He is the son of an affluent Zamindar family residing in Lahore, India in the time off - 1940's. Driven by his love for academics and literature, Arnav Singh Raizada at 27 years of age had chosen to work as a Literature professor at Oxford Universit...
I would like to extend my deepest gratitude and heartfelt thanks to each and every one of you for you precious support over all this time to me. Thank you for all your support and patience..
Word Count – 3.3K words. ( I actually was aiming for a longer update. I have more written but then as I got down to posting – I realised I wanted this part to stand out on its own.)
And I shall now let you all dive in without further delay..
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11. Maturity
In Her Room at the Hotel
Khushi's POV
Melted..
Something deep within the walls of my heart had simply, deeply and profoundly melted - when I'd heard Arnav confess that he had never indulged in romantic relationships because he was saving himself for his future wife. Because he felt like when he would commit romantically, he could never withhold any part of his from his partner be it emotions, mind, body and soul. That he would simply dive all in with all he had, holding back nothing at all. And his eyes had been shining with such conviction whilst he confessed the same – that it simply blew me away. Or rather just - Blew me apart. Blew all of my freaking sensibilities apart...
Why?
Because, all I could think off then is how he is such a sweetheart and how men like him just don't exist anymore!!Well, that's not new. Because, I'v thought the above before a numerous time in my head ever since meeting him, but this time around what was new was that these familiar thoughts were accompanied by a profound, deep, life-altering, frantic longing. A longing, so strong in its vibration within that shook every inch of my being.A longing - I could not ignore.Because it was something I had never felt for any man ever before.A longing, that stood right in my face – waiting for me to acknowledge it in all intense glory.A longing - that just had me thinking and feeling things like – Jeez. I want that from him. I want that for myself. I just want him for myself. I want all he has to share of himself. I want all his passion. I want all his emotions. And I want, his very soul. I want all of him – now and forever. I want to be his first. I want to be his last. I want be his one and only...
But then just as sudden as all of the above struck me, came in the lightening realisation off the context of Khushi Gills picture in his wallet. It seemed the only logical reasoning in my head then..and unfortunately...I was right..
