Amidst the bustling streets of Delhi, where the tantalizing aroma of street food intertwines with the delicate fragrance of marigolds, Anjali, a poetess who portray nature through her verses was lost in her thoughts, along with capturing the vivid scenes in her eyes where the soft twinkling wind swaying her hair, sparkling up her eyes with her soft plumped lips curling into a shyly smile. while reciting a poem when Suddenly a voice interrupts who was none other that the fruit vendor whom she called "Uncle"
Fruit Vendor(Uncle):" dear, what are you narrating today, lost in the gathering of memories?"
Anjali:"Uncle, nothing special today, but I am embellishing the solitude that lurks behind these bright, smiling faces in this bustling space," she said, her smile gentle." she said while softly smiling.
Fruit Vendor (Uncle): "Very good, my child! Very beautiful."
While anjali continued with her lines, all of a sudden wind swept away the paper from anjali's hand she suddenly gasped"oh no" she started chasing the paper while trying to catch it.Anjali's voice trembled as she implored, "Arre hawa, tham jao thoda!("Hey wind, hold on a moment!")" But fate had other plans.
She collided with a solid chest, her ink-stained hand leaving an indelible mark on the stranger's shirt. Their eyes met—a fleeting connection in the bustling streets of Delhi, where ink and fabric wove a silent tale of unexpected encounters.
Stranger:"What the fuck"The stranger's expletive tore through the air, causing Anjali to flinch at the sudden outburst. The ink-stained handprint on his shirt seemed to pale in comparison to the intensity of his anger.
Anjali's voice trembled as she implored, "I am sorry, so so sorry. I didn't mean to..." Her words hung in the air, a fragile bridge between ink-stained fingers and a stranger's anger.
Stranger:""Ugh, I have to go to the exhibition and... Aaahah," the stranger's frustration erupted.
Anjali:"I am wholeheartedly sorry; let me clean that up for you," she offered, attempting to rub the ink stain from his shirt. Her ink-stained fingers left faint traces behind when suddenly, a strong hand gently yet firmly grasped her wrist, leaving marks on her delicate skin.
Stranger: "Do you have any sense? You're trying to clean it with the same hand that will only spread the stain further!" he said, running his fingers through his silky hair behind his ears.
Anjali: "Sorry, sorry, I wasn't paying attention," she said, biting her lower lip out of nervousness and fidgeting with her ink-stained fingers when suddenly an idea popped into her mind.
Anjali: "Please wait here, I'll be back in a moment." But before she could take another step, a powerful pull yanked her back.
What will happen next? What will Anjali do? To find out, stay with me until the end. If you enjoy this, please leave a like and comment.
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Drenched Heart's || COMPLETED✔️||
Romance"Drenched Hearts" Anjali, a passionate poetess, and Aryan, the son of a renowned businessman, crossed paths at an art exhibition. Their first encounter was accidental-a splash of ink from Anjali's hand stained Aryan's shirt. But fate had other plans...
