A Relationship That Blurs The Lines Between Love and Obsession
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Raghavendra Singh Rajvansh , is ruthless , heir to thron of royal , prominent state of Rajasthan with being it's chief minister and innumerable...
The first rays of dawn kissed Meera's eyelids, casting a soft, golden glow across her face. She stirred, a gentle smile playing on her lips as she opened her eyes.
Beside her, Raghuvendra, lay peacefully, his breath steady and rhythmic.
A wave of contentment washed over her. The night before had been magical, a whirlwind of emotions, from the excitement of the ceremony to the tenderness of their first night together.
She turned to face him, her gaze drawn to his serene features. His dark, captivating eyes were still closed, long lashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks.
A gentle breeze, carrying the sweet scent of morning flowers, drifted through the open window.
Meera inhaled deeply, the fresh air invigorating her senses. She shifted closer to Raghuvendra, her fingers tracing the outline of his face. His skin was warm, his stubble soft against her fingertips.
A sudden movement from Raghuvendra startled her. His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled at her, his expression filled with warmth and love. "Good morning, biwi ," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.
Meera returned his smile, her heart overflowing with affection. "Good morning," she replied, her voice soft and sweet.
She knew that Raghuvendra was a morning person, but she also knew that he could be quite grumpy when he first woke up.
She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Finally, she decided to take a chance. "Raghuvendra ji ," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It's time to get up."
Raghuvendra groaned and turned over, burying his face in the pillow. "Five more minutes," he mumbled, his voice muffled.
We have to get ready and go downstairs for breakfast," she reminded him.
Raghuvendra's eyes snapped open, and he glared at her. "Why can't we just stay in bed?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation.
Meera gently tried to free her wrist from Raghavendra's grasp.
"Raghavendra ji , please...I need to go make breakfast. Aaj meri pehli rasoi hai."
Raghavendra's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening.
"Breakfast can wait," he growled.
Meera's eyes pleaded with him.
"Please, Raghavendra ji....it's a special day. My first rasoi...I want it to be perfect ."
Raghavendra's expression softened slightly, his grip loosening.
"Fine," he muttered.
"Pehli rasoi," or first kitchen ritual as a newlywed, where she would be formally introduced to the household and expected to impress with her culinary skills. But more than the cooking, the anticipation of embracing a new life filled her heart with fluttering excitement.
As she emerged out from the bathroom freshly bathed, smelling like roses and vanilla.
She went in closet to select a saree . Her eyes scanned the colorful array of silks and chiffons, each one promising to transform her into a vision of elegance.
She yearned to look her best. As she gently touched the soft fabrics, her mind raced with thoughts of tradition and modernity.
She envisioned herself in a saree that would honor her heritage while reflecting her personal style.
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