Making Her Mine- An IPKKND story.

Chapter 25 - Words of my heart

Khushi looked resplendent in a pink and gold saree, her eyes lined with kohl and the slightest hint of makeup accentuating her features.

Arnav let her catch him staring, and he watched her blush.

"I wish you had a kurta," she said, eyeing his all-black suit.

"I don't look nice enough in this?" he asked, tugging at his jacket.

"You look very nice, but—" she stopped, catching his smirk. "We better get going; they've already started."

Preeto's house was a warren of rooms, and everyone was gathered in a largish room you accessed through two smaller ones.

Buaji intercepted them, expressing no surprise at seeing Arnav. "How come you are so late?" she chided Khushi, pulling her inside by the arm. Arnav followed his wife.

The furniture in the room had been cleared away. People were seated in a circle on sheets spread over the floor, a small space cleared in the middle.

Khushi walked straight to the bride, who was sitting at the front.

"This is Preeto—Pritika—my childhood friend," Khushi said to Arnav. The girl was round-faced and pretty in her bride's clothes. She smiled shyly at Arnav and folded her hands in a namaste.

"Sir?"

Arnav glanced at the man sitting next to Preeto. He was also round-faced and wearing a light blue kurta—the groom. It took a couple of seconds for Arnav to realize why this man looked familiar—didn't he work in one of the AR offices?

"Sir, you're here?" He stood up quickly, looking bewildered and a little scared as he glanced at Arnav and then at Khushi.

Arnav gave him a small nod.

"This is ASR Sir, our company's—" the man began, but Arnav cut him off. "Congratulations," he said. "My wife is friends with your—with Pritika," indicating Khushi.

"Khushi-ji, you didn't tell me—" the man was saying now. Arnav couldn't remember his name for the life of him.

Both Khushi and Preeto were looking at him with dawning understanding.

"I'm here as Khushi's husband," Arnav muttered to the groom-to-be. "I'll be sitting in that corner; don't worry about me."

The man gulped and nodded, but he was smart enough not to make a fuss.

Khushi followed him to the back of the room and watched him settle down next to two older men.

"What's his name?" he whispered to Khushi as he sat down uncomfortably on the floor.

"Ankur ji? He works for you!"

"Yeah, not in the head office; I've barely interacted with him," Arnav replied defensively.

Khushi left him and was soon pulled to the center to dance to some Bollywood wedding song.

This wasn't so bad. His legs were cramped, crossed on the floor like that, but still. He let his eyes follow Khushi, who was weaving between the other women, her face lit with a dazzling smile as she danced. She was mesmerizing when she moved. Arnav could sit and watch her forever and be happy.

But, of course, that wouldn't happen. The older men beside him decided they didn't want him to be happy. Instead, they turned to him and began asking questions. "What do you do, son? Where is your family from? So you're Madhumati-ji's damaad. No one called us to Khushi bitya's wedding. You don't speak very much, do you?"

Khushi caught his despairing look and came over. "It's better to dance," she whispered. "At least no one will talk to you then."

"There is no way in hell I will dance," Arnav muttered furiously. But she grabbed his arm and pulled him up. "Everyone's dancing now; no one will notice you. Just come; you don't have to do anything."

He followed her. The circle had indeed grown larger; many more people were on their feet now, and the dancers were no longer the center of the room's attention.

He stood near the edge of the circle, resolutely stiff, letting Khushi hold on to his arm. The song switched to a slower one, which meant he could get away with standing perfectly still. Khushi held his arm and nodded her head to the music, fixing her eyes on his.

♪ Tie me up with delicate threads...there are no distances in strong relationships

Khushi placed her hand on his chest and pushed him gently, still nodding to the music.

♪ Your anger is only pretend, my love, listen to what my heart says

She was swaying her hips slightly, earrings flashing as she smiled.

♪ We will sit and lock eyes and speak our hearts, everyday, like true lovers do

He held her hand in his, rooted to the spot.

♪ Why do you torment me, why do you pretend, why do you sulk?

Her hand had moved up his chest, to his shoulder, and he put his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, swaying slightly as he held her.

♪ Let's sit and lock eyes, and speak our hearts

Her smile faltered and disappeared as they held each other, oblivious to the people dancing around them. It was as if the appeal in the song was in her eyes.

♪ I have adored you, kept you in my eyes, hid you from everyone else

Her large brown eyes were soft and searching.

♪ Make me yours, I'm only there in this world for you...

His eyes were fixed on hers as they swayed slowly to the music.

The moment was abruptly broken when a new song blared, a raucous voice several decibels louder. They both jumped a little, and loosed their hold on each other.

✨

*Note: The song ♪ in italics is supposed to be "Dil Diya Gallan" 🙂 I tried to sneak in a Rabba Ve, and this has been my favourite part to write so far!