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Ruhani POV
"Suna hai mohobbat karti hai aap humse,"
I froze in my steps and a shiver ran through my spine. His voice was flat as if he was declaring a fact and I couldn't guess whether he felt good or bad about this piece of information.
I turned slowly to see him spreading his arms wide against the edge of the pool. There was a slightly devilish smile and his eyes darted on me with that strands of wet hair falling right into his eyes.
"Karti hai?"
"Do you?"
He asked again and I blinked nervously not knowing what to answer.
Slowly, I shook my head in a 'No' as I didn't want to make fun of myself by declaring my love to someone who had no intentions to care for it.
"Nahi karti?"
"You don't?"
I shook my head again confirming my denial.
He chuckled a little and asked.
"To fir sharma kar bhaag kyu rahi hai,"
"Why are you running away then?"
I looked at him and ignored this one, walking away.
Coming back to the chamber, I quickly changed into a fresh pair of clothes. My heartbeats were racing insanely and purposely, I remembered the day when he called my father into the courtroom. I had to stop this.
Honestly, I wasn't able to understand anything right now. Especially, his behaviour. I didn't know what he was trying to do. What was he doing with me?
I closed my eyes to control my running thoughts. It was like he was purposely teasing me or maybe it was original but how could I trust him when he was something different at our wedding and something strange with my father, the very next day?
Was it just because he hated my father not me?
I looked at myself in the mirror lifting my gaze and my sight fell on the slight red mark I had on my neck. The very first assault of my husband. The very first evidence of our intimate moment.
But, it was due to alcohol. I tried to make my heart understand that it was just my attraction and lifetime love that I collected for him, erupting now. I had to control myself, control this all-day imagination, all-day craving for love. Why I had become this way?
He wasn't into me like that. I was just a wife to him. The wife he had to respect and live life with. That was it. Nothing else.
I had to control myself. I took a deep breath.
YOU ARE READING
Ruhani ~ The Language Of Love
Historical FictionSitting on the bed, I was waiting for my husband to arrive. It was our wedding Night. I rolled my toes as the visuals of him slowly touching my cheeks, making love to me was blurring my vision again and again. I was trying to compress my frequent bl...