She came home a little late that evening. Rubbing her sweaty forehead, cursing the heat, she sank into a chair, fanning herself with her hand.
For about five minutes, she ranted about her day like she did every evening- how annoying her boss was and how she didn't get time for lunch.
Oh boy! She talks so much. Continuously. And so dramatically.
He loves it nevertheless. The way she rolls her eyes while talking, flares her nostrils, shrugs, throws her mane back with an almost unnoticeable shake of her neck.
"Hey..." He started, clearing his throat.
He didn't know how to make it sound romantic like the hero in her favourite movie nor did he know beautiful words she would love to hear.
Many times he had wondered if she would get bored of him or she was already! Was he too plain and predictable for her? Did she secretly crave for romantic surprises like every woman? He always stared at her while they watched her favourite romantic movies on TV. She would have an innocent dreamy smile on her face, her eyes gleaming at the happy couple on screen. He wished he could make her smile like that. He wished he could afford diamond rings, candlelit dinners every other night and holidays on the blue green beaches. Just to see her smile through the tears of happiness.
She looked at him curiously, her eyes bulged in quite a childlike way.
He opened his closed palms and held them before her.
A bunch of tiny Madhumalati flowers. Pink and white frail petals with delicate long stems. Just like those in her phone wallpaper he knew she loved. He had collected them on the way home that evening, from a small vine growing on a building gate.
"Oh! From where did you..." she exclaimed and stood up to face him. He shuffled his feet nervously.
"I never really got you a nice gift or a surprise since we got married... In fact I couldn't give you anything better than what you already had. This house for example. I promise I would afford the diamond rings for your fingers one day," he whispered, "but till then... All I can say is I really love you."
She giggled with the tears shining in her eyes, just like- he particularly remembered- when she had watched one of the female characters proposing the guy in her favourite show FRIENDS the other day.
He had turned her speechless tonight. She just kept looking away, smiling. For the first time he realised her weird habit of averting eyes and rubbing the tip of the nose when she was emotional. All that incessant blabber was just a cover for her emotional self that she kept hidden.
She picked up the flowers from his hands, put them aside and buried her head in his chest.
He giggled, smelled her hair to his heart's content and kissed the top of her head. The fragrance of Madhumalati- not sweeter than her hair's though, tickled his heart. Tonight he was going to let her know what she meant to him. Unlike her, in fewer words.
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