Sonder To Ikigai - The Freedom in Love.

🌠Homam🌠

Homam - a star name meaning  “man of high spirit” or “lucky star of high minded.”

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There was a world that is loved, rainbows and sunshine, flowers and plants, so bright and colourful. The rest for free for imagination. Bird's chirping, a beautiful river flowing... The simplicity. That's what it felt like. Siddharth and Sana, both of them in their night clothes, sitting inside a lit up boxing ring facing each other, holding hands, smiling as if the burdens of the world and rolled off, and engaged. Engaged. They were engaged. The countless times he called her his wife, and the countless times she called him her husband, just for the fun of it, it could not have matched up to this moment. This moment, wherein he fiddled with the ring on her left hand ring finger, and she had her little hand wrapped around his thumb, and they were in the sweetest argument with each other.

"I won't show you the other part." He said.

"It's my ring. I want to see it." She whined.

"Abhi nahi." He chuckled. She pouted, letting go of his hand to look at her own.

"I have never seen my hand look this beautiful." She whispered, kissing it. He threw his head back, laughing loudly.

"You are so beautiful." He said.

"Can we go home? I want to paint my nails, and I want to make love." She mumbled, still staring at her hand in awe.

He could stop smiling at this girl. 26 years ago, on March 15th, this pure angel was born. It almost made him feel like she was born to be loved by him. And he would, till the ends of this earth and till the great unknown wasn't so unknown anymore. He cupped her face, her gentle, doe like, elegant face that shined like a star... Her hair was messy, it was matted and messed up from falling asleep, her eyes were swollen from sleep but somehow, she was still the most beautiful. He pulled her closer by her face, she moved forward and his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her into himself. She was on her knees, in his lap in no time. The hand that was on her face slid down to her neck, she smiled like the moon would onto the water at night, so beautifully, their noses touched and she giggled when his fingers dug into her hip, tickling her.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart." He whispered. Her cheeks turned red.

"Thank you, sir." She laughed. She hadn't called him that ever since the overdose episode, because they didn't seem like just strangers anymore. His throat closed up when he heard her say it again. He dragged her face closer to his by her neck, pushing his lips onto hers. She felt the feeling, the grave intensity of this endearing kiss. She pushed herself closer against him, wrapped her arms around his neck fully and kissed him more fervently. Her palm laid on his cheek, cherishing him. They breathed heavily once they pulled away. She felt so good, di incredibly beautiful. She remained cradled in his arms and his hands caressed every part of her that they touched with such strengthening love. They remained in this cocoon before deciding to leave & go home. Sana of course, couldn't stop herself from clicking a few pictures in the boxing ring, some he clicked of hers, some she clicked of them both in selfies, and some, she clicked simply holding her man. Their home smelt like raspberries because of the new diffuser that she had ordered the day before in the morning, it arrived within a few hours. Porridge scuffled up to them and she giggled, picking up the big puppy and smothering his face with kisses and giving him love.

"Mumma and dada are engaged!" She giggled, squeezing him closer. Porridge, nerve the attention seeker that he was, he loved every second of it.

"What are going to do tomorrow?" She asked, her feet were in his lap as he painted the baby pink nailpolish onto her toe nails. Her hands were in the air, away from her own body as they dried. He was so good at everything. She had the smallest nails on her fingers, they weren't long and shaped like acrylics. They just went half a centimetre or a bit more above her fingertips, neatly trimmed and shaped with a bit of clumpy nailpolish because of the fact that he fiancé had painted then for the first time in his life.