𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀 : 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞|𝟏𝟖+ (Series #01)

32

CHAPTER 32 :
❀ SHAPING US TOGETHER ❀
________________________________________________

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Do not forget to vote and comment!

Don't forget to read the A/N at the end !

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

M I R A Y A' S P O V

"What are we shaping, Raghav?" I asked.

His thumb brushed over my cheek, his touch gentle, grounding. " Us, Love. Always us."

And then he kissed me, and I melted into him, my arms wrapping around his neck as I kissed him back, feeling the strength of him, the warmth of his body against mine.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine as we both caught our breath. His voice was rough when he spoke again, filled with so much emotion that made my heart feel more about him, "You're everything to me, Meera. Everything."

I blinked, tears pricking the corners of my eyes as I ran my fingers along his jawline, feeling the roughness of his grown stubble beneath my fingertips.

It's strange how I want to let him know that I've been feeling differently around him. This feeling to be with him, to have him as my life partner and to always be surrounded by him, makes my heart at ease.

I want to tell him everything. Everything about my past and I hope he accepts me with it. The things I've always kept to myself, need to be unveiled when I'll confess everything to him.

This time though I know, he's a good man, and I can never compare him with anyone, yet I feel scared to let him know about my feelings.

I know, it might be love.

Love? I'm not even sure what that four-letter word means anymore. It seemed so simple back when I first confessed what I thought was love-or maybe just an infatuation-for the one person who always smiled at me and stood by my side through the hardest moments in college.

Maybe this time it's not love. How could I possibly fall in love twice?

Or, maybe I'm just emotionally dependent on him.

And, now physically too?

"We still have a bowl to make, you know." His comment brought me back to reality, as I looked at the smirk on his lips.

I laughed softly, faking my expression, "Right. The bowl."

I cannot hurt Raghav anymore. I can never.

"Think you can focus now?" he teased, his hands resting over mine again, ready to guide me back to the wheel.

"With you distracting me?" I raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on my lips. " Not a chance, Mr. Singhania."

He chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead before settling back into the task at our hand. "I'll behave, I promise, Mrs. Singhania."

We worked together for another hour in peaceful silence, our hands moving in sync as we shaped the clay into something imperfect, something real. As the bowl slowly took shape, I couldn't help but feel that this was us. This imperfect, beautiful creation was a reflection of everything we had been through till now. When we finished, Raghav stepped back to admire our work.