His Unwilling Bride | COMPLETED ✓

✿ BUTTERFLIES ✿

Adhrit's POV is up on scrollstack. My scrollstack username is:  autumntouched.stck.me

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RABYA

“Good morning.” I heard Adhrit's voice as soon as I opened my eyes.

A sharp headache hit me and I rubbed my eyes, getting up from the bed. “Good morning, Adhrit.”

“Why I'm having this bad headache?” I whispered.

“Have breakfast, you cried so much yesterday.” He replied, placing the tray on the bed.

I looked at the tray on the bed and found a warm cup of tea and toasted bread and butter.

I blinked in confusion.

“Uh, you'll feel better.” He added, gesturing towards the breakfast.

I nodded. “I'll go and brush my teeth—”

“Okay.”

I quickly rushed inside the bathroom and release the breath I was holding. The memories of last night flashed before my eyes when I kissed his hands.

God, this is so embarrassing.

I brushed my teeth and looked at myself in the mirror and cringed.

My eyes are red and puffy, drool sticking at the corner of my mouth, my hair looking like a bird's nest.

Not being able to see myself anymore, I splashed water over my face.

Adhrit must've seen my face in this condition. I squeezed my eyes, mortified.

So what if he saw me like this? It shouldn't bother me, right? 

I sighed. Offcourse, it does bother me.

Smoothening my hair with my fingers, I pulled a composed expression and walked out of the bathroom.

I sat on the bed and looked up at him. “Won't you eat?”

He shook his head. “Later.”

“Okay.” I whispered, grabbing the bread and stuffing it inside my mouth. It was slightly burnt and the tea, it had too much of sugar in it.

I scurried my eyebrows together and when I casted a glance at wall clock, I couldn't help but ask. “It's six in the morning. The breakfast is served by half past seven then how— I mean the cooks don't come this early.”

“I made this.” He cleared his throat.

My eyes widened in suprise. “You made this?” I licked my lips. “Thank you.”

His lips curled up into a small smile. “I put all the servents on leave today.”

“Why?”

He ran fingers through his hair. “We are going to cook the food together.”

“And why is that?”

“Do you not want to do it?” He asked back.

I shook my head. “No, it's not like that—” I paused, staring at the cup of tea. “It's good.” I added, gesturing at the tea.

“Don't lie.” He chuckled, softly.

“I'm not. The sugar is little more but with bread, the taste is fine.” I muttered, realising that I'm talking absolutely rubbish and it isn't only me who's awkward. He's behaving awkward around me too.