment, breathing a little more quickly than normal, sighing. She definitely wasn't as young as she used to be.
"Did you find it yet?" Viren called from the adjoining room.
"Not yet," she replied, "I don't know why you'd think it would be in here anyway, with all the dust."
"Well, it's nowhere else," he defended.
Shaking her head at the absurdity of men and their sudden whims, Jeevika pulled out the box in the corner, landing on the floor with a heavy thump. The lid was stuck momentarily from years of disuse and neglect, however with a tug of her fingers, she had it loose and discarded it on the floor. Peering inside, she smiled at the contents.
Folded neatly on top in a clear protective covering, was her bridal lehenga, no longer richly bright in colour, but sending waves of nostalgia flooding through her. She pulled it out carefully, laying it on the floor beside her, as well as her jewellery set, packed closely underneath. Viren's wedding attire had been stowed inside as well; she unzipped the bag and was greeted with a whiff of his favourite cologne- the one he still wore. And there, at the very bottom, was their wedding album.
She hefted it out gingerly; it was covered in a thick film of dust and she blew on it, sending a little cloud into the air. Well, that hadn't been a good idea. She was immediately wracked with a series of coughs, her eyes watering.
"Jeevika?" Viren's anxious voice resounded in the small room.
"I'm fine," she called back, but he had already arrived with a glass of water, putting a hand to the small of her back and tilting it to her lips for her.
"Don't worry about the book," he decided, "There's too much dust in here, I can ask one of the servants or-" His gaze snagged on the album in her lap and he settled down beside her on the floor, "Is that our wedding album?"
"The very one," she smiled at him and he smiled back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen forward. He had always loved her hair, waist-length and silken soft...although now, she mostly tied it to keep it out of her way. She also had a nagging suspicion there were more grey threads in it than black now, although Viren always determinedly avowed that she looked as young as she was when they'd first gotten engaged. She remembered when she'd considered cutting it. Viren had struck up such a fuss, you would have thought she was shaving everything off, she remembered amusedly.
He had aged remarkably well, she thought with a critical eye. He hadn't needed glasses, his vision almost-perfect. Yes, he had as many grey hairs in his hair as she did and there were laugh lines etched into the skin around his eyes, but he was still as physically attractive as she'd first found him.
"You're staring at me," he smirked. Evidently age had not made him immune to flattery.
"I was counting your wrinkles," she remarked dryly. It was an empty jab and they both knew it.
He continued on, unperturbed, "I'm still quite a handsome man, I know. You can stare at me if you want, I don't mind." He most certainly didn't.
"You shouldn't. I'm your wife, in case you had forgotten."
"I could never forget." He smiled that devastatingly beautiful smile of his that never failed to make her knees go weak. Not that it took much to make her knees go weak at her age anyway, she mused, turning back to the album.
"You're blushing," he stated.
Well, age hadn't made her immune to flattery either.
"I should go check-" she began to get up, but he caught her wrist naturally, "Sit down, sit down. I want to look at this."
"You can look at it if you want, but I'm going-"
"No, you're not going anywhere FMji. What needs to be taken care of will take care of itself. Sit down with me for a little while," he tugged her down, nestling her close to his side.
"Okay," she conceded, "Just a little while."
He turned the page carefully, his glance alighting on the photograph of her in her bridal wear. "You looked so beautiful," he smiled.
"Looked?"
"Still look," he amended hastily, "You're still the most beautiful woman in the world. But, I remember seeing you in this and thinking that this beautiful woman was going to be mine, today."
"I wasn't even sure the marriage rituals were going to be carried out, what with all the chaos," she said, interrupting his reverie.
"Oh, yes, Manvi," he remembered with fond amusement, "She still hasn't changed much."
The distant raised voices of the said woman and her husband clamoured from above the room. "No, she definitely hasn't," Jeevika laughed softly.
"What could they possibly be fighting over now?"
"I think she hid his spectacles. He can't read the music notes without them, you know."
Viren shook his head, "Some things never change. Anyway, where were we?" he flipped another page.
"You were getting married to the most beautiful woman in the world, I believe."
"Ah, yes. Oh, look, here's me."
"You looked so confident, that day," she smiled.
"The only thing I was confident about was that I was getting married to you. If there had been a single more delay, I would've probably just picked you up and hauled you over to the priest. Ah, youth," he shook his head in fond recollection, "It was such a simple thing to make you blush those days."
"As I got older, I grew wiser."
"Mmhmm...you still can't quite resist my charm, however," he tucked his chin into the crook of her neck, wrapping his arms about her waist.
She only smiled, turning the page. There were the photos of them garlanding each other. "It all went by in such a blur," she mused, "I hardly knew what was happening around me."
"Oh, I had a very clear idea," he replied, "Although, my thoughts hovered more around the idea that the sooner you were my wife, the better!"
"Not that you took advantage of that title as soon as it had been bestowed," she chuckled, "I distinctly remember you abandoning me on our wedding night."
"I certainly took advantage in the days after," he murmured into the hollow of her throat.
She wriggled in his arms, blushing, "Virenji!"
"Alright, alright..." he turned the page with her, to where he was tying her mangalsutra around her neck. Jeevika's hand unconsciously rose up to finger it, where it hung around her neck.
They pointed out the various photographs that stood out the most in memory and smiled at each other, recollecting the days from long ago. Jeevika's fingers pressed over the photograph of them standing together finally as a married couple.
"There's something that hasn't changed since then," Viren pointed out.
"What's that?"
"You and me. I still love my Fikar Minister just as much, if not more...On that note, you still worry yourself over needless things just as much as you always have," his tone turned slightly scolding, "It'll do no wonders for your heart, I'm telling you."
"Tell that to my heart. It can never stop worrying about you," she rejoined.
That made him smile. "Never?"
"Do you think that's ever going to change?"
"Marriage is an eternal vow. It means that you'd never stop worrying about me, I'd never stop romancing you. It means that we'd never forget one another and it means that through all our fights, we'd always come back to one another eventually. It means forgiveness, faith, friendship. It means we'd love each other for eternity. So no, you'll never stop worrying about me, I'll never stop romancing you."
She smiled, brushing back his hair with her fingers. She could almost see him, as he once was, young and so handsome. Still handsome. She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, calm and steady, in tandem with hers, as though they were a single entity.
"Virenji?"
"Haanji?"
"Happy anniversary."
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