BEDIL SHERGILL || ✔ ||

[11]: Pain And Pretense

Next Day

Drishti was walking down the hallway, lost in thought, when Simran suddenly dashed past her in a hurry. Startled, Drishti stumbled, her shoulder slamming into the rough surface of the wall. She gasped as a sharp pain shot through her, the sensation of skin tearing unmistakable. A quick glance down revealed blood beginning to seep through her saree, staining the fabric.

Simran turned around, her eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God, bhabhi! I'm so sorry-I didn't see you!"

Drishti forced a smile, even as the pain throbbed with every heartbeat. "It's nothing, really." She replied, her voice gentle. "Don't worry about it."

Simran hesitated, guilt clouding her features, but Drishti gave her a reassuring nod before turning and heading towards her room. The moment she closed the door behind her, she let out a shaky breath, her hand instinctively going to her injured shoulder. She winced, trying to ignore the growing pain as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

Just then, the bathroom door swung open, and Rakshit emerged, his hair damp, his chest bare, wearing only a pair of pants that clung to his frame. Drishti's eyes widened in surprise before she quickly looked away, a flush creeping up her neck.

"Can't you knock before you come out?" she snapped, her tone sharper than intended.

Rakshit smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"It's my room and my house. I can do whatever I want."

Drishti rolled her eyes, crossing her arms defensively.

"Ofcourse Mr. Shergill. How could I get forget? Very typical of you. The great Rakshit Shergill, ruler of all he surveys, too important to bother with basic decency."

He leaned against the doorframe, clearly enjoying their banter.

"Decency? From the woman who barged into my life and turned everything upside down?"

She shot him a withering glare. "I didn't barge in. You just weren't paying attention, as usual."

The tension between them crackled like electricity, their words laced with sarcasm and something unspoken beneath the surface. Drishti stood abruptly, intending to escape the growing intensity, but as she turned, Rakshit grabbed her right shoulder, his fingers pressing down on the exact spot where she was injured. The sudden jolt of pain made her gasp, and she instinctively tried to pull away.

"Don't touch me!" she hissed, her voice trembling slightly.

Rakshit's grip tightened, his expression darkening with something close to jealousy.

"Right, you don't like it when I touch you. But you're so close with my brother, aren't you? You two share a great friendship."

Drishti met his gaze, her eyes blazing with defiance despite the pain. "Yes, I am close to him. Because your brother is good-better than you in every way. And yes, we share a great friendship."

His eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw clenching.

"Oh really? Do you like talking to him that much?"

"I do!" She snapped, but the pain in her shoulder was becoming unbearable. "Now let go of me! Just... let go."

He released her hand, watching her with an inscrutable expression as she walked away, her breath unsteady. He stared at his hand, now stained with blood, his heart skipping a beat. Panic flickered in his eyes as he quickly checked his own body, but realization hit him like a punch. "Mrs. Shergill is injured?" he murmured, his voice barely audible, a mix of surprise and concern.