"Rudra Malhotra naam toh suna hoga ?"
Rudra is the epitome of charisma-outgoing, charming, and unabashedly playful. He has an infectious laugh and a quick wit that makes him the life of the party. His flirty nature often leads to playful banter and...
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I revved my bike, the engine roaring like a beast as I burst into the mandap, shattering the serene atmosphere. The setup was ready, the decorations a vibrant contrast to the darkness brewing within me.
I wore my helmet, the visor a shield hiding my face, my identity. The mandap's intricately crafted pillars blurred as I circled around, my bike a symbol of chaos.
Guests scrambled to their feet, shock etched on their faces. Some screamed, others cried. Pandemonium erupted.
My guards, stationed at the entrance, drew their guns, training them on the crowd. A chilling silence fell, punctuated only by the thunderstorm raging outside.
Banaras' sky had darkened, clouds swirling like my anger. Rain lashed down, drumming against the mandap's canvas roof. Thunder boomed, vibrating through my chest.
I circled the mandap seven times, each lap intensifying my fury.
My bike's tires screeched, leaving behind a trail of burned rubber. The smell of smoke and ozone hung heavy in the air.
Fear hung palpable, a living entity feeding off the crowd's terror. My guards stood firm, guns steady, as I continued my circling.
The storm raged on, rain pounding against the mandap like my heart pounding against my chest.
Lightning illuminated the dark sky, casting eerie shadows on the faces around me.
With each lap, my anger grew, fueled by Ruhanika's treachery. Seven times, I circled, each round a countdown to my reckoning.
I halted my Ducati before Ruhanika, the engine sputtering into silence. The sudden stillness was oppressive, punctuated only by the rain pounding against the mandap's canvas roof. Water droplets trickled down the fabric, creating a rhythmic melody that mirrored the turmoil within me.
Ruhanika gasped, her eyes locking onto mine, fear and panic swirling within their depths. Her irises, once bright with laughter, now dulled by trepidation. Her pupils dilated, drinking in the intensity of my gaze.
Her hands trembled, clutching the pallu of her red bridal lehenga. The intricate embroidery seemed to mock me, a reminder of the vows she was about to break. The red fabric, symbolic of love and commitment, now felt like a cruel joke.
My gaze devoured her, every curve, every contour. I memorized the slope of her neck, the gentle curve of her lips, and the softness of her skin. The red lehenga seemed to ignite a fire within me, a burning reminder of what was mine.
Anger and betrayal warred within my chest, each emotion vying for dominance. My heart pounded against my ribcage, threatening to shatter the fragile control I maintained. My eyes narrowed, drinking in the sight of her, searching for answers.
