Khushi
"Khushi?"
Her heart skipped several beats - fear or something else, she didn't dare to examine - as he sat up. Arnav-ji blinked at her, his gaze turning cold as he seemed to remember.
"Not now," he stood.
Khushi followed him to the poolside after snatching the bowl of kheer.
"I ... we ... Jiji and I made kheer. Without sugar."
Arnav-ji took up a pair of shears and spoke without turning, "What will Payal say if I ask her about Shyam?"
"The same thing Amma and Bua-ji told you."
"The same lie? Your entire family rehearsed this story?" he snapped the shears in frustration.
Sadness pulsed in her chest, "Or it's the truth."
"The truth," Arnav-ji scoffed.
"How can I prove anything to you if you're not willing to listen?" Khushi asked desperately.
"Listen?" he finally turned, his voice rising with every word, "I don't need to listen to anything!"
He held her wrist, pulling her closer, "I saw you on the terrace. I saw you ... in ... in each other's arms ... I heard what he ... what he said to you! What you said to him!"
"I've tried to explain—"
"— You have no idea do you?" Arnav-ji's grip loosened slightly as he interrupted her.
She watched as anger leeched out of his expression and stuttered a response, "Wh-what?"
"How pretty you look when you're angry."
She blinked at him, completely flummoxed by the sudden change in him, and his mouth tilted into a smile.
"What!?" she managed.
"But that doesn't mean that you should always be angry with me," he said reasonably, "Come."
Khushi didn't resist as her husband gently guided her to the outdoor setting, where he sat her on a seat before settling opposite her. He silenced her with a shake of his head when she tried to speak.
"I was saying," she tried again, "How can I prove that I'm inn—"
Unnoticed, Arnav-ji had reached for the kheer and was now spooning some into her mouth. She swallowed instinctively, blinking in shock. His smile widened. Then he reached towards her, his eyes seeming to sparkle with mirth, and she watched his fingers warily as he wiped a grain of rice from the corner of her mouth. Her pulse stalled, electricity flooding her at the simple touch.
He caressed her cheek before guiding her hand to the spoon and using it to feed himself. There was something in the way he looked at her, his eyes refusing to leave hers as his mouth closed around the spoon, that caused heat to rush through her veins. Khushi struggled to draw breath.
"With you feeding me," he smiled, "even this sugar-free kheer tastes sweet."
Oh, Devi Maiyya.
Had it been only this morning that she'd asked herself whether he'd ever touch her again? Whether he'd ever look at her way he was doing now — as if she was the answer to every question he'd ever had. So great was her relief that she almost sobbed, suddenly wanting this moment to never end. When Arnav-ji fed her again, gently spooning the kheer into her mouth, her only thought was that the spoon had been in his mouth mere seconds ago.
She imagined that she could taste him.
Hai Devi Maiyya, what shameless thoughts!
She inhaled some rice and doubled over, coughing violently.
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Charade (IPKKND AU)
Fanfiction(IPKKND AU) Some relationships are tied in extraordinary ways. They begin with conflict. They grow in hatred. They stumble, they fall, and yet they remain. The hatred grows as the relationship deepens. Until one day, even hatred itself is reluctant...