Equations Of Love

16

"Every day is a fresh start"

DIYANSHI'S POV

When his mom went downstairs, I closed the door, feeling a surge of anxiety. "How are we going to sleep in the same room?" I anxiously asked Ayushman, my voice betraying my discomfort.

He looked at me, a small smirk playing on his lips. "By closing our eyes," he said with a chuckle.

I glared at him, irritated by his joke. "There's not even a couch," I pointed out, frustration seeping into my tone.

"Are you planning to make me sleep on the floor?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I had actually considered it, but I couldn't admit that to him. "Did I say that?" I retorted with as much confidence as I could muster.

He shook his head, the smirk still on his face. "I'm going to get refreshed," he said, heading towards the washroom.

"How can you leave without solving the issue?" I shouted after him, but the bathroom door closed, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I stood there, contemplating various ways to arrange for two rooms, but none seemed practical. Finally, I decided to create a makeshift barrier. I gathered all the pillows and built a fort dividing the bed into two distinct halves. When Ayushman emerged from the bathroom, I pointed at the pillow fort and said, "I'll be sleeping on the right, and you'll be on the left."

He glanced at the arrangement and nodded. "Okay," he said, almost too casually.

Why was I upset by his easy acceptance? I looked at him more closely and realized he wasn't wearing his shirt. His ripped abs and muscular chest were on full display, each contour of his body defined to perfection. His shoulders were broad and strong, his biceps well-toned. His torso tapered down to a lean waist, and the slight sheen of moisture from the shower made his skin glisten in the dim light. Every muscle seemed to flex with the slightest movement, and I couldn't help but be mesmerized by his physique. I want to touch it.

I mentally slapped myself, chastising my thoughts. How could I have such impure thoughts about him, especially now? I glanced up to find him already looking at me. A wave of embarrassment washed over me.

"Are you done?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"What?" I stammered, my heart pounding.

"Are you done staring at my body?" he repeated, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I want to sleep now."

"I wasn't staring at your body," I insisted, though my voice wavered.

"Then what were you doing?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

I was speechless, caught in my own lie. The room seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. I turned away, unable to meet his gaze any longer. The tension between us was palpable, and I knew that whatever was happening between us was far from over.

This awkward exchange, laced with underlying attraction and unresolved conflict, left me feeling more confused than ever. I climbed into my side of the bed, turning my back to him and closing my eyes, willing sleep to come and take away the tumultuous thoughts racing through my mind.

The next morning, I awoke with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. It was the day of the Haldi ceremony, and I knew I had to put on a brave face. I rummaged through my suitcase and pulled out a yellow saree. It was a beautiful shade of sunflower yellow, vibrant and full of life. The blouse that accompanied it was a long-sleeved, backless design with intricate embroidery on the sleeves and neckline. Various delicate strings crisscrossed the open back, adding a touch of elegance and sensuality.

I slipped into the saree, the fabric flowing gracefully around me. As I tried to tie the strings of my blouse, I quickly realized that my hands couldn't reach the intricate knots at the back. Frustration built up as I fumbled with the strings, feeling helpless.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Ayushman stepped in. He paused, taking in the sight of me struggling with the blouse. "Need any help?" he asked, his tone casual.

I hesitated, my pride battling with the need for assistance. Finally, I relented, feeling a flush of embarrassment. "Yas, please," I said softly, turning my back to him.

Ayushman approached and began to tie the strings, his fingers deftly moving through the delicate knots. Each brush of his fingertips against my skin sent shivers down my spine. I cursed inwardly, wondering why I was the only one affected by his touch. I glanced over my shoulder at Ayushman, who seemed completely unfazed by the situation. He was focused, his expression neutral.

Why was I the only one feeling this way? Was it because we have already had our kiss? To him, it must not have been a big deal. The memory of our kiss flooded my mind, making my face grow warmer. I felt my cheeks burning, the color spreading.

Ayushman finished tying the last string and stepped back. "What's wrong?" he asked, noticing my flushed cheeks.

I quickly turned around, trying to compose myself. "What do you mean?" I asked, my voice more defensive than I intended.

"Why is your face red?" he asked a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"It's... it's just blush," I stammered, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Are you sure?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

His question hung in the air, and I found myself at a loss for words. I couldn't admit that it was the memory of our kiss and his proximity that had caused my reaction. I nodded, forcing a smile. "Yas, I'm sure."

Ayushman gave me a long look before nodding. "Alright then," he said, turning to leave the room.

As he walked away, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and frustration. Why did he have to be so calm and collected when I was a bundle of nerves? I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. There was a whole day ahead, and I needed to focus on the festivities and not on the confusing emotions swirling inside me.

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