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IVAAN SINGH RAGHUVANSHI ADHIRA ARORA
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It's 7:00 in the morning, and Adhira's excitement is palpable as she begins to get ready for Rakshabandhan. She's humming a lively tune, her voice filled with joy, because today is a special day - she's finally going to meet her brother after a long, drawn-out separation. The mere thought of reuniting with him brings a bright smile to her face. As she dresses in her favorite attire, adorned with vibrant colors and intricate patterns, Adhira's happiness is evident in every movement. Her brother, the symbol of protection and care, has always held a special place in her heart, and the anticipation of celebrating this auspicious day with him is almost too much to bear.
Adhira carefully applied the lip gloss to her lips, making sure to cover every corner. She then pressed her lips together, feeling the cool, smooth texture of the gloss. Next, she turned her attention to the mirror in front of her, where she admired her reflection. As she smiled, her eyes sparkled with satisfaction, and her full lips curled upwards, revealing a hint of pride. She blew herself a flying kiss, her slender fingers fluttering upwards, and exclaimed, "So damn gorgeous, Adhira!" The way she said it, with a slight tilt of her head and a playful glint in her eye, made it clear that she was thoroughly enjoying her own company.
As per Manyata's strict order, all the ladies of the Raghuvanshi Mansion has to wear saree for the Rakshabandhan celebration. She then walked over to the bed, where her saree lay neatly folded, a vibrant splash of color against the dull beige sheets. With a hint of resignation, she picked it up, feeling the soft fabric between her fingers.
She let out a deep sigh, her excitement and anticipation deflating like a punctured balloon. "Now only boring work is left, which is to wrap the saree around myself," she muttered, her voice laced with dissatisfaction. The delicate fabric, a vibrant shade of turquoise with intricate golden patterns, hung limp in her hands, its beauty now overshadowed by the tedious task ahead. As she gazed down at the saree, memories of her mother teaching her how to drape it perfectly flashed through her mind, but the nostalgia was short-lived, replaced by the daunting prospect of navigating the complex folds and tucks on her own.
She was about to drape the vibrant silk saree around her slender body, the intricate golden patterns shimmering in the dim light of the room, when the sudden knocks at the door interrupted her gentle movements, making her hesitate. The sound was firm but polite, suggesting that the visitor was someone familiar, yet she felt a flutter in her chest, a mix of excitement and apprehension.
Manyata's name escaped her lips as she murmured to herself, her feet carrying her towards the door as if drawn by an invisible force. Manyata's instructions still lingered in her mind, echoing the gentle reminder to assist her with the saree, a task that proved too daunting for her to tackle alone.
The moment the door creaked open, her eyes sprang wide with surprise as she took in the sight of Ivaan standing in the doorway, his piercing gaze scanning her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.
