Hey there...! Don't know if u remember me...i am a big fan of your FF and used to follow it regularly till a few months ago. I was off IF for a while...i'm back now..thanks for all the PMs!😊 read the whole story again!! It's so awesome! I'm so happy the whole shyam fiasco brings them closer rather than distancing her from him more. Loved this side of Arnav- repentant, desperate for her forgiveness and love, and going to such lengths for it...Wow...that's how i always dreamt he truly was, deep down. No wonder Khushi can't help but forgive him and move on. I love their intimacy, it's so beautiful and touching. 😊 Your description and detailing is excellent, be it Khushi's dilemma or Arnav's repenantance. I actually feel like i'm in the story. You're an amazing writer!👏 I'm absolutely a huge fan of you and the story! Hats off!⭐️
Chapter Thirty Eight
Khushi snuggled deeper into the comforting warmth she was cushioned in, her arm automatically finding its way around the figure she had been hugging to herself as she fitfully slept the night away, fingers curling into a loop of fabric.
A collar.
She was not entirely awake. Just as dawn brings a brief moment of parley between day and night, when light and dark exist side by side, when wakefulness and stupor are comrades in arms, those precious few seconds right before one emerges out of deep slumber, are a curious mix of dreams and reality. Khushi had been floating in the deeper, cooler waters, calm, still. Submerged under their undulating, lapping surface, all noise surrounding her, the ticking of the clock, the gentle swish of curtains against the breeze from doors left open onto the pool, the faint chirping of birds greeting a new day, was blocked out of consciousness. Calm, untroubled slumber, for the first time in so many nights. Drifting gently into shallower waters of conscious thought, those faint sounds, familiar in their ordinariness, began to reach her through the lull of water, mingling with the substance of dreams, creating that rare little universe that is real and unreal at the same time, halfway between the realm of sleep and the world of the wakeful.
The whisper of the curtains against the breeze was the first sound to register. She swam towards it, faint concern causing ripples in the water, its profoundness thinning as she neared shore...the cold morning air sneaking into the room nipped at her, and she cuddled deeper into the warmth she was engulfed in, sure that it would dispel the chill, protect her...that surety was there, it kept her afloat, kept her from drowning...that she was safe, she was secure...she knew it...even the brief flicker, the shadow, of the serpent that had poisoned the waters had withered to dust against the fiery warmth of her protector, her saviour...she wouldn't have come to him if she didn't know he would shield her, believe her, wouldn't sleep soundly if she hadn't trusted him, hadn't known...
Trusted him...
It had never been a matter of forgiveness...it was a matter of trust...a recent-yet-aged epiphany, transporting Khushi for a moment out of the water and into a hospital wardroom, pleasant with bouquets of scented flowers dotting it, shafts of sunlight cleaving the air through half-shut blinds, twinkling eyes smiling at her...
Another epiphany...if she couldn't believe in him, she couldn't trust him...if she couldn't trust him...she couldn't love him...
Back in the water, lazily swimming to shore, Khushi countered that hypothesis with a more recent revelation. She did believe him...believe in him...trusted him...
So if she trusted him...that must mean...
That she loved him.
Of course she loved him.
She was slightly puzzled. There had never been any doubt.
She always had.
Always...had...loved...?
Khushi's eyes flew upon, and the sharp sting of cool air as she sprung out of the pool of dreams rinsed her mind abruptly of all sleep.
She was in bed. Wrapped snugly under a duvet. With familiar, muscled arms entwined about her. Cloistered in his hold, her head tucked against his chest. His scent...hai Devi Maiyya!...her arms chained about his neck...
Khushi jumped back as though a million volts of current had just zapped through her.
Or at least, she tried to jump back. Because the arms that had been draped about her had sharply jerked her back.
And Khushi, her thoughts scampering randomly in every direction, like a flock of sheep in a farmyard scare, found herself staring into a pair of burning honey-amber eyes, silently laughing at the obvious shock she felt scored across her face.
He was awake. He had been awake this whole time...
Or maybe, a tiny hopeful voice in the back of her mind pondered, he just woke up and didn't realise that you were-
But a rakshas would always be a rakshas, and he leant closer, his scent dipping Khushi's senses in their liquor, and whispered softly, 'Are you still feeling cold?'
What an absurd question. How could Khushi be feeling cold, when it felt as though a bucket load of lava had just capsized inside her? The self-made manacles of her arms about his neck snapped apart as though scalded, even as Khushi fought to focus somewhere other than his knowing eyes, eyes which shamelessly recounted their knowledge of exactly how Khushi had clung to him all night, hugging him as though for dear life, inching closer, deeper, coveting more of that comfort...
Khushi wondered, not for the first time, whether one could combust into flames.
Because, pinned here, captive to his eyes, to his arms, chances of escape were scant. And escape was necessary. Or else, Khushi was going to have a heart attack first thing in the morning. Her dhak dhak was rocketing about, rivalling thunder, so loud she was sure that he did not need to lay his ear against her heart to hear it.
But he seemed to have other plans. For while Khushi's agitated mind fought for a foothold to get its bearings straight, Arnav's face had moved even closer. She felt a particularly vehement streak of lightning scorch her to the tips of her toes as he nudged his nose against hers, murmuring almost seductively, 'Good morning.'
Perhaps it was because she had just awoken, and her senses after a night of rest were still benumbed, but his voice sounded even more impossibly husky than it already was. Each note brushed against her, sending tremors running up and down her spine, just as the roughness of his stubbled chin as it bumped into hers did.
It took some time for Khushi's muddled brain to notice that he was patiently waiting for a response. That, and the fact that a pleased, almost smug smirk was budding across his face, served to rile the irritable creature that resided within her, and never failed to grab the bait at his displays of self-satisfaction. She scrambled to answer.
'G-good morning,' she whispered back, deliberately keeping her voice very low, knowing it would come out as hoarse as his if she spoke any louder.
And then he smiled at her, smiled so gently, so contentedly, that Khushi was disarmed once more. Where had the smirk gone, she wondered frantically, the unstable frequency of her dhak dhak convincing her that it had been less injurious