|𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐬 - 𝐈|
She was someone who likes to be in her shell and He was someone who likes to break all the shells.
"Junoon ban chuki ho tum. Ishq ki tapish se bhi tez aur pagalpan ki har hadon se paar. Is qadar beyhadh...
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*Edited. The earlier scene was platonic in his pov because that's what he has seen during his stay in London. But I guess it may appear otherwise So I edited it
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As the night started growing darker, Yami and Anubhav retired to their room. Mishika, with no will of staying in Aarav's presence any longer also stood up, but was startled when she felt him grabbing her elbow and jerking her around towards him.
"Wha_"
"Listen here carefully. Don't try to play all family family here. You and me are nothing so you better stay on your own." She visibly flinched as he grunted, inching his words, just before her face.
"Leave me Aarav." Trying to jerk him away she struggles to get away from his grip. Her face automatically morphed into abhor.
"You don't want divorce but can't even handle a little proximity." His eyes squinted and he let out his words with utter mock.
Aarav was surprised when he heard the humourless chuckle of hers. "You can't even measure how much I loathe to even breathe the same air as you." His grip on her elbow loosened even before he could realise.
The girl in front of him suddenly felt so unfamiliar and unknown. He could not even imagine that a sweet girl like her would speak with so much venom. Maybe because she never so freely vocalised her hatred towards him.
Mishika's chest was burning and tears collected in her eyes, but at the same time after the little burst out her chest felt light too.
With a hard shove she freed herself out of his grip and strides out of there. ~ ~ ~ Mishika yawned and stretched her arms and then switched off the alarm. Placing her feet on the ground she first looked up as if thanking God for another morning. After folding the duvet neatly she placed her phone on charge.
In the meantime her eyes fell on the bed which still looked neat and untouched, signalling that he never returned to the room last night. She let out a breath and ignored it and went to do her morning business.
Even though she had been staying there for a week, she still didn't bother to arrange her belongings in his closet. Picking out an attire for the day she marched back in the spacious bathroom. Hanging the clothes on the hook she turned the shower on to first settle the temperature.
A loud and startled gasp escaped from her lips and a sudden pain surged through her back because of being pushed against the tiled wall. Her body tensed up feeling his tall frame hovering over her. His one palm had her throat captive in its mercy while the other moved to the shower head settling it exactly upon them.
The shower running in its peak pressure drenched them in no time. She could make out the carving of his muscles through the clinging of the wet white t-shirt to his chest as he breathed like a beast. At the same time the realisation of her own clothes striked her. True to her thoughts the thin cotton kurta was sticking on her curves like a second skin.
