Pyar ek zaher hai aayara, aur ye kambakhat ishq , ek din zaan le lega ye meri .
kabhi naa kabhi to mujhe pta chalega ki tumhari aankhein aur tumhari baatein ek dusre se alag kyu hai.. aur tab tak.. sabr .. aur pyar .. pyar sikhaungi tumhe aur sabr...
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At 7 AM, Aayara slowly opened her eyes, the soft morning light filtering into the room. Her gaze instinctively fell on the man lying beside her, his head resting gently on her arm. Arjun, the ruthless and unyielding force the world feared, looked so different now—so peaceful, like a child lost in a dream. His grip on her waist was firm, as though even in sleep, he didn't want to let her go.
A faint smile tugged at her lips as she carefully moved his hand away, making sure not to wake him. Her eyes lingered on his face, taking in the sharp lines and features that usually wore a cold, hardened expression. But now, with his eyes closed, there was an innocence about him, a vulnerability she rarely ever saw.
Yet, the moment those light brown eyes of his would open and look at her, it would be different again. The warmth she longed to see would vanish, replaced by an unsettling emptiness. It was in those moments that she felt the deepest distance between them—his gaze a veil she could never fully penetrate.
She sighed softly, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. "You keep so much locked away," she thought to herself. "Why can't I find a way into your heart?"
Despite everything, she couldn’t deny the pull he had over her. Even with his aloofness, his cold exterior, she knew there was more to him—a part of him that, maybe one day, would open up to her. But for now, all she could do was wait.
She smiled softly, her hand instinctively rising to touch his cheek, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin. But just as her fingers were about to brush against him, she froze. His cold, harsh words echoed in her mind, "Don't ever touch me."
Her hand trembled mid-air, the weight of his warning pulling her back to reality. Aayara’s heart clenched, and with a shaky breath, she withdrew her hand, feeling a familiar sting of rejection. The distance between them wasn't just in his gaze—it was in every barrier he built between them, every wall he refused to let down.
She lowered her hand to her side, eyes dimming slightly. Even though he was lying so close to her, there was a part of him she could never reach. The vulnerability she had seen moments ago vanished, replaced by the cold, untouchable man she knew too well.
Aayara sighed quietly, forcing a smile to cover the disappointment that settled in her chest. For now, she would respect his boundaries, even if it hurt. "One day," she thought to herself, "maybe one day you'll let me in."
She stood up, running her fingers through her messy hair, trying to tame it. With a quiet sigh, Aayara glanced one last time at Arjun, still fast asleep. Shaking off the lingering thoughts, she made her way to the bathroom, the cool tiles beneath her feet grounding her.
As she stepped inside, she turned on the faucet, the sound of running water filling the small space. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, her tired eyes meeting her own. She splashed water on her face, hoping to wash away the remnants of the night—the confusion, the unspoken words, and the weight of everything unsaid between them.
Today, she would start fresh, even if the walls between them remained. For now, she had to focus on herself, on finding a way through the day.
Aayara stepped out of the shower, the scent of soap and fresh water lingering on her skin. She wrapped herself in a soft yellow saree, the fabric draping gracefully over her slender frame. As she dried her wet hair with a towel, she made her way to the cabinet and sat down, carefully arranging her skincare products.
Her fingers moved delicately across her face, applying cream to her skin, lost in her routine. She had no idea that behind her, Arjun had woken up. His light brown eyes were fixed on her, watching her every movement in silence.
There was something different in his gaze this morning, a softness that was rare for him. He didn’t say a word, but his attention was unwavering as she moved with quiet grace, unaware of the effect she had on him even in the smallest, most mundane moments.
The sight of her in the yellow saree, her wet hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders, stirred something in him that he couldn’t quite name. He remained silent, watching, lost in his own thoughts.
Arjun silently walked toward her, his presence commanding yet quiet as he stood just behind her. His hand rested casually on the back of her chair, but the weight of his presence made Aayara freeze. She could feel him, the intensity in the air between them undeniable.
Her eyes flickered to the mirror, meeting his sharp gaze, her heart quickening. In a reflex, her hand moved to hold her mangalsutra, the sacred symbol of their marriage. She clutched it tightly, seeking some sort of comfort or protection in that small gesture.
But then, with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, Arjun reached down and gently took the mangalsutra from her fingers, holding it between his own. His gaze never left hers in the mirror, a glint of something dark and possessive in his eyes.
"Yeh tumhaara hai," he murmured, his voice low and controlled, the hint of amusement in his tone impossible to miss. "Aur tum... meri ho."
The words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. He smirked again, watching her reaction, knowing the power he held over her in that moment.
