Between The Lines

2.1 Illusion (Alternate Ending)

Warning: Angst, Mature, Use of expletive

by S-A (sweet anon)

can you please write an alternative ending to the fake honeymoon night following their sizzling, possessive dance

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ILLUSION

Perception of something objectively existing in such a way as to cause misinterpretation of its actual nature.

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"Now don't start seeing dreams," He whispered, her hand firmly in his grip. She looked at him, wondering why he thought she would see dreams about him, about them?

"How can I attach my dreams to you?" She lied through her teeth, praying her eyes didn't deceive the innumerable nights she spent seeing his face, smiling at her - or God forbid - doing things she could've only imagined.

Of course, her dreams, like her heart, belonged to another. Her words went down like a bitter pill, he hadn't been warning her at all. Arnav only needed to remind himself to not see the dreams he had carefully woven several nights ago.

"I'm doing this-"

"-for Di, me too." It was moments like this that shut him up. Why would she care about his sister? Slowly, he nudged her to follow his move. She followed him, attached like a magnet. She couldn't bear to look at his eyes, not when she knew she'd drown in them and he would do anything but save her. Her spine stiffened as her intuition warned her of another pair of eyes.

Disgust crawled her skin. Her grip tightened.

Arnav looked across, and found Shyam staring at the two of them. Even though Anjali was in his arms, he didn't hide how annoyed he was to find Khushi in Arnav's. Arnav stopped swaying, a realization settling in his throat like bile.

Oh that explains why Khushi wouldn't even look at him. Or why she wasn't even aware that he had stopped dancing.

Shyam had no right to look at his wife. Arnav Singh Raizada's wife.

Khushi frowned as Arnav lifted her hands, nudging her to dance - with him. She couldn't believe her eyes. Nor his. That he remembered there was a time when they used to walk the same steps, hand in hand, skin on skin.

With one tug she was thrown back to their historic Teri Meri performance. These were the same steps. It was as if they weren't even dancing in the same hall. All she could see were him, and his blatant grasp on her body.

Despite her mind's violation, her body eased with his as if they had never stopped dancing since that night. When he pulled her across the length of the room, she snapped out from the reverie and into a nightmare.

A delicious nightmare. The one that left you soaked with sweat, heart pounding, and a lover's name on your lips.

It was the same steps, but not the same man. Attraction was replaced by possession, love by passion, harmony by chaos, confession by silence. They were drunk, intoxicated from the memories of the last time they were so close, where his hand had slipped under her saree to feel her bare skin, where her fingertips had brushed against his stubble.

Tonight Khushi had made one mistake, to look into his eyes. Because once she did, she was unable to look at anything else. She was free falling, miles and miles into darkness, and everytime she thought she met death - she was pulled back into his arms.