Arshi FF: Iss War Ko Kya Naam Doon?

Iss War Ko Kya Naam Doon?(20)

Shantivan,

Arnav had just come out after freshening up and glanced at his burnt hand. He decided not to bandage it, thinking it needed some fresh air. As he looked at it, he recalled how Khushi had carefully bandaged it for him the previous evening.

Khushi sat on her bed, a pillow clutched under her chin, her eyes glued to the screen with fear and fascination. The eerie music from the horror series filled the room, making her heart race. Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Khushi's eyes widened in terror. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat, and instinctively pulled the pillow over her face, shouting, "Bhoot! Bhoot! Bhoot!"

(Ghost! Ghost! Ghost!)

Arnav entered the room, his expression full of amusement and concern. He tapped her head gently. "Khushi, it's me," he said, trying to calm her down.

"Bhoot! Bhoot! Bhoot!" Khushi's muffled cries continued as she tried to push away his hand.

(Ghost! Ghost! Ghost!)

"What the! Khushi, it's me," Arnav repeated, shaking her shoulders lightly. Slowly, Khushi peeked out from behind the pillow, her eyes wide with fear.

"Arnav?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Yeah, Arnav. Not any Bhoot. And why do you even watch horror series when you know you're such a scaredy-cat, Khushi?" Arnav rolled his eyes and turned off the TV.

Khushi's eyes widened as she noticed Arnav's hand on the remote. "What the! What happened to your hand?" she exclaimed, her voice rising in alarm as she saw the burn.

"Oh, this? Nothing. Just a little burn," Arnav replied nonchalantly, though the pain was evident in his eyes.

"But how?" Khushi's concern was palpable, her voice softening as she stepped closer, her own injured foot making her movements slow and careful.

"Lavanya," Arnav said, his tone flat, eyes avoiding hers.

"Your temporary secretary, right?" Khushi asked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion and worry.

"Not anymore. She spilled coffee on my hand and it burned," Arnav explained, showing her the poorly bandaged hand, the makeshift dressing doing little to hide the angry red burn.

Khushi shook her head, her nurturing instincts kicking in despite her own discomfort. "You didn't even bandage it properly. Let me do it properly, wait—"

Arnav interrupted her, his voice firm but gentle, filled with concern. "Stop. I'll get the first aid box. You can bandage me then. You shouldn't be moving around too much with your foot like that."

A few moments later, Arnav returned with the first aid box. Khushi carefully unwrapped the old bandage, her fingers gentle yet precise. She began to reapply it with care, her touch soft and soothing. "See, this is how one bandages a hand," she said, her tone a mix of pride and care, her eyes focused on her task.

Arnav watched her, a small smile playing on his lips despite the pain. "Well, I've only got one hand to use. So..."

Khushi scolded, her fingers working deftly to secure the bandage. "Didn't you have a tongue to ask anyone for help?"

Arnav watched her, his eyes softening. "I didn't want to bother anyone." Besides, how would I get a chance to get bandaged by you? He didn't voice his thoughts, instead, he gulped as he admired her tending to him. He had always loved it.

Khushi looked up, her eyes meeting his. She grumbled, "Arnav, tumhara kuch nahi ho sakta."

(Arnav, you will never change)