"You shouldn't have to prove that."
"Maybe not. But I did anyway." She kissed him, slow and sweet. "And now I know. I'm stronger than I thought. We're stronger than I thought."
"We are," he agreed. "Together, we can survive anything."
"Show me," she whispered. "Show me we're alive. That we're here. Together."
He understood immediately. This wasn't about passion or possession. This was about connection, about reaffirming life after coming so close to death.
He kissed her with infinite tenderness, his hands gentle as they moved over her body. Every touch was reverent, careful of her bruises.
"Tell me if anything hurts," he murmured against her skin. "Tell me if you want me to stop."
"Don't stop." She pulled him closer. "Please don't stop."
He positioned himself above her, settling between her thighs. Their eyes locked, and when he entered her, it was slow and gentle and perfect.
"I love you," he said, his forehead pressed to hers. "I love you so much it terrifies me."
"I love you too." Her legs wrapped around him, holding him close. "You're everything to me."
He moved with slow, deep thrusts, each one deliberate, controlled. This wasn't about racing to climax. This was about connection, about being as close as two people could be.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "So perfect. Mine."
"Yours," she agreed. "And you're mine."
"Always." His hand found hers, fingers intertwining, pinning it gently beside her head. "For the rest of our lives, I'm yours."
When she said "I love you" again, he trembled, his rhythm faltering. The words still affected him like that—made him vulnerable in ways nothing else could.
"Again," he breathed. "Say it again."
"I love you. I love you, Sidharth. I love you."
He groaned, his movements becoming slightly faster, deeper. "I'm close. Are you—"
"Yes. Don't stop. Please don't stop."
They came together, crying out each other's names, their bodies locked in perfect synchronicity. The orgasm was intense but emotional, more about the connection than just the physical pleasure.
Afterward, he held her, his arms wrapped tightly around her, his face buried in her hair.
"I need to ask you something," he said quietly.
"Okay."
"Children. Do you want them? Eventually?"
The question surprised her. "I... I don't know. I haven't really thought about it."
"That's okay." He pulled back to look at her. "I just want to know where your head is. Because if you want kids, I want them with you. But if you don't, that's okay too. I just need you. That's all I need."
Advika felt tears prick her eyes. "I'm not ready. Not right now. Maybe someday, but..."
"Hey." He wiped her tears with his thumbs. "Whenever you're ready. Or never. It doesn't matter. You're enough. You'll always be enough."
"What about you? Do you want children?"
