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Wish Upon A Star - ArSh FF (P16, pg 58) (Page 18)

DulceAmor IF-Rockerz
DulceAmor
DulceAmor

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Posts: 8395

Posted: 16 January 2012 at 4:59am | IP Logged
Originally posted by moonlight2630

nice update
feel bad for ARSH.
plz do pm me 
update soon.



Hey, thanks for reading and leaving this comment. I'm pleased that you liked it and that you could sympathise with Armaan & Shilpa. I will add you to the PM list. Thanks for wanting to read more. Embarrassed

anumeha_rajat IF-Sizzlerz
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Posted: 18 January 2012 at 6:09am | IP Logged

simply amazing n superb part..

her aunt is such a  *****

hate her..

hope armi bring a new hope in her life..

thnx for the pm...

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DulceAmor

DulceAmor IF-Rockerz
DulceAmor
DulceAmor

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Posts: 8395

Posted: 18 January 2012 at 7:19am | IP Logged
Originally posted by anumeha_rajat

simply amazing n superb part..

her aunt is such a  *****

hate her..

hope armi bring a new hope in her life..

thnx for the pm...



Thanks hun, really glad you enjoyed it. Lol, good that you hate her, she is indeed a nasty piece of work, but Armaan isn't the type to sit back and take it. He's determined to protect Shona any way he can, even if he doesn't really understand why he feels the desire to do so. Embarrassed
DulceAmor IF-Rockerz
DulceAmor
DulceAmor

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Posts: 8395

Posted: 18 January 2012 at 2:01pm | IP Logged
Hey everyone, first of, thank you for all your comments on the last parts. Hug   I know the last two parts haven't seen any ArSh interaction, but I plan from now on to have an ArSh scene in every update because from now it's all about their continuing bond. So, without wasting any more time with my useless chatter, here is the new update. Please ignore any errors or mistakes. And yes, please do like/comment/criticise.


Chapter 6

His eyes never left hers. Those crystal-clear blue irises were fixed on her, as if she were the only thing in the room that he saw, as if she were his centre of gravity. And she couldn't tear her own eyes away. His held her, as securely as a chain, drawing her in till she really did feel as if she were drowning in them. They were so deep and mesmerising and when they looked at her with that glowing light in them she felt breathless and light-headed, but in a good way. Little rushes of excitement were travelling down her nerve ends and suddenly all the pain and tiredness faded from her consciousness.

            Her heart was thrumming as he stepped up to her bed. And as she gazed at him she was hit with a jolt of familiarity. I've seen him before, she realised. But where? Her mind was all a haze. Images flickered here and there, but they were insubstantial and before she could get a firm grip on them they had faded again. His voice had been in her dream; he could have been there that day...

            But that was impossible. He was only a couple of years older than her by the looks of things. He would have had to have been a child and the voice in her dream had been a man's, his voice as it was now. But it had definitely been his voice and the more she looked at him, the greater was her sense that she knew him, that they were connected somehow.

            Her eyes ran over him, taking in his whole appearance, noting every last detail. His hair was all sticking up at odd angles, there was a shadow of stubble across his jaw, and dark circles under those bright blue eyes. His clothes were all rumpled and there were dark red splotches on his jeans and his shirt. Blood, her brain informed her helpfully.

            And then it hit her. Like a tidal wave crashing into a shore her mind exploded with images. She remembered how he'd pulled her out of the road, how she'd yelled at him, how those blue eyes had been angry one moment and tender the next, how all the time she'd felt a strange kinship with him, how he'd held her while she cried.

            Her cheeks started to burn with embarrassment as she recalled how she'd clung to him, how she'd wetted his shirt with all of her tears. And yet, he hadn't laughed at her, he hadn't pushed her away. He'd held her in those strong arms of his, he'd looked at her with a burning light in his eyes that had made her feel safe. He'd understood.

            Armaan watched the emotions chase one another across her face, lighting up her eyes which had seemed so shadowed when he first stepped into the room. It was like a switch had been flicked and now she had come alive. Her skin was still terribly pale, but two spots of colour were appearing on her cheeks, making her face glow. Her lips were parted slightly, and the expression made her look incredibly innocent, almost childlike. The bandage wound round her forehead only added to that impression and he had to stop himself from walking right up to her and taking her in his arms. He wanted to hold her, to feel her hair between his fingers, the firmness of her body in his arms, to reassure himself that she was real and not an illusion.

            He barely registered the three other sets of eyes on him. She was all that filled his vision and his eyes ran over her almost hungrily. They'd dressed her in the standard issue hospital gown, a pale blue that had the unfortunate effect of making her skin look bloodless. Her hair hung limp about her shoulders, there were cuts etched all the way down her arms, and her right leg was encased in plaster cast. But she still looked beautiful. In fact, if anything, he found her more enchanting now than he had done before.

