....˖☆𝐀 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 + 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞☆˖....
"You can't marry him Vaani" I said staring deep in her eyes gritting my teeth my chest tighten with unfamiliar and unbearable pain , just the thought of her being with someone else kills...
aaraam se mar jaaoon aaja chanda bahoo mein tujh mein hi gum ho jaaoon main tere naam mein kho jaaoon saiyyan ... saiyyan. 🎀🎀
______________________________
Since many of you said there’s no need to cut any scenes, I’ve decided the book will stay 85 chapters as planned, and no scenes will be removed. But can I please ask for engagement on the chapters? Lately, the response has been really low, and honestly, it’s becoming very demotivating. It starts to feel like all the effort I put in just goes unnoticed. I know some of you feel engagement drops because of late updates, but I truly am trying to balance writing with real life and everything else going on. I’m giving this story my best is it too much to ask for proper engagement in return? I just hope you all support the chapters, interact, and don’t let the hard work behind them feel wasted again.
_______________________________
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Aap jaiye yaha se… aise kisi ladki ke room me kaise ghu skte hai."
(Please leave… how can you enter a girl’s room like this?)
Anya scolded, her voice husky despite herself as she stepped back. Her palmsadorned with fresh mehndi trembled faintly, the deep maroon still drying. She was dressed for the sangeet night, soft lights from the corridor kissing her silhouette.
Reeyansh choked on air.
"Aap?" "AAP?"
He stared at her in sheer disbelief, eyes widening as if the universe had rewritten itself overnight.
Anya tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, playing the shy bride with exaggerated innocence.
"Ab aap mere shree shree pati parmeshwar ban jayege toh socha 'aap' pyara lagega."
(Now that you’re about to become my divine husband, I thought it would sound sweet.)
Her cheeks bloomed pink.
Reeyansh’s face burned instantly at the mention of their wedding.
He took a step forward. Then another. Until her back met the wall.
Anya gasped.
"Ye 'kisi ladki' kal meri biwi hogi aur aap kaho ya tum, mujhe toh bs tumhara huuu yehi smjh aata."
(This girl will be my wife tomorrow, and whether you say ‘aap’ or ‘tum’, all I understand is that I am only yours.)
He teased softly, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His hand found her bare waist, fingers digging in possessively as his lips brushed her shoulder slow, lingering, familiar like a prayer repeated every day.
