Khushi
"When you look at me like that, it makes me think that you don't know that I'm in love with you."
Khushi fidgeted with her pallu as she stared at the back of her husband's head, wishing she could read his thoughts as easily as he seemed to read hers.
His hair is still too long.
In the front seats of Arnav-ji's car, the men talked softly of some negotiations that were not going to plan. She sat in the back with Jiji, who had long since abandoned her attempts at conversation and left Khushi alone with her thoughts.
He loves me.
He'd said it like it was obvious, as if she should've already known. And perhaps she had, somewhere deep inside.
It was there when he looked at her. It was there in his words ... and in his touch.
Her body heated with the recollection, her pulse returning to its dhak-dhak tempo. She still felt drunk with his presence. Though fire no longer raced in her veins, she felt it would only take one look, one whispered word, one grazing touch, to make her as weak-kneed and needy as she'd been earlier. He'd left her overawed, bewitched by his masculinity, and it was only after he'd slid into the driver's seat of his car that she'd recovered enough to absorb what had happened.
Hai Devi Maiyya, I didn't say it back.
They'd been halfway down the corridor before she'd even processed what he'd said, and after that, there hadn't been a moment of privacy. It was not only his physicality that beguiled her. He, as a man, enthralled her. Arnav-ji was a mix of contradictions, at once both solemn and stubborn, steadfast and stormy, and more seductive than any man had a right to be. Their sensuous encounter had only amplified his magnetic effect on her.
He knows that I love him too. Doesn't he?
And if he didn't, what was the best way to tell him? A message on his phone? A whisper in his ear as she hugged him?
Should I decorate the poolside? Write it in jalebi?
Her thoughts chased one another until they stopped at a traffic light, when Arnav-ji tilted his head so he could see her in the side mirror. His smile was slow and sincere, his eyes bright and features relaxed in a way she hadn't seen for a long time.
I want him to be this happy all the time, Devi Maiyya.
Her heart soared as she grinned back at him. The butterflies in her tummy awoke when he winked. Then his attention was back on the road as the cars around them started moving. Her preoccupation lasted until they reached the reception hall. Arnav-ji parked his car smoothly into a space and turned in his seat to face her.
"I'll help you. Leave the gift."
Aakash Jija-ji opened Jiji's door and offered his hand as she slid out. Khushi prepared to do the same as Arnav-ji opened her door. But he didn't offer his hand. Instead, he lifted her out with his hands at her waist, his fingers skimming devilishly under her pallu. She held onto his shoulders as she slid down the length of his body before her shoes found the ground.
"Are you alright?" he murmured.
"Yes."
"About ... earlier ... are you ... are you okay?"
"Y-yes."
He searched her eyes, "Sure? You're very quiet."
"It's not ... it's not that," Khushi tried to pull away.
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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...