His heart was a fortress, haunted by the warmth he pushed away, scarred by the silence he forced between them, all because he believed she deserved more than the broken pieces he could offer.
And, her heart was a battlefield, bruised by all the word...
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DISCLAIMER: The story is set in the early 20th century. While I have made efforts to capture the essence of the era, there may be inaccuracies as this is a work of fiction. I do not own the characters Arnav and Khushi, and this story is purely fictional with no relation to any real individuals, living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
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"I'm hungry. Let's go out to eat tonight," Khushi suggested, as she and Arnav lounged on the sofa, both worn out from their earlier activities.
"But we need to shower first. Let's save some water, Mrs. Raizada."
Before Khushi could react, he swept her off her feet. She yelped in surprise, as his strong arms carried her towards their bathroom.
After a while, they found themselves sitting across from each other in a nearby Indian restaurant. Arnav looked at her amusedly as she ordered to her heart's content.
"Kadai paneer, tarke wale daal, sarso ka saag, rasun aur dhaniye ki chutney umm....haan jeere wale chawal, naan aur haan makhan wala naan." Then she looked at Arnav expectantly. "Don't tell me you will only have water," she teased, causing him to break into a grin.
