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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🦋🥀💠
As the minutes turned into hours, Aayara lay there, her heart heavy with longing and regret. She missed the warmth of his body next to hers, the way he used to envelop her in his protective embrace. With each tick of the clock, the emptiness beside her grew more pronounced.
Finally, unable to bear the distance any longer, she cautiously shifted closer to him, wrapping her arm around his torso. She nestled against him, hoping for a sign that he still felt something for her. But Arjun remained motionless, his breathing steady and deep, as if he were miles away in a world that didn’t include her.
Aayara’s heart sank, and she bit her lip, fighting back tears. “I know I messed up,” she whispered softly into the dark, as if confessing to the night itself. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… I just wanted to fit in.”
She pressed her forehead against his back, feeling the solid warmth of his body. It was a bittersweet comfort that reminded her of everything she cherished about him. “Please, Arjun,” she pleaded softly, wishing he could hear the sincerity in her voice. “I want to fix this. I need you to know I care.”
But all she received in return was silence, deepening the ache in her chest. She closed her eyes, willing sleep to take her, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day and that somehow, they could find their way back to each other.
___________________💠
Aayara stirred slightly at the sensation of his touch, but her subconscious was too deep in sleep to register the chilling words he had spoken. Arjun's gaze lingered on her tear-streaked face, a mixture of anger and disappointment swirling within him. He felt a pang of something—perhaps guilt or regret—but he quickly buried it under layers of resentment.
“You think you can just walk back into my life and act as if nothing happened?” he murmured to himself, frustration simmering just below the surface. “You had your chance to be my wife, Aayara, but you chose to embarrass me in front of everyone.”
With a scoff, he shifted away from her, creating a distance that felt both necessary and painful. He watched as her brows knitted together in her sleep, her lips moving slightly as if she were dreaming. For a moment, a flicker of tenderness flashed in his eyes, but it was quickly overshadowed by the anger he felt for the humiliation she had caused him.
“Prepare yourself,” he muttered, half to himself. “If you want to be treated like a wife, you better start acting like one. Otherwise, you’ll see just how low I can bring you , slave to wife or wife to slave , I will decide.”
He turned away fully, the weight of his own words pressing down on him. He hated feeling this way, but he felt betrayed and lost, and he was determined to make her understand the consequences of her actions. As he closed his eyes, he was consumed by a darkness that mirrored his thoughts, readying himself for the storm that was about to unfold.
The tension in the room thickened as they both lay there—one lost in her dreams, the other stewing in anger—two hearts drifting further apart in a mansion filled with unspoken words and shattered trust.
______MORNING -----
Aayara blinked away the remnants of sleep, taking a moment to adjust to the morning light filtering through the curtains. Her heart raced as she turned to the side, hoping to find Arjun, but the space beside her was empty.
Just then, the bathroom door creaked open, and she caught sight of him stepping out, a towel draped low on his hips. Water droplets glistened on his skin, and he ran a hand through his damp hair, tousling it slightly. The sight was both breathtaking and jarring, igniting a flurry of emotions within her.
“Good morning,” she said tentatively, her voice barely above a whisper.
He glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable. “Morning,” he replied curtly, turning away to rummage through his wardrobe. Aayara felt a lump form in her throat at the coldness in his tone, a stark contrast to the warmth she craved from him.
She bit her lip, wanting to reach out, to bridge the growing chasm between them, but the weight of yesterday’s events held her back. She remembered the laughter of the guests, the humiliation she had felt, and how he had reacted.
Arjun slipped into a fitted shirt, the fabric clinging to his muscles, further heightening her awareness of him. “I have meetings today,” he stated, keeping his back to her. “You’ll need to take care of things here.”
Aayara nodded, her heart sinking further. “Arjun, about last night…” she began, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.
“Let’s not discuss it,” he said, his voice firm. “You’ve already made enough of a scene.”
The words stung more than she expected. Aayara felt a mixture of anger and sorrow boiling within her, but she held her tongue, not wanting to provoke him further.
“Right,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice steady. “I’ll just… get started on breakfast, then.”
As she moved to leave the room, she felt his gaze on her, a flicker of something—perhaps regret—before he turned away again. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving her to navigate the silence and tension that lingered in the air.
Once in the kitchen, she took a deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts. She had to do something to mend the rift between them, but how could she when he was so closed off? Aayara decided to pour her energy into making his favorite breakfast, hoping it would remind him of the warmth they once shared.
Yet, as she worked, her mind raced with uncertainties. Would he even notice? Would it be enough to change his heart? All she could do was try.
