ENJOY :-)
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The car ride was silent. Though Rudransh didn't look angry, his silence was more dangerous anyway. Isha kept glancing at him from the corner of her eye. She bounced her leg up and down while chewing the inside of her cheek, scratching the seat cover with her short nails.
Why is he not saying anything? Do I start the conversation?
She looked at him again, trying to recall scenes from her novel. But the aftermath of this type of situation in novels was never decent, so she shook her head.
Ew, those won't do. Of course, I'm not going to sit on his lap and ask him what's wrong—no!!
She scolded herself in her mind. I am a psychology student and I can't even think of anything right now.
She looked up at him. "Weather is good, right?" she asked hesitantly.
He hummed in response without looking at her.
She pressed her lips tightly and looked down. Her fingers played with the leather seat and her nose scrunched.
She peeked at him again. His hands were tightly clutching the steering wheel. Was that normal? Or did his hands always look like that—veiny, thick—
She shook her head, quickly looking away.
I need to stay away from Ishaan. He's been talking about Mr. Vittorio a lot, and it's starting to make me think these vulgar thoughts.
Isha sighed, looking away. How do people even start conversations? She could now understand why some patients looked at consultants as if they'd grown horns when they said, "Communication is the key."
Her stomach made a loud sound, and she let her head fall against the window glass with a thud. Her cheek and ear turned red as she bit her lip, embarrassment consuming her.
Rudransh stopped the car and turned to her, gently pulling her head away from the window and holding her hand. His thumb caressed her forehead softly.
"Careful," he said, his voice calm.
She still couldn't bring herself to look at him, her gaze fixed downward in embarrassment.
He gently tilted her head up , his eyes locking with hers. "What's there to be embarrassed about?"
Her breath hitched at his touch, but before she could answer, he let her go. The warmth of his hand disappeared, leaving her feeling strangely empty.
Rudransh restarted the car, his jaw tightening as he glanced ahead. The silence in the car grew heavier with each passing second. Rudransh's grip on the steering wheel was firm, his knuckles slightly whitening. He didn't say a word, but his demeanor screamed irritation. Isha, fidgeting with her fingers, kept stealing nervous glances at him. Her mind raced as she tried to piece together what she might have done wrong.
Why is he upset? Did I say something? Did I do something?
Her stomach twisted in knots as she debated whether to speak up. Slowly, she turned toward him, opening her mouth to say something, only to close it again. His silence felt like a wall she couldn't breach. Her attempts to gather courage were interrupted by the tension radiating from him.
Finally, she whispered, "Rudransh?"
He didn't respond, his eyes glued to the road ahead.
Her heart sank. He's really mad, she thought. Her mind churned for a solution. In an attempt to lighten the mood, she awkwardly leaned toward him.
YOU ARE READING
His sukoon : His junoon
Roman d'amour"You don't understand, Rana Sa, we are not made for each other." Her eyes held tears of helplessness as she tried to make the man in front of her understand. ""Whether you believe it or not, you are mine and I won't let you go, no matter what you sa...