            His heart gave a strange little skip and suddenly, he didn't know what to say. He felt shy, something he'd never been. In college days his friends had joked that he had a PhD in charming the girls. He was always confident, always cool. But standing there, staring into those luminous green eyes, he was totally and utterly tongue-tied.

            Shilpa's aunt, however, didn't have that problem.

            "Who are you?" she demanded, eyeing him like you would an insect that's just crawled into your house. It was an actual physical effort for him to tear his eyes away from Shilpa and look at her aunt, but he forced himself to do it. He met those glowering dark eyes and instantly he remembered why he'd stepped inside the room in the first place. Anger darted through him at the memory of all he'd heard and his mind snapped back to attention.

            "I'm Armaan," he replied, fixing a wide, fake smile onto his face. He hoped it was patronising. "Armaan Malik. We met earlier in the reception area. I'm the one who witnessed Shilpa's accident. I brought her in."

            He held out his hand, even though he knew the aunt wouldn't accept it. When she just glanced disdainfully down at it and then back up at his face, he widened his smile.

            "Of course, you were probably too anxious about your niece's welfare to pay much attention to me," he said, sarcasm dripping from his every word.

            Everyone in the room was staring at him, but it didn't bother him. He itched to turn and glance at Shilpa, to see what expression was on her face, but he didn't dare take his eyes off her aunt. One thing he knew was that the first rule of battle is to never give your opponent and advantage.

            If he had of looked, he would have seen the look of astonishment on Shilpa's face. She stared at his back, her heart hammering, wondering if she was dreaming again. No one had ever spoken to her aunt like that. Everyone was scared of her and ran cowering like she was a dragon breathing fire whenever she so much as glanced in their direction. Yet here was this man, not only meeting her formidable gaze unflinchingly, but daring to challenge her attitude too. She couldn't decide if he was crazy or fearless or maybe a bit of both.

            She'd never admired anyone more.

            "I was coming to check on Shilpa," he did throw a glance in her direction then and his smile momentarily softened, becoming genuine and warm. He saw her eyes widen for a brief second, the colour deepening to a rich shade of emerald, and then he quickly turned his attention back to her aunt. "As I was approaching I happened to catch the last of your conversation. Forgive me, but you appear to have the wrong idea about what actually happened."

            Vasu's eyes narrowed to the point that they became two tiny black slits. Shilpa held her breath, trying to quell the anxious racing of her pulse. Her aunt had taken on a feral look and she feared for Armaan should she lose her temper completely. For a moment she contemplated reaching out and grabbing his arm, but the stiffness and pain in her body prevented her from moving.

            "I can assure you, ma'am, I was there, I saw what happened, and Shilpa didn't walk out in front of the car on purpose," Armaan said, staring pointedly back at her aunt. "She was walking home when we bumped into each other. We studied in college together and I recognised her right away."

            He shot her a quick look and gave her a small wink. It all happened in a flash, so much so she wondered if she'd imagined it. But the heavy thud of her heart against her rib cage suggested otherwise. And then he carried on and she was left reeling.

            " If anyone is to blame it is me. It was me who stopped her and started to talk to her. She said she was in a hurry, but I kept talking at her. That was why, when she finally got me to shut up, she started to hurry across the street. She was anxious to get home, out the cold. She didn't see the car coming until it was too late."

            Tears pricked the backs of Shilpa's eyes and she had to bow her head to blink them back. So many powerful feelings were crashing about inside her that she didn't know exactly how she felt. Shock, wonder, delight, all whirled about, making her head spin and her breath catch in her chest.

            No one had ever bothered to fight her corner before this and, truthfully, she'd given up looking for an ally a long time ago. She'd come to think that her aunt's displeasure was a punishment she had to bear and that meeting it with silence and submission was the only option. In her more optimistic moments she would long to have the courage to speak back to her, but she knew in her heart that she never would. She'd known, too, that her battle was a lonely one and she'd never find a knight in shining armour. That kind of thing only happened in fairytales.

            Why Armaan was defending her, she had no idea. She barely knew him, and, quite frankly, she didn't think she'd given him any reason to support her. In the short space of time they'd spent together, she'd managed to shout at him for saving her life, spill his vodka, and get snot all over his jumper. Oh, and she'd treated him to a horrific accident that would likely leave him suffering traumatising flashbacks for months.

            Really he should have taken to his heels and ran in the opposite direction. She certainly wouldn't have blamed him.

