A cycle of falling in love, marrying, and falling out again leads to love.
Because love is the endgame.
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The Chauhan's are one of the most influential families in India. Having spread their ties to Healthcare, manufacturing, social service...
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The front gate opened and his ears perked at once. Placing the suitcase open on the settee, he dumped the heap of clothes he carried out of their closets. Instead of filling the neatly folded clothes, he ruffled them and sat at one side of the bed as the door parted, filling in the bag.
Or making a show out of it.
Vidyut noticed her frowning from his peripheral. Dressed and exhausted from another of her promotional events that she had been occupied with.
She cleared her throat. "Are you going somewhere?"
"Yes." He hummed uninterestedly, refusing to look at her.
"Where?" She peered inside the bag. His shirts and shorts waving back at him. "Somewhere hot?"
"Yes."
Her lips dropped and formed a pout at his cold shoulder. Murmuring a soft "Okay" she moved towards the closet.
He glared at the door and threw a t-shirt inside harshly, pinching his brow he tried calming his annoyance towards her.
The click from the door came after a long 25 minutes with him zipping his bag and placing it down.
She glanced at the bag and back at him. Sighing she made her way toward him and stopped infront. "Are you mad at me?"
"Did you do something?" Vidyut scoffed without glancing at her, standing he tried walking past her but she was quick to hold him back.
"I am sorry." She whispered pouting. Leaning her head against his arm, she closed her eyes and he let her. Shifting closer, he supported her head and stood still until she looked up. "Will you not look to me?"
"Why should I?" His eyes moved towards her and he cursed at his lack of control before giving up to her innocent face that had him wrapped around her little finger.
Her pout turned more adorable and he rolled his eyes stepping out of her hold. She tried grabbing him again but he was quick to pry her hold away. "Vidyut!"
Fisting his palms, he maintained the glare and placed his packed bag in the corner mocking her with silence at the unsaid questions she threw at him.
"At least tell me where you are going?" She nagged following him out. She checked the clean kitchen counter and refrigerator. "Did you not cook something? I'm starving."
"I am not your cook." He mumbled and saw her stomp her foot with a glare.
Yanking the utensils out of their designated cabinets, she almost tore the vegetables apart with the force she picked them.
Soon, she dived into cooking something which he prayed was edible to eat. The utensils clinked, fell, and banged together while he kept his attention on his phone scrolling through his work emails while sliding the things she would need without announcing his help.
