FF: New York times with Maan&Geet Thread 4 09/13 - Page 77

xoxoxo!

I am really happy . hope abhi does something to lighten the situation ,she  is really very emotional and seems to be week . It looks like both the female protaganists of story are competing in being emotional. not there mistake though(no offense seriously).

I would love if you show something about meera and yash also. they are very happy go lucky types.

Keep updating 😊

She held him like there was no beginning or end. Just them. Their hands going in circles around each other, grappling their bodies, etching the fine memory of the form, firmness of their holds and the softness that they were digging their fingers into. Minutes passed, eyes closed and none had any intention to let go.

His hand diagonally over her back squeezed her shoulder and his face struggled with the curve of her neck that framed his face, muffling his laboring hot breaths. This was real; he was forcing the reality into his being. Hearing her go "Abhi..." in short intervals as she puled and whimpered like not letting his name escape her lips, was chocking her, made him tighten his arm wanting to seep deep into her aching cavities.

"Abhi..." She said his name again, determined not to have him hear anything else, hoping to convey all her secrets with just his one name.

Her shaky breaths, punched his shoulder and by some strange pull, wanting to see her face, he peeled himself away.

"I'm never leaving" He said, picking up her face between his palms. And he felt there was no need for him to clarify if he meant leaving New York or her life. It was simply beyond question, reason and thought, he wanted her to know already.

"Not even if you kick me out" He rested his forehead on hers, breaking into a laugh and forcing one on her face too.

"Now why would I do that" She said eddying her sobs on the gushing laugh that mounted her lips.

She looked up as his palms slid down her face, neck and then her shoulders, finally caging her waist, so close that she had to turn away slightly from not wanting to bump her nose into his. Somehow it felt complete.

"Everything seems like old and new" She said, closing her eyes "Like that first night you snuck in...the tingles that you are spreading now" He smiled at the mention of what he was doing to her.  In all the tugging and embracing, her sari had moved lower and her back was bare, where his hands were in a repose.

"But then it comes to me that we have been together for years that I shouldn't be feeling all this" She ended wanting him to know her present state.

"Trust me. This craziness...with you...never made any sense to me. I don't think it ever will" He said as she pulled her arms out of his exiling arms and placed it on his chest.

"Yeah! I'm sure that is why you smoked" she said and went towards the window as his hold on her dissolved. He was stuttering now, but something about the statement stuck him odd.

"You are not ok that I smoked, but you are not mad?" His forehead furrowed into a question and he followed her, stopping right behind her.

"I'm not going to fight about every little thing. We have bigger fish to fry" She said.

He blinked in disbelief. This was not his wife at all. Either Geet had rubbed off too much on her that she was speaking to him in a shy voice, with lowered gaze and not fussing over petty things or this was a decoy.

"I should have watched for the signs. You are not Naini" She turned and looked at him as she caught on to the pun in his voice.

His instincts to provoke her to speak in her usual timbre hadn't walked out on him yet. Or perhaps it wasn't her usual way to speak to anyone at all. It was something she had picked up over the years like it was a slowly manifested shield that guarded over her bound-to-be vulnerability. At some point in time, she'd felt everyone had given up on her, including him. Cussing and bellowing were how she drew attention to herself. But there were times - intimates ones like these - when he'd felt her shed her guardedness and she would become infinitesimally soft and eerily silent. It was the same worry he harbored many a time, as if she was a lunar mirage who almost always disappeared past the horizon once the rising sun would show up. He wanted to believe that this time was different. He was curious what signals he was picking up from her that told him it was otherwise. Like there was a side of him that wasn't persuaded, he was talking to the timid girl from that night ages ago, who had trustingly kissed him even as she'd trembled at the sight of him.

He touched her skin by her elbows, as if there was a topcoat of paint on her and whisked his fingers trying to find some tangible evidence it was her. She was warm and soft. He caught her eyes lose its color when an instant of worry prickled inside him, hinting that she might read into those words to grasp what he'd intended. He made light of the situation immediately.

"I'm talking about the sari. The sari is standing up on your shoulder, it hasn't been cussed at to be changed into something comfortable and neither have you screamed at me in the last 7 days" He said.

She could have taken offense to it all, however she didn't. She waited for any traces of rising ire to get back at him. Of course she had picked up on the clue he'd dropped, wittingly or unwittingly, she wasn't certain. She wanted to tell him that a lot had happened to the girl between the time who'd dreamt of wearing a sari and the one who'd actually worn it on their first day after marriage. That today she wasn't any of those girls, for she didn't need another identity except the one she was born with. And that he himself has never met the girl, or rather the woman she has secretly and unknowingly nurtured, whom had never shown herself into light until recently, even to her. Apparently this woman liked saris she wanted to tell, but she thought he was better left in a mystery, which - she was sure -  he would resolve with time.

"Don't get your hopes too high. You are stuck with me...and maybe the sari will stay up too long"

She smiled looking away but not before he could sense a challenge deep in her eyes.