            But he hadn't, and that fact overwhelmed her more than anything.

            "So you see, it wasn't Shilpa's fault," Armaan said clearly, a hint of steel in his words. "It was an accident, plain and simple."

            Vasu's entire face turned scarlet, but Armaan wasn't fazed. In fact, he was glad he'd pissed her off. It meant that his words were hitting their target, which was exactly what he'd intended.

            "But, I'm sure, you know that already. You are just a little in shock right now. It's only natural." The smile he gave her was mocking. Vasu bristled.

            "So this is why you left Anjali all alone at her party?" she snapped at Shilpa. "So you could meet this man?"

            Shilpa's eyes widened in horror and she shook her head. "No, Massi, I-"

            "I can smell alcohol on his breath," Vasu continued. "Is that what you were doing? Sneaking off to drink with him? Disgusting! I didn't think you could disappoint me any more than you already had."

            "Vasu!" Mohan cried, his face flushed bright red.

            Shilpa bowed her head, fighting back tears. A fierce lump had worked its way up her throat and she could feel it scraping the sides of her throat raw. Armaan couldn't see her face, but he did notice the tremor in her shoulders and the way she was slumped over made him think of a bird with a broken wing, trying to shelter itself from a storm. He turned back to Vasu, temper hardening his expression.

            "How dare you speak to her like that?" he demanded. "Can't you see that she's hurting? She nearly died tonight and you are sitting there criticising her! Don't you have any shame?"

            "How dare you speak to me like that?" Vasu cried, eyes bulging till the blood vessels stood out in sharp relief. "I am elder to you! Show some respect!"

            "You don't deserve any respect!" Armaan yelled, stepping forward, hand clenched by his side.

            All the anger and frustration that he'd been feeling since that last six months swelled up in him and there was no way to contain it anymore. A red haze floated in front of his eyes, he could taste copper in the back of his mouth, and he wanted to scream till he was hoarse. He took another step forward, the urge to hit something building within him, tensing his every muscle.

            And then she spoke.

            "Armaan! No!"

            It was the first time she had said his name and it sent a jolt of electricity through him, rooting him to the spot. He'd heard his name enough times in his life before, but never had he heard it spoken like that, as if it were something exotic and special. She made it sound like the name of a prince and the way she rolled the 'r' made his skin shiver with pleasure.

            He paused, heart hammering, and realised that his anger had dissipated. There wasn't so much as a prickle of it left. Instead his veins hummed with something perilously close to contentment. He couldn't be sure, having not experienced happier emotions in a while, but there was certainly a warm glow spreading through his body. It was calming and soothing and he had to close his eyes for a second to savour it.

            When he opened them he turned to look at her. She had leaned forward even though it was obviously painful for her, and those large eyes were wide with imploring. They met his and he felt as if she were looking right through into his mind, his heart. And though she didn't say a word, he understood what she was trying to convey.

            "I'm sorry," he said, though whether he was speaking to her or her aunt he wasn't quite sure.

            The barest hint of a smile touched her lips and her eyes softened, losing some of that awful dismay. His heart did a leap and he quickly looked away, feeling oddly breathless all of a sudden.

            As if on cue, Dr Hughes appeared in the doorway. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but Shilpa really does need her rest," he said. "You can come back and visit her tomorrow. She should be feeling more like herself by then."

            Her aunt grunted and rose to her feet. She didn't bother to say goodbye to Shilpa, she simply strode over to the door and walked out, her head held high in the air as if everyone else were beneath her.

            Armaan watched out the corner of his eye as Shilpa's uncle stood up and reached over to squeeze her hand. He gave her a half-smile that was tinged with sadness, and then he too left, nodding to Armaan as he passed him. Anjali, meanwhile, flicked her mane of hair behind her shoulder and shot her cousin a condescending look.

            "You better recover fast, Shilpa," she told her. "And, by the way, that plaster cast looks ridiculous on you."

            With that, she sashayed over to Armaan, pausing to give him a look up and down. It wasn't approving.

            "Urgh!" she exclaimed. "Mama was right, you do stink of alcohol. I never knew you had such bad taste in men, Shilpa. I don't know why I'm surprised."

            Armaan cocked his eyebrow at her, but she merely curled her lip at him contemptuously and then stalked out of the room, her heels clicking loudly on the linoleum floor.

            He hesitated, not wanting to leave, but conscious of the doctor's eyes on him. His cheeks started to feel warm as he glanced shyly over at Shilpa, wondering what exactly to say now that her aunt was gone. Those green eyes stared back at him, an odd light in them. Suddenly he felt like a fool and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, scuffing the floor with the toe of his trainer.

