Spark Off ✔

1|One Night

Hi guys 🤗
Are you ready to tolerate a new story?
If no, please skip reading 😊

For those who are ready to scroll down;

○This one's on post seven years leap in the show. Starts from the night where Ishita gets drunk and spent the night with Raman in a hotel room. Well, nothing happened there, right? Let the show be the way it is, and imagine good possible things 😍

○Ruhan the Rockstar is what he is! *Screaming* I don't want to dwell on the Ruhi part, because Pihu is more than enough a turn off in this story, with a thullu-seeking-Shaggymaa around 😄

Enjoy reading...❤

Chapter-1

Following her footsteps felt forceful; his limbs were agonized, he did not want to move, leave her. It appeared he has just used her, and disposed of, leaving her humiliated. Turning back, he took a glance; she was sitting on the edge of the cot, rubbing her arms as she blushed in mortification; vacant, she never raised her eyelashes, it made her even more beautiful. There were no exchanges, taunts, or name-calling, but a look of disgust from the most cunning woman the planet held, weighing waste. This should not have happened!

"Raman," That sound of hers, he groaned inwardly; the kind of anger she instilled in was fathomless. "I trust you. You don't have to feel bad. I know you won't break promises for anything." Shagun added softly reminding him of some old bitter memories. Toxic tongue; he nodded meekly, mentally noting the way her jaw tightened. Her disposition screamed one thing and her eyes, malicious sparks effused.

One minute! Halting across the room, he ensued for a reason to turn back. God, her fragrance was having a violent onset on his senses, as his nostrils reddened in bliss. Why would Shagun have to be the one searching him? He was no kid! What was the damn reason she sniffed him out, now leaving his limb unfaithful; he would take a turn any moment, and engulf his happiness that was now sobbing behind.

"We should leave, Raman." She repeated it seemed. Her eyes a shade of poisonous red, as she glared him; softened her features when he met them. "Shall we?" Fake, fake, everything appeared pretence from when he saw her. Could be because her being dead was another facade, or maybe, the disclosure brought about the true stripes of the woman whom he trusted his daughter's life with, for no convincible reason.

"I-yeah," That felt miserable. The ache was not unknown. It was the same he felt when he lost her once. It penetrated through his every ounce when his heart screamed to turn back, one time. He was leaving her? It was not her fault; he could not blame her on anything happened between them. He crossed the yarn himself weaved when they faced. He broke it, crumbling the last of every wall down that blocked her away. Life would not be more worthless than this.

He was tired, of everything; the mental agony of casting her aside, the temptation itched inside when the physical pain of being with her stroke his spine; execrable existence!

"Uh-Raman," She lagged, trying to get his attention. His eyes still focused the passing landscape under the night sky, fingers restlessly striving across his palms, he seemed to be breathing calmly or not at all breathing; she could not comprehend that state. They would reach home in a while, and he would dismiss everything; every-thing that happened tonight, she was sure. However, that does not unstay the urgency of an exchange of words. Once glancing at the driver, she reached her hand out to him, who was oblivious of the world, immersing in something she could not afford to happen; she knew what it could be, and the thought itself was infuriating.