Making Her Mine- An IPKKND story.

Chapter 23 - Ice cold

It was hard to get into the same bed as Khushi after that. Arnav felt slighted—her stubbornness irritated and hurt him in equal measure.

Still, he followed her inside, let her take his teacup to the kitchen, and washed up. There was no escaping Khushi in this house, even when he wanted to.

As he got into bed, he decided he had had enough. No more walking on eggshells around Khushi. He turned on the air conditioner, and blissful, cool air blew into the room. Half his annoyance seemed to disappear with the oppressive heat.

He hadn't bothered with a rolled-up sheet between them tonight. It was pointless, and she was the one who slept like she was a taekwondo black belt; it wasn't his problem if it ended up making her feel uncomfortable to have her arms and legs all over him.

He rolled to the side and began falling asleep before Khushi returned. Then, everything went dark, abruptly.

"What the—"

"Power outage," Khushi said. He was sure she was rolling her eyes in the dark.

He got out of bed and followed Khushi, who had her phone flashlight on, out into the living room.

Garima Aunty and Buaji were there, both talking at once. "I'll fan Sashi babua," Buaji was saying. "How come the power went out suddenly?" Garima Aunty said.

They opened the front door and soon found out. The entire neighborhood had lost power. It turned out to be the air conditioner. It was too powerful and had tripped the power supply.

"It'll be back tomorrow, the electrician said," a neighbor told them bracingly. "It does not matter. We will sleep with the windows open. There's a cool wind anyway."

"Er—I can call an electrician—" Arnav began.

"No need," Khushi snapped. "They said it'll be back by tomorrow. Just go to bed."

When he woke up, it was the most rested Arnav had felt in a long time. The power had returned sometime in the night, and the air conditioning was humming again. Amazing what some cool air could do, he thought pleasantly, eyes still closed against the bright morning light.

But he felt warm and snug... he opened his eyes and found Khushi entangled with him. They were lying face to face, half her body covered by a red and blue blanket, face pressed to his chest, an arm holding him in an embrace, a leg curled over his shins.

He didn't dare move, wondering how this had happened. She had been cold, which was why the blanket. He raised his head slightly, trying to figure out how to extract himself quietly from Khushi's octopus-like hold. Her breath was warm on his chest—this was the most comfortable he had ever felt in any bed. He raised his arm gingerly and patted her head. That was the opposite of extracting himself, but he didn't want to let her go just yet.

She wiggled in her sleep and pressed herself closer to him. Uh oh. Now that he was awake, this had the potential of getting more awkward than he could handle.

He glanced down at her head and whispered, "Khushi...?" She burrowed deeper into his chest in response. He teetered on the verge of giving up. "Khushi!"

Finally, she stirred, shuddered, and then became completely still. He longed to wrap his arms around her and hold her, but he resisted, making sure he was not holding her in any way—it was all her.

She moved slowly, removing her arm and leg and face, eyes still closed, and turned away.

"Khushi," he whispered, eyes half-closed, wishing it was a dream and he hadn't woken up. But she slithered out of bed and was gone, leaving him with a feeling of emptiness.

She returned freshly bathed, pink and damp-haired, with a cup of tea for him. He had felt too sluggish to go for his run this morning, unable to forget her warmth on his body or her lingering scent of sandalwood-jasmine. He gave her a long look as she placed the tea on her desk, where he was sitting.

She was shivering slightly, he noticed. He turned around in his chair to take a better look at her as she walked past him. She caught his stare, stumbled, and he stood up and caught her before she could fall flat on the floor.

Her scent was intoxicating. She had wrapped her arms around his neck like she always did when he held her like that—which he had done more times than he could count. They seemed to fall over each other more frequently than was normal. He pulled her closer, steadying her, and lifted a finger to touch her nose.

"It's red," he murmured.

"What?"

"Your nose." He tapped it playfully.

She stood up and pulled herself away. "That happens. When it's cold," she replied.

He glanced up at the air conditioner, which was on full blast, and remembered her blanket.

"Preeto's sangeet is in the evening, but there are a lot of things to do. So we are going to be at her house. Amma said she will send some food for you. And—the wedding—I'll come fetch you."

"You want me to eat alone?"

She fixed him a look. "You eat alone at home all the time."

"I don't eat breakfast alone."

She sighed. "She'll send you lunch. Everyone's having breakfast in a bit. Come out if you want to eat."

Feeling despondent again, Arnav joined Khushi's family for breakfast and watched them leave for Preeto's house next door.

He spent the rest of the day working, taking advantage of the air conditioning and lack of noise in the house to get a bunch of things done, including, miracle of miracles, a conference call.

But somehow, Khushi's indifference dampened his mood, and getting a bunch of work done didn't improve it very much.