            "Uh, bye, I guess," he heard himself say, sounding like a teenage dork. He mentally winced.

            "Bye," she replied softly, the corners of her eyes creasing.

            He gave her a quick smile and then hurried out the room. She watched the door swing shut behind him, holding back the tight bubble in her chest. As soon as the door clicked back into place she closed her eyes and breathed out slowly.

            She would not cry, she told herself sternly. There was no reason to cry. What had she expected, that he would stay there all night? She had no right to feel upset that he'd left. It wasn't like he was her boyfriend or anything, that could justify this crushing weight she was feeling in her chest. He was a stranger, a kind-hearted, brave stranger, yes, but a stranger nonetheless. She probably wouldn't ever see him again.

            She sucked in a deep, sobbing breath.

            "She really upset you, didn't she?"

            Her head snapped up at the sound of the voice, her eyes flying open. She couldn't see at first through the maze of her tears, but after several furious blinks images started to coalesce and the figure standing at the foot of her bed came into focus.

            "Armaan?" Her heart did a massive somersault. He gave her a rather goofy smile that made him look impossibly cute, despite the tousled hair and blood-stained clothes. Two dimples flashed on either side of his mouth and she tried not to focus on how adorable they were.

            "Hey," he said. "I snuck back in. I just...I just couldn't leave without speaking to you."

            Her cheeks started to burn. She hoped it wasn't obvious.

            "Are you okay? I mean, yeah, I know you've broken your leg and all, and some of your ribs, and you hit your head pretty bad, so obviously you're gonna be in pain." Stop rambling he told himself. His palms were actually sweating and it didn't help that her frown was getting deeper etched into her forehead with each new word he uttered. "But what I mean, is, are you all right after everything your aunt said to you?"

            "I'm used to it," Shilpa replied, glancing down. "She doesn't like me much." She tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.

            Armaan moved so he could sit on the side of the bed. She felt the weight of his body on the bed as he sat down and her pulse gave a leap. She was acutely aware of the small amount of space between them. His knee rested close to her side and she could almost feel the heat pulsing off of his skin. The air felt charged all of a sudden, as if it were full of electricity. She swallowed and resolutely kept her eyes on her folded hands.

            "I didn't make things worse for you, did I?" Armaan asked quietly.

            "No, you didn't." She took a deep breath and looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "Thank you, for saying what you did. You didn't have any reason to stand up for me, but you did. I really appreciate it."

            This time when she smiled it wasn't an effort. It lit up her eyes, turning them jade. Armaan gazed into them wondrously, struck by how modest she was. How could anyone be so cruel to someone so obviously angelic, he wondered?

            "What do you mean no reason?" he asked. "I couldn't just stand there and let her abuse you like that."

            "But...you don't know me. Not really," she pointed out. "And most of the people I know, my own relatives, would never have done what you did."

            "Then your relatives are cowardly assholes," he said with feeling.

            Shilpa snorted, an actual grin breaking across her face. "Did you just insult my relatives?" she asked, arching her eyebrows impishly.

            Armaan grinned right back at her and shrugged his shoulders. "It's the truth. They don't deserve to have you in their lives if they can stand by and watch her treat you like that."

            Shilpa's smile faded and he saw her eyes cloud over a little. She started to run her fingers over the back of her hand, the nails leaving marks in her skin.

            "They think she's right," she said softly. "They feel sorry for her, having to put up with me."

            "What?" Armaan's brows slid into a scowl, annoyance prickling along his skin. "How can they think like that? What's wrong with them?"

            "You don't know me." Her voice was so low it was almost inaudible. "You don't know what I've done."

            He could see the shimmer of tears in her eyes and it caused a stabbing pain deep in his chest. Without thinking he reached out and curled his hand about hers, squeezing it tight. He leaned closer, peering up at her with wide, urgent eyes.

            "Listen to me, Shilpa. Whatever you might have done, you don't deserve to be treated like that. They are your family. They should support you."

            She shook her head, fighting back the tears. "You don't know," she repeated.

            He squeezed her hand tighter. "No, you're wrong. I do know. I know that you are the kindest, loving and most patient person ever. No one less than a saint could tolerate her abuse the way you did. You have a good heart, Shilpa, I can sense it. I could sense it before, in the park."

            It both bemused and angered him that she couldn't see it. Those people must have been putting her down for so long that she believes she's worthless, he thought angrily. He couldn't understand how her own family could do this to her and he had to quell the urge to march after her aunt and give her another piece of his mind. It broke something inside him to see her like this, that look of despair in her eyes. It wasn't right; she was too beautiful, too innocent to know such anguish. More than anything he wished he knew a way to take it all away from her. He'd gladly make it his own – heck he had suffered enough that a double dose would be nothing – just to restore her happiness.

