Aditya and Rohini are forced to marry each other due to a promise made for the business. They are enemies... Let's See how love blooms between them and they start to fall in love with each other, Overcoming their past.
Aditya: Rude and cold person...
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Their outfits
Aditya's POV:
The Sangeet was about to begin when she walked in, her silver lehenga catching the light like a thousand tiny stars. I'd been talking to a cousin, barely paying attention, until she entered. And then—I forgot to breathe.
Rohini moved through the crowd with a quiet elegance, as if she belonged to another world. The lehenga flowed around her, the soft silver shimmering with each step. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves, and there was a hint of something playful in her smile as she spoke to one of her friends.
It wasn't just the outfit; it was her. She carried herself with grace that pulled me in, held me in place, and made me forget everything else.
As she walked closer, her eyes met mine, and for a second, I wondered if she knew what she was doing to me. My gaze traced the delicate work on her blouse, the small dip at her waist, the intricate jewelry at her neck, and I felt a heat rising that had nothing to do with the crowd around us. I swallowed, focusing on a spot above her head, but it didn't help.
I wanted to reach out, to run my fingers along the silk, to pull her closer and trace my hands along the line of her back, feeling the warmth beneath that cool silver. - What the heck do I think she would probably think I am a pervert?
But it was her eyes that got me. They held a softness, a vulnerability that felt almost fragile, and my hands clenched at my sides, fighting the urge to touch her cheek, to whisper something stupid just to see her laugh. I tried to shake off the thoughts, reminding myself we barely knew each other. But God, with her this close, looking like a vision, it was impossible to focus on anything else.
She gave a small, shy smile, probably noticing the way I was staring. I was rooted in place, my mind running wild with thoughts I couldn't say out loud. My fingers tingled with the urge to hold her, to feel the delicate curve of her waist, to pull her close enough that there was no room for anything else between us.
It took every ounce of restraint to stay where I was, to act like I wasn't completely undone by the way her lehenga brushed against her skin, or how her lips curved so delicately when she smiled.
"Hey," she said, soft and uncertain, almost like she didn't expect me to respond. I swallowed, my voice rougher than I intended. "You look..." Beautiful was an understatement. Stunning, intoxicating—all of it felt like too little. I managed, "...incredible."She looked away, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.
And suddenly, I knew that if anyone so much as glanced at her the wrong way tonight, I'd have a hard time keeping my composure. This girl was supposed to be a stranger, someone I'd only just met. But tonight, seeing her like this, feeling this way—it felt like she was already mine.
