The vivid reds in wedding symbols of celebration , Happiness and Joy . But what will happen if the same red colour change into the colour of blood betrayal and the symphony of despair.
Meera sweet little innocent girl end up being the pawn in the d...
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I stirred slowly, the soft rays of sunlight slipping through the sheer curtains and warming my skin. A gentle breeze carried the scent of sandalwood and earth from the night's rain. For a moment, I didn't open my eyes—I just breathed in the peace, the warmth, and the unfamiliar but comforting sensation of being held.
His arms were around me.
I lay cradled against his chest, bare and safe in his embrace, our legs tangled under the sheet. My heart fluttered. I could hear the steady beat of his heart under my ear, strong and sure. Last night wasn't just a night. It was... something else. Something sacred.
A blush crept up my cheeks as I became aware of our closeness, the lack of fabric between us, the marks of his love still tingling on my skin. I buried my face into his chest, hiding my smile, my shyness, and the rush of emotions all at once.
Just then, I felt the press of his lips in a soft kiss against the crown of my head, so soft, so deliberate.
"Good morning, bird," he murmured, his voice husky and low from sleep.
My breath caught.
I lifted my head slightly, still pressed close to him, and kissed his chest—right where his heart beat beneath the surface. He held me tighter in response. I looked up through my lashes and whispered, "Good morning..."
A small smirk played on his lips. "Hmm, so the shy Mrs. Rajvansh finally woke up," he teased, raising an eyebrow. "Still hiding your face after everything we shared last night?"
I swatted his chest gently, my cheeks heating.
"What?" he chuckled, his voice laced with mischief. "I'm just wondering if this is the same girl who was demanding things from me a few hours ago..."
I let out a gasp. "I did not demand—"
"You did," he interrupted, eyes gleaming. "Something like 'Please... I want something... but I don't know what'." He mimicked my voice in a playful whisper.
I groaned and tried to hide under the pillow, but he caught my wrist and pulled me back to him effortlessly.
"Stop it," I muttered, half-laughing, half-mortified.
He leaned in closer, nose brushing mine, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "No, Meera. You stop being this cute. It's distracting and doing this which are completely unholy."
I bit my lip, eyes still locked with his. This was new. This teasing, lighthearted person who laughed with his eyes and made my stomach swirl with butterflies—I hadn't met this version of him before.
I reached up and lightly poked his cheek. "What has happened to you, Mr. Khadoos? Where did my serious, brooding husband go?"
His smile softened, and his fingers gently traced my jaw. "Nothing happened to me," he whispered. "Its just that I've just... fallen in love with you."