            She looked at him through her tears and his eyes shone with such conviction that it made her heart leap with a flicker of hope. All her life she'd believed that she wasn't worthy of love or happiness and that whatever she suffered was a just punishment. But, hearing Armaan's passionate speech, seeing that expression shining in his eyes, she suddenly wanted to believe him.

            "You're a good person," he said softly.

            His hand gripped hers, so strong and warm, and unconsciously she gripped it back. She stared into his eyes, feeling calmer than she had in years. His words and his touch had soothed her, turning the overpowering wall of sorrow into a mere bubble. For the first time in her life she didn't feel as if she her life was being sucked out of her, as if she were adrift in a bottomless sea and slowly sinking under. You're not alone anymore, his eyes seemed to tell her. And crazy as she knew it to be, she believed it.

            "Ahem!"

            The sound of a throat being cleared made them both jump. Armaan let go of her hand and spun round, stumbling to his feet as he did so. Shilpa tried not to dwell on the sudden well of emptiness that opened up inside her with the loss of his touch. She turned her eyes in the direction of the doorway instead and felt her embarrassment rise as she recognised Dr Hughes. He was trying to appear stern, but there was no mistaking the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  

            "Visiting hours are officially over," he said in a tone of mock-gravity.

            "Sorry," Armaan said, turning beetroot red. "I, uh, I forgot my phone."

            "Uh-huh." There was no mistaking the amusement in Dr Hughes' voice.

            Feeling like a schoolboy caught playing truant, Armaan turned back to Shilpa, mumbled a 'good night', and then scurried towards the door. She watched him go, her heart fluttering in her chest, and then she glanced over at Dr Hughes. His eyes were sparkling and full of mischief as he slowly closed the door, and just before it clicked shut he flashed her a knowing smile.

            Stunned, she sat upright in bed for a few moments, trying to digest everything that had happened that night. The warmth of Armaan's touch still burned in her hand and absently she stroked her fingers over it. He was unlike anyone she'd ever met. He was strong and fearless and yet she remembered how drunk he'd been in the park and the shadows of sadness she'd seen in his eyes. He was hurting under the surface too, she could sense it. Perhaps that was why she felt that weird sense of belonging in his presence, because he was a kindred spirit.

            Yeah, right, since when have you believed in those things, she asked herself? With a shake of her head at her wild imagination, she slowly tried to ease herself back down on the bed. She knew she should get the nurse to help, but she didn't feel like ringing the buzzer. She was used to fending for herself, anyway, why start now?

            But as she lay there she remembered how her heart had leapt when Armaan had spoken in her defence and how wonderful and safe it had felt just holding his hand. She'd felt so strong, like she could withstand anything.

            Sighing, she closed her eyes. And instantly an image of Armaan popped into her head, of his adorable dimples flashing when he grinned at her, his hair sticking up all over the place. She didn't even realise that she was smiling when she fell asleep.


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RomanceChocolat Senior Member
RomanceChocolat
RomanceChocolat

Joined: 04 September 2011
Posts: 766

Posted: 18 January 2012 at 2:05pm | IP Logged
res

after so longOuch... have to catch up with many parts... will be back after readingWink

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DulceAmor

nightstar IF-Rockerz
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Joined: 12 March 2008
Posts: 6247

Posted: 18 January 2012 at 5:11pm | IP Logged
u knw i always say the eessence of a good writer lies if h/she can make the readers heart feel the exact beat of emotions as felt by the characters..adn u my friend have done exactly that...i could feel each and every emotion running thru arsh...i mean it...i liked the whole descritption, the meticulousness with which u described eac and every detail...kudos for the amazng work

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DulceAmor

spicyheart IF-Dazzler
spicyheart
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Joined: 04 December 2008
Posts: 2829

Posted: 18 January 2012 at 5:36pm | IP Logged
wow beautiful!!
i just loved it
the way u described their feelings was just perfect
i dont think any1 could have described it better
wow! m spechless
n still in a daze
continue soon
 

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DulceAmor

-screwed.UP- IF-Dazzler
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Joined: 26 January 2011
Posts: 4464

Posted: 18 January 2012 at 9:53pm | IP Logged
fantastic update!!!
loved d way armaan tackled with dat heartless lady...wow d way u described arsh interaction was just out of d world...every bit of it seemed magical...how they forget everything just by looking into the others eyes...armaan comforting shilpa was so heavenly beautifull!!!
waiting for more:))
thnx for d pm

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DulceAmor

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