Head over Heels ☑️

Chapter 7 - Khushi

🎶Nasamajh - Aditya Rikhari

The Raizadas left an hour later, shouting down Bua-ji's insistence on having lunch at the Gupta household.

Khushi's family collapsed on the couch, exhausted but pleased with the turn of events. Khushi on the other hand, felt the exact opposite. She escaped to her bedroom, citing a headache and lay curled on her bed.

"We need to talk. Meet me at the Sarojini Viewpoint in an hour."

She had refused point blank to follow his request, it felt more like an order to her, she had cut the call before he could finish. There was nothing left to be said.

Khushi knew at some point she would regret this, but she couldn't shy away from the prodigious fact that they were now bound in more ways than one, evading his presence would be next to impossible in the future.

There was a knock on the bedroom door, Khushi sat up heavily and asked whoever it was to enter.

Ji-ji walked in and sat on the bed next to Khushi, a moment's hesitation was all it took before her face split into a wide grin and she snuggled into Khushi's arms.

Khushi's heart sang at her sister's elation, they stayed like that for a while, Khushi stroking Ji-ji's hair - questions could wait, neither was in a hurry to shatter the quiet warmth that enveloped them.

Amma and Bua-ji walked in next, Bua-ji announced that their father had been informed of the happy news. They collectively rejoiced at the fact that he would be arriving in New Delhi in two weeks' time.

"We should go and take Devi Mayya's blessings," said Amma, her eyes still not dry from the day's events. "If we leave in a bit, we won't be missing the afternoon aarti."

Bua-ji boisterously agreed as Ji-ji went to change into a salwar suit. Khushi maintained her excuse of nursing a headache, though it seemed to be materializing into reality, and excused herself from the trip.

"You've been so pensive lately," said Amma as Khushi waited at the door to send them off. "Do you need anything from outside?"

"Yes," said Khushi with mock contemplation. "A truck load of Devi Mayya's blessings!"

"Pagli," said Amma and urged her to lock the place once they leave. Khushi agreed and saw them off to the gate. They hailed an auto rickshaw and were gone. Khushi's face fell soon after, pretenses could wait. Looking forward to a nap, she turned around to head back into the house.

Khushi's heart stopped- Arnav-ji stood by the door, his hands clasped behind his back. Her foot hovered over the steps, frozen in place.

"Won't you invite me in, Khushi? The neighbors are watching," he said in a low voice as he gazed at her steadily.

Sensing there was some truth to it, she evaded Shukla aunty's eyes and hurriedly moved forward to open the door. She stepped aside as Arnav-ji strolled in. She closed the latch with trembling fingers.

Khushi turned around to find him setting a gift wrapped package on the table. Her curiosity piqued but she shuddered to focus on him.

Arnav-ji surveyed the living room, his eyes not surprised at finding it empty. Khushi couldn't help but concede that it had all been part of his plan, his visit was timed too perfectly to be entirely coincidental.

His gaze settled on hers, they stared at each other, the air zapped with electricity. It wasn't the first time Khushi had been alone in his presence, but the atmosphere was charged with an almost clandestine energy.

"You shouldn't be here," squeaked Khushi, anxiety coiling tightly around her, her mind darting between the neighbors outside and the impending arrival of her family—though her true concern was consumed by the man standing before her.

Arnav-ji tore his gaze from her to open the package, it revealed to be a fabric of some sort, neatly packed in plastic wrap. He took a step forward and caught her hand and held it open, he deposited the box on her palm.

It was a beautiful saree, with similar coloring as the one she wore - though slightly more elegant; metallic in tones rather than glittery.

Arnav-ji raised his hand towards her, she took a step back clutching the box. He hesitated and clasped her pallu instead and brought it to her eye level.

"In exchange for your troubles," he whispered, indicating the ruin caused by her mishap earlier; the oil stain now resembled the map of New Delhi. She snatched her pallu away and glared up at him.

"I don't need your help, such gifts are better appreciated elsewhere I'm sure."

She stormed to the table and repackaged the saree. She held it up to him without looking and continued, "Please take this back. I have nothing more to say."

"Why?" asked Arnav-ji, his voice barely suppressed a dangerous tremor. His silken voice sounded much closer to her ear. "So that you can have some kaun-kiska prospect buy you gifts?"

Khushi's eyes snapped to his, defiance obliterating all thought.

"Yes," she bit back and side stepped him and headed to the door.

"I won't let that happen!"

Khushi heard the tumultuous rage burned in every syllable of that snarl. She turned around fiercely, her hair whipping his chest.

"And why is that? How does it matter to you anyway?"

Arnav-ji grabbed the package from her hands and threw it on the table where it skidded to the other end. His hands clamped on her arms and she felt her back hit the door, passion flared in her core at the burning inferno induced by his touch.

"It does matter to me, damn it! Because I-"

He stopped abruptly. Khushi's shock was reflected in the crystal clear depths of his eyes.

Their chests heaved collectively, Khushi roved her gaze all over his face, her memories of his form failing to justify the real deal. His chiseled jaw worked as his gaze dropped to her lips, wiping her mind blank.

Arnav-ji's face drew closer to hers, painfully and agonizingly slow. His fingers trailed up her arms at the same pace to cup her face.

His warmth spread from her cheeks to her entire body. Her lips trembled in anticipation as she closed her eyes, her hands fisting in her saree.

Arnav-ji's lips grazed hers, his hot breath fanning her mouth, soft as a whisper, the briefest touch of a kiss.

Blood surged in Khushi's core, she exhaled parting her lips and leaned into him, her hands drifting up to find the warmth of his chest. But just as her fingertips reached him, the sharp ring of his phone shattered the moment, making her jump.

Arnav-ji drew back, horrified. Khushi's head spun with mortification, the reality of the situation came crashing to her, what had she done?

They stared at each other for a single heartbeat, though it felt like ages to her. Arnav-ji opened the door and was gone before she could react.

The empty living room seemed to close in on her. She hugged herself from the crushing confines of her emotions.

Harboring feelings was one thing, but acting on them when the man's heart was already claimed by another-

Khushi let out a soft, frustrated whine, as if the sound could shield herself from the wave of self-loathing that pulsed through her veins.

Beneath the weight of the undeniable truths, she couldn't ignore the inexplicable bond between them, forged the instant their paths had crossed. It was as if a cosmic force pulled them together, an unseen energy they could neither ignore nor fully understand.

With heavy steps, she moved to pick up the saree on the table - a token of what once was and can never be.

She angrily burst into her bedroom and threw open her wardrobe - she hugged the package one last time, vowing to never open it, burying it deep in the confines of her personal space along with her feelings.