"Do you have any idea how good it is to hear you talk like that...I want to be stuck with you all right...only if the sari is coming down too often"

And this time she had no doubts he was referring to sari as a garment and not the metaphorical ones he'd planted in their conversation, for his hand had traced up her arm and was going for the pin that had her aanchal pinned to the blouse.

"God! I'm leaving home and you should know there are lot more pins. I'm still not an expert" She added fearing he might pull on the sari villainously as she stepped aside and coyly attempted to walk towards the door.

"Didn't you say home is where your husband is? I'm not letting you out of my arms tonight" He yanked on her wrists from behind and tucked them close to her waist, his arm resting over hers. His warm breath over her nape, teased her skin, making her toes curl and climb one over the other. Her eyes drifted shut as his lips lingered close, but quite didn't kiss her. She let herself go limp in his hold and her head fell back onto his shoulder. His nose traced a line over the curve of her neck and it made her writhe in an eagerness for a kiss, that she thought she would break apart any minute. Almost unable to bear the sensitivities that he was sparking on her skin, she turned around, clinging to his shirt.

"I wanted to do it ever since I saw that button stuck half way in the button hole. Poor thing" She said, still holding onto the part of the shirt where she'd just released the button.

"You don't have to stop at that. You know that don't you?" He clutched her fisted hand, in an effort to persuade her to move to the next button.

"Abhi...please. Maan bhaiya and Geet will be coming" She whispered, leaning onto him entirely.

"They will be happy that you are here" He said, shifting his hand back to an embrace around her lower back.

"No we can't tell them" She nodded meeting his eyes.

"What do you mean?" His forehead creased.

"We just can't. Not right now, when the right time comes, you can"

"But what are we waiting for?" He insisted, wondering if there was something he was missing out on.

"Please Abhi...you have to trust me on this. And this time I want it all proper. I want you to come ask for my hand" She smiled with part anticipation and part excitement, along with a pessimistic voice that sounded in her head, half convincing her that he wouldn't understand it all.

"We are still married baby" He said, trying to make sense of what she'd just asked. It didn't surprise him however, given that she'd always covertly wanted the entire wedding deal, which when asked directly, she would most certainly deny it all. He was glad she was voicing out her true desires. The sari was staying up after all, he smiled at what he was reading from her words. 

"I know. But perhaps you can recreate that one little thing about the wedding, if not everything" Them signing papers in a clandestine arrangement at the registrar office, without so much as a mangal sutra, had always remained her one regret. This was her last chance of getting to have a proper bidaai and she hoped to have just that, if not the whole nine yards.

He felt the yearning in her voice, but before he could get to a strategy for what she was asking for, more tactical stuff, flooded his mind.

"Ok but I'm not staying away from you until then"

"Please..." She said with pleading eyes "We have to. We can meet, just like the old times" And now her eyes picked up a glimmer of the shadow of a past excitement.

"Oi. I'm not sneaking in, just to kiss my wife" He said, tipping her chin to meet her fallen gaze.

"Does it matter? I'm here for the last 20 mts and you haven't even tried once" She giggled now, and he sensed the candidness of it, like there was nothing there to hide any longer.

"After you left, I have forcefully acted on you way too may times don't you think?"

She cupped his cheek and closed her eyes in an apology "No...I pushed you to it"

"I love you baby" He whispered and leaned in for a kiss. That is when what he saw made him come to a standstill, arresting his movement mid-way forestalling the kiss.

Her eyes were scrunched, lips trembling, he could feel her body going cold with a shiver, just as the night he'd stolen her first kiss from her. He continued looking at her in awe, unable to break his hold or his sight of her.

"You are doing that thing again...like a caterpillar crawling on your skin"

She opened her eyes sluggishly, as if it was a trick she was falling for and took in his placid look, however, she noticed that his eyes didn't stray far from concern. She was surprised at first that he'd remembered the exact same words that had set off a chain of big changes in her life. But she eased in a smile now and drew herself closer to him. Resting her cheek on his, she whispered into his ears slowly.

"It was never a caterpillar you silly. They are a thousand flutters...wings of a butterfly that you gave me" She moved away to face him "Waiting for the one kiss you would give to steal my breath away"

He'd somehow been of the impression that the transformation was long over. He gazed at her minute long, regarding what she had just said and bent down to take her into a kiss. Somehow words wouldn't do justice at the time, he thought. And as he took her lips that night, he also came to believe in that metamorphosis, which may be could never come to a climax...not ever...not even in a lifetime.

To be continued...

THANKS so much people for all your comments. Too many R & N updates, I know, but common, there is still so much to tell about all the couples. Did I ever tell that I'm going with my initial plan of writing all the scenes I ever intended for NY times (meaning we will cross 100). So how about more comments and the like button?

Shabnoor - As for your question about his nick name, Naini took just abh from Rishabh and added i to it. LOL, sorry that I didn't clarify it earlier. Apparently according to the backstory, everyone called him Rishi at school and so went for the second half of his name.