Where is bride mr. Mehra his father asked?
There parents are looking down they don't have words to say to them that there daughter run away from her own marriage...
Sorry Raghuvanshi sahab mai aapke hath judta ho mujhe maaf karde .
Ab kuch nhi ho sa...
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Author's POV
The clock struck past midnight, and the city outside was wrapped in a tranquil silence, only occasionally disturbed by the distant hum of vehicles or the soft rustle of the winter breeze. Abhimanyu stepped inside the house, the day's exhaustion etched on his face. His meetings had dragged longer than expected, as they often did, leaving him with little time for anything else. He had already informed everyone earlier not to wait for him for dinner, knowing he wouldn’t be home before late.
As expected, the house was quiet. The dim glow of the hallway light cast faint shadows along the walls, and the gentle creaks of the wooden floor beneath his feet were the only sounds accompanying him as he walked. Each door he passed was closed, a clear sign that everyone had retired to their respective rooms for the night.
Abhimanyu made his way to his room, carefully twisting the doorknob to avoid waking anyone. The room was dimly lit by the faint moonlight seeping through the sheer curtains. His gaze instinctively fell on the bed. There lay Anika, deeply lost in her dreams. She was curled up slightly, one hand resting near her face, her hair spread messily across the pillow.
Letting out a soft sigh, he stepped toward the wardrobe to change out of his work clothes. His shirt and trousers felt restrictive after the long hours he’d spent in them, and the idea of slipping into something comfortable was a small solace after a tiring day. He opted for his usual soft cotton T-shirt and loose sweatpants, feeling the weariness of the day slowly melt away as he slipped into them.
When he finally approached the bed, he let himself sink into the mattress with a soft groan. Leaning against the headboard, he rubbed his temples and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to unwind. That’s when he noticed it—the blanket on Anika’s side had been carelessly kicked off and was now lying in a heap near her feet.
He shook his head, an amused smile tugging at his lips. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen her do this. In fact, it had become something of a nightly ritual for her to unconsciously toss her blanket aside, even in the chilliest of winters. Despite the biting cold of the season, she remained blissfully unaware of her predicament, lost in her dreams.
Abhimanyu’s gaze softened as he watched her for a moment. Her nose was slightly red from the cold, and she was shivering ever so slightly, though her deep sleep kept her oblivious. He chuckled under his breath and murmured to himself, “Mohtarma, aaj phir blanket fenk ke so rahi hai. Aur phir subah khasengi.”
With gentle movements, he leaned forward and retrieved the blanket from where it lay crumpled. Slowly, he unfolded it and draped it over her, making sure to tuck it around her shoulders so the warmth wouldn’t escape. His hands lingered for a moment, adjusting the edges of the blanket to ensure she was fully covered.
His gaze lingered on her peaceful face. Even in her sleep, there was something endearing about the way her features softened, free from the worries or mischief that often danced in her eyes during the day. Her slightly parted lips and steady breathing made her look so serene, so vulnerable, that it tugged at a part of him he rarely acknowledged.
