Khushi
The next morning, Khushi glanced at the clock as she folded her blanket. She'd managed to haggle Arnav-ji down from giving up his bed to an arrangement that involved them switching between the sofa and the bed every few nights. He'd still insisted on sleeping on the sofa first.
Hai Devi Maiyya, he's taking so long! Bua-ji will be here soon.
She moved his blanket and pillow from the sofa to the bed, fiddling with everything until it looked perfect. Then she paced the length of the room while she fretted, biting her nails, and rushed to the bathroom as the door opened.
"Arnav-ji you took so lo—"
Somehow they collided, his hands automatically finding her waist, and it was only when Khushi caught her breath that she realised he wasn't wearing a shirt.
Oh.
Her pulse roared in her ears. Her hands trembled as she tried to avoid touching his still-damp skin. When she gathered the courage to look at him, Khushi saw that he was watching her intently, and she drowned in his eyes until he shook his head to deliberately sprinkle water all over her. She blinked in surprise, hyperaware of the way his body moved as he gave a small chuckle.
Heat spread like wildfire in her veins.
She was still breathing too hard when he released her, allowing her to scamper into the bathroom and stand in front of the mirror.
Oh, Devi Maiyya, what's he doing to me?
Thankfully, Arnav-ji had disappeared when she finished in the bathroom sometime later. She stood next to the poolside doors and rubbed a towel over her hair, clad in the pink sari that Anjali-ji had lent her the night before, but froze when she noticed the two large bags on the bed. There was a note next to them.
"These are yours if you want them."
Inside, she found the clothes she'd picked out the day before, folded neatly. She pulled them out one by one, unable to contain a grin, and saw that they'd been altered. Pompoms hung from all their sleeves.
Blinking back tears, she hugged a dress to her chest as she muttered to herself, "I'll thank him as soon as I see him."
Folding the dress again, she made to return it to the bag when she realised there was something else inside. A red drawstring pouch, inside which she found a small golden pot filled with sindoor. An intense joy washed over her as she ran to the mirror and placed some in her hair with a trembling hand.
Khushi Kumari Gupta ... Singh Raizada.
She packed the clothes away but left the sindoor under his mirror before bouncing downstairs to help her sister with breakfast.
"Jiji," Khushi spoke as she readied the tea, "You looked so beautiful yesterday."
"You looked beautiful too," Jiji smiled, "Are you ready to leave?"
"Yes. It will be so wonderful to see everyone again, won't it?"
Jiji paused in her cooking, "Khushi ... you know that everyone is still very upset?"
Her tummy churned as melancholy hooked its claws into her again, "Yes, Jiji. But I'll make it better, I promise."
She didn't eat when the food was ready, choosing instead to loiter near Arnav-ji's seat and wait for him. He didn't appear, and her heart sank when she realised that he'd left the house without telling her yet again.
He doesn't have to tell you, she reminded herself.
But she wished he had all the same.
Pushing aside her sadness, Khushi ran to the door when a knock sounded to greet her aunt enthusiastically. But Bua-ji's smile faltered at the sight of her, sending heart dropping somewhere near her tummy again, so she hovered to the side as everyone exchanged pleasantries.
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