Trishalini ~ The Jewel of Mahabaleshgarh

28 ~ Eyes Do the Speaking

7K votes fast!!!

Abhinandan POV

I would never talk to her. I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, waiting for her to call me and say something.

She had to say something.

I saved her from getting married to Shantanu. He was not into her. How could she be angry over not getting married to someone she hardly knew?

He was a stranger and a soldier; for me, he could not be trusted.

However, I was someone she knew, a prince, and could be trusted.

She could trust me.

I would never hurt her or do anything she did not like. What was her problem?

I kept waiting for her to amend her mistake. She could not be rude to me. She was never like that. She always spoke with calm and delicacy with me.

I liked her that way.

As time passed, I felt dizzy and almost fell asleep, but she did not say anything.

It hurt me. It broke something in me. I felt as if I had forced her to marry me. Or maybe she was just angry with the way I married her.

But she should not be. Her father accepted us, and our family welcomed us. What was the problem?

"Trisha," I called out slowly.

I wanted to know the problem.

Turning around, I looked towards her. She was facing the opposite direction. And I slowly pulled the comforter down.

My breath hitched as my gaze fell on her shoulder and the back. I immediately looked away. Her blouse was smaller. I could see everything.

But the colour looked beautiful on her, and I brought my gaze back.

Her braid rested between us like a snake, stopping and threatening me to shift closer to her. The hem of her blouse curved perfectly along her edges. Only a single knot covered her back. It was beautiful.

Her waist was small. I looked at my palm, and a smile appeared on my face. It was perfect for my hands.

And suddenly, my gaze noticed the mole under her nape. It was dark, pitch black, and tiny. She was tanned, and the difference was visible through her arm and waist.

"Trisha," I called again. My voice hardly came out. I did not know even if she would answer what I had said.

She never answered. And I gulped silently, staring at her, noticing every minute detail of her shoulder, back and nape.

I could not dare to touch her. She was way too precious. She was way too pure.

The fact that she was to be a saint meant that lust, anger, greed, attachment and ego never touched her. I did not even know how I would make myself go near to her, let alone make a baby, that too when she was this angry.

It was not like she was denying to sleep with me. But, her using the words and intention of sleeping with me was threatening, not welcoming.

Suddenly, she moved, and my heartbeats raced. I immediately closed my eyes with fear. I felt her changing her sleeping side, and I opened my eyes once she was calm again.

My breathing slowed down when I saw her sleeping face. It was the first time I had seen her sleeping. Her eyes were closed, and the curved, thick lashes rested on her cheek. The almond and spotless glow on her face were attractive. I never knew that she could be this beautiful. Her lips made me inhale deeply, and I could not help but remember roses.