𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑴𝒆 ••• "Did you know how I felt when I learned my wife wants to divorce me through a fūcking outsider?" He asked, his piercing gaze meeting hers through the mirror. His one hand was resting on her stomach, keeping her close to him while the other one touched her head. "This-" He moved the finger from her head to her heart. "-this-" He pulled her closer from his other hand. "-your whole fūcking being, belongs with me, get that?" He asked, raising her chin to make her look in the mirror. She should push him away, she should be telling him how much she hates him but she found herself nodding. "Words." He pressed. "Yes," She mumbled. "What's your name?" "Roop." "What's your name?" He asked again, pronouncing each word clearly this time. "Roop Mehrotra." "Roop. Amrit. Mehrotra." His jaw tightened, "Say it." "Roop Amrit Mehrotra." She breathed out, trying to get away from him but his grip was firm. "Right, and it's going to stay just like that." ••• Two people, one unwanted marriage. The question is, will they survive or give up without even trying? •••

❝𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚 & 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚❞ I should not feel anything for someone who is my enemy, someone who has caused me so much pain that the very thought of him should fill me with nothing but rage and bitterness. Yet, against all logic, I feel it-I feel the heat rising beneath my skin . The mere idea of his touch sends shivers down my spine, igniting sensations that I desperately want to ignore. This isn't right. I shouldn't crave the presence of someone I despise, but my body betrays me, responding to him in ways that my mind fiercely rejects. He stands so close that his breath fans across my face, warm and intimate, stirring emotions that I refuse to acknowledge. A slight movement is all it would take for our lips to meet, for this unbearable tension to shatter into something far more dangerous. His hands are braced on either side of my head, trapping me, yet he doesn't need to touch me to make me feel trapped. His body hovers just out of reach, yet I can sense him, every inch of him, as if the air itself is an extension of his presence. I shouldn't desire this man. I shouldn't want to close the gap, to feel the press of his body against mine. I should be repulsed, disgusted by how my thoughts betray my hatred. But my body doesn't listen to reason , it yearns for what it shouldn't, driven by instincts I can't control. I despise him-my enemy- My rival-but the line between hatred and desire is blurring, and I'm terrified of which side I might fall on. {𝖠 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾 } | | Mature content 18+| |