What If..

The Guesthouse Holds Memories?

Prabhas thanked the guard who opened the gates to his house and passed him the keys to park the car. The rest of the vehicles driven by his security and friends' that followed him rode off.

"I could use a holiday for sure! Where do we go?"

"You know, we're already at my most favorite place in the whole world," Sweety declared handing their son, who fell fast asleep on their journey back home, to Prabhas to fish out the keys in her bag.

It was a chilly December night when they returned to Hyderbad from Mogalthur, Prabhas' hometown, after a tremendous family get-together. They were supposed to meet for the Sankranthi festival in January but due to everyone's busy schedule, chose to gather earlier.

The chub nestled into nanna's neck rubbing his eyes with his tiny fist. Prabhas showered him with gentle kisses while rocking him back and forth.

"Sweety, be quick. I think he feels cold out here." He wrapped his arms around the little one ensuring to keep him warm.

"Oh no! These are the keys to our guesthouse."

"We can't wait for anyone to bring the keys now. Let's head there. The baby is shivering."

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Anushka walked into the room after tucking their eight-month-old into his cradle. Prabhas was lying on the bed in his shorts, eyes fixated on the pages of a book.

"Hmm, philosophy. All of a sudden?" his wife mocked rummaging through the closet to find comfortable loungewear.

"Oh my goodness! You still have these?" She pulled out a few Indian dresses, shirts, and a blue jeans pants. "I swear these won't fit me again in this lifetime."

The clothes were from back in the day when she used to hang out in this place. She remembered several incidents of leaving to shoot directly from here.

"Haven't you seen these? There are a few of your accessories are in the drawers." Prabhas peeked over her shoulder.

"No way!" She found a box containing earrings, bracelets, and bindis. "Don't lie. You kept these without returning them to me, didn't you?"

Prabhas shrugged nonchalantly "Maybe, maybe not."

She quickly pecked his lips and put the stuff away.

"Is that all I get for being this sensible?"

"Hold your horses, Raju garu. I'll be back after taking a shower."

"Bahh, it's the middle of the night and freezing cold. Why don't you think like me?" He crashed on the bed holding her in his arms. "Rani Devasena, Amarendra Bahubali is at your service."

"Devasena is exhausted. Her son already stressed her out enough today." Anushka swatted his hands.

"Bahubali knows how to destress his queen," Prabhas smirked, his hands fondling her body.

She snogged him passionately, running her fingers through his wavy hair and caressing his back. Giggling at the dirty jokes he cracked in her ear, long forgotten was her tiredness. They rocked with the rhythm of ardent pleasure without consent of hour, breathing heavily. She smiled at him joining their foreheads not minding as he hovered her for the third time that night.

A few minutes later, Sweety gripped Prabhas' shoulders asking him to pause.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

"Yuvaraja's call," she chuckled prodding her lover off of her.

He pushed her onto the cot again kissing her cheek, "I'll take care. You get some rest."