𝐂𝐇𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈: 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞| 𝟏𝟖+ [Extended Ver.]

𝟏𝟎. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐍

CHHAVI'S POV

My feet froze on the damp grass. My ears suddenly sharpened, catching the shrill rustling of the cool wind as it cut through the leaves. Chills seeped into every pore of my skin, erupting goosebumps, warning me that I wasn't really alone here.

My heart thumped against my chest, amplifying the silence engulfing me with each passing moment. Fear insidiously crept into my brain, clouding my conscience and conquering my voice, robbing me out of every single thought and words. I wanted to scream, call out to Drishye, to save me because I could feel that unknown around me, lurking behind the oak trees, waiting and watching me tremble, under his gaze.

My eyes watered, burning with unshed tears but I could not dare to blink or look around, terrified of what I might witness. I felt him near me, way too near me, by my side, looking into my face, straight. One glance and I might unleash something I'm not prepared to face.

Suddenly, I felt a strong grip on my shoulder. The thumbing of my heart intensified, making me tremble vigorously. I felt the strong hands yank me, as if trying to take me away. And, I gasped hard.

"Ahhhhh!"

A raw scream tore out of my throat, echoing through the open space. The world spun in front of my eyes, blurred by the pooled up tears. My body shook as if someone was trying to pull me out of the chasm.

It was only when I felt a gentle squeeze on my arm, grounding me. I blinked, my vision unblurred and I recognised the familiar face in front of me, etched with worry. Those grey eyes, questioning my frenzy.

Drishye.

"Miss Rosy!"

His tensed voice traversed me back to the present, like a lifeline pulling me from drowning depths.

I huffed, my breathe painfully caught in my throat.

"Dri-"

I tried to call his name but it cracked, halfway. My hysteria refused to let me go.

"Why do you have blue flowers in your garden?"

I demanded abruptly, still breathing erratically. My gaze darted toward the mesmerizing blooms which were staring back at me like creeps behind the bars. Had their roots not been tangled under the soil, they'd have groped me under their canopy.

A sly smile curled his lips and for the first time ever, I felt an unmistakable spasm of intimidation. The smile was not at all casual. It was sinister, setting my nerves on fire.

He stepped closer and questioned back in a deceptively well- paced voice.

"Can a man not plant flowers in his own garden?"

I narrowed my eyes, scanning his face, trying to decode the layers behind the smile that somehow made me feel weird, like a mask shielding intentions I wasn't prepared to face.

"Are they just simple flowers?"

I couldn't help but ask, quivering. 

He took another step forward, closing the leftover distance between us and loomed over me, locking his eyes onto mine, silently commanding the hair on my nape to stand erect.

"No, they're not." He said in a rich tone that wrapped around me like smoke. "They're much more than just flowers."

His gaze lingered for a moment longer before he turned away, strolling into the heart of the garden, his fingers grazing the delicate petals tenderly, as he explained.

"These are blue poppies, Miss Rosy. The Queen of the Himalayan flowers. They hold great medicinal value, you know. But do you know what's disheartening?"