Kshitij got Kritika [Completed✓]

CHAPTER ~ 8

POV :~ KRITIKA

Sitting on my bed in the small hostel room, I could hear the faint hum of activity outside. The room was simple but comfortable, with a two single beds, a small desk, and a closet. My roomie isn't here, means she'll be joining us soon.

I really do hope that I get a good roomie, because it all depends upon her. Without a good roomie, I literally will be a piece of shit. My energy excites when it's paired up with someone who is as energetic as me, not lying - seriously.

I had just unpacked my things, but my mind wasn’t here in Gwalior; it was back at the train station in Bhopal. What? I just left my only family, my mother and my fiancee back at my city - it's all valid to miss them.

Kshitij had insisted on coming to drop me off, a gesture that both surprised and touched me, like honestly. Although he hadn’t spoken much during the ride, his presence was itself a big comfort. It felt like he was making an effort, even if it was just out of formality, for him, for me- it was much more.

I could still picture him standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the bustling station, when he came to drop me off.

No, I'm not drooling over him. It's just that, I feel good and by good - I mean really very good.

You know, it's all dependent upon your own choice. If a person don't want to come, he'll do any thing possible in his hands to not come. But if he comes, it means he wanted to, no matter how much his brain had asked him not to, but his heart wanted to.

He looked as composed as ever, but there was a certain tension in his posture as well. Maybe he was just as nervous about all of this as I was. And I really was nervous because although I've confidence but not sufficient enough that I'll not shiver or tremble whenever my fiancee will step near me, or our skin will brush with each other.

“Kritika,” he had said, catching my attention. “Do you have everything you need?”

I nodded.

“Yes, I think so. Thank you for bringing me here, Kshitij. It means a lot.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “It’s no trouble. Just be careful and,” he inhaled, his eyes fixed with me, “take care of yourself.”

Just then, the loudspeaker announced the arrival of my train.

People around us started moving towards the platform, creating a chaotic swirl of motion. As I picked up my bag and started towards the train, the crowd jostled us, pushing and shoving in the typical rush.

Suddenly, I felt a hard shove from behind. I stumbled forward, directly into the path of an oncoming luggage cart. For a moment, panic seized me, and I couldn’t regain my balance.

But before I could hit the ground, a strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back to safety. Kshitij had moved swiftly, his grip firm yet gentle. He steadied me, his eyes filled with concern. And for that particular moment, my heart, brain and my senses had stopped to work altogether. It was as if the world was revolving but we were still, yeah, just like Karan Johar movies.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice tense.

My heart was racing, but I managed to nod. "Yes, thank you." Letting out a soft laugh, I said, "That was close."

The man pushing the cart barely glanced our way, too focused on navigating through the crowd. Kshitij’s arm lingered around my waist for a moment longer before he let go, his expression softening a long with his beautiful eyes.

“You need to be more careful,” he said, his tone gentler now. “These stations can be dangerous.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “I will. Thanks to you, I’m fine.”

We walked towards the train together, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit more at ease with him by my side. He might not say much, but his actions spoke volumes. As I boarded the train, I turned to face him one last time before leaving. And my heart was like, dhak-dhak, dhak-dhak, yeah, ditto like the scene when Kajol as Anjali was leaving behind SRK as Rahul. Funny, I just hope my SRK doesn't marry some Rani Mukherjee behind my back.

“Thank you, Kshitij,” I said sincerely. “For everything.” Of course, he was doing everything for me. Giving a family to me, and my mother when I needed, no, actually, when we needed.

He gave me a small smile, one that reached his eyes. “Take care, Kritika. I’ll see you soon.”

As the train pulled out of the station, I watched him standing there, a steady presence amidst the bustling crowd. Despite the uncertainty that lay ahead, a part of me felt reassured. Maybe there was more to Kshitij than I had initially thought. Maybe, just maybe, this arranged marriage could turn into something real.

Settling into my hostel room now, I allowed myself to relax, thinking about the unexpected moments that life sometimes throws our way. Kshitij had saved me, not just from a fall, but perhaps from my own doubts as well. With a small smile on my lips, I looked forward to the journey ahead, both in Gwalior and in my new life with him.

~

POV :~ KSHITIJ

I sat at my desk, buried in paperwork, when my manager, Rishikesh, knocked and entered the room. He is an middle-aged man, dependable and efficient, someone I rely on heavily to keep the hotel running smoothly.

“Good evening, sir,” Rishikesh greeted me. “I have the latest financial reports for you to review.”

“Thank you, Rishikesh,” I replied, taking the folder from him. “Anything else I need to be aware of?”

“Yes, sir. We’ve received a few complaints about the room service being slow. I’ve spoken to the staff, but I thought you should know.”

I nodded, making a mental note to address the issue personally. “I’ll look into it. Anything else?”

“No, sir. That’s all for now.”

“Good. Keep me updated,” I said, dismissing him.

After he left the room, I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. It had been a long day, and my mind kept drifting back to the station incident.

I would not have gone to station to drop her if my mother had not insisted me that I drop Kritika off, emphasizing the importance of making a good impression. I wasn’t thrilled about it, but I couldn’t just refuse her after she asked me for five-six times. Besides, I didn't wanted her to feel that I was being forced into this relationship or any thing of such kind.

Deciding I needed a break, I stood up and headed to the open-air restaurant just outside the hotel, where I had met Kritika for the first time after our marriage was fixed. The night air was cool, a welcome contrast to the stuffy confines of my office. I ordered a coffee and found a quiet table under the stars.

I sipped my coffee, and I don't know why my mind slipped to think about Kritika again. I hadn’t expected to feel anything beyond the obligation of fulfilling my mother’s wishes, but something had shifted today. Seeing her nearly fall and my instinctive reaction to save her—it had all happened so quickly.

I remembered the panic in her eyes as she stumbled, the way her body had felt against mine when I caught her. It had been a reflex, an automatic response to someone in danger. But why did it linger in my mind?

“Kshitij,” my mother had said, “you need to be there for her. She’s going through a lot.”

I hadn’t given it much thought at the time, focusing more on my own reluctance. But now, sitting here alone, I realized my mother was right. Kritika was dealing with her mother’s illness, the pressure of a new job, and the impending marriage. She needed support, and I was expected to provide it.

Keywords : I was expected.

I sighed, staring into my coffee. Relationships had never been my strong suit. My experience with Hridya had left me wary and cautious. But Kritika—

With a deep breath, I finished my coffee and stood up. There was work to be done, both at the hotel and in my personal life. And the work that I needed to do in my personal life was much more heavy than my work life and all.