Khushi
"You talk."
"Huh?" Khushi blinked sleep from her eyes, trying to focus on the form of her husband where he sprawled on his bed.
"You talk in your sleep. I've hardly slept for the last half an hour!"
She blushed, fiddling with a curl of hair as she avoided his gaze. His sheets rustled as he shifted so they had a clearer view of each other.
"What did I say?" she asked after a short pause.
Arnav-ji tucked an arm behind his head with a contemplative hum, "Your family. Holi. Something about jalebi."
His voice — low and rough and thick with sleep — caused her pulse to skitter.
"Sorry."
Arnav-ji sat up with a sigh. His hair was in disarray and he needed a shave, but the only thought in her mind was that he was the most handsome man in all of existence. Khushi forced her gaze to remain on his face, though she knew he wore a white shirt that made him look ...
Oh Devi Maiyya!
"I was thinking of the colours I would use for Holi this year," she tried to explain, "Green for Amma and Babu-ji, orange for Bua-ji, blue for Jiji and yellow for ..."
"Yellow for you, I know."
Something about the way he looked at her, his eyes warm and his mouth tilted into a ghost of a smile, made her brave.
"Do you want to know which colour I would use for you?"
"Which one?" he frowned.
Standing, she deftly rolled up her blanket and placed it on the sofa before taking a few steps towards the bathroom. She paused just long enough to shout her answer in his direction.
"Black!"
Khushi bolted, but he was quicker. Arnav-ji rolled across the bed in a flash and intercepted her at the bathroom door. His grip was strong and sure as he picked her up and swung her around with a chuckle.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing!" she giggled, struggling against him half-heartedly, "I didn't say anything."
"Oh, yeah?" he breathed, his lips brushing her ear.
She shivered against him. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer. She turned her head to look at him. His eyes dropped to her mouth.
It happened slowly. The light in his eyes dimmed and his grip loosened. He stepped away. Then he looked down, running a hand through his hair, and she realised that she'd foolishly left her dupatta on the sofa. She held an arm awkwardly across her chest instead.
"I'll b-be late for the puja," she said softly.
Her husband nodded, allowing her to step into the bathroom with a heavy heart as she wished for something that could never be hers. When she emerged to gather her clothes, she found Arnav-ji standing at his wardrobe, a change of clothes bundled in his hands.
"I'll change. You can shower while I jog."
Khushi nodded, sidestepping him to get to her basta of things.
Sometime later, she traipsed downstairs to help her sister with the morning puja. And afterwards, she readied her offering to Devi Maiyya: an entire kilogram of jalebi, made by hand.
Arnav-ji — showered and changed after his jog — stepped out to the poolside area alongside the sitting room just as she was finishing up. Khushi followed after wiping her hands on a towel and found him already absorbed in his plants.
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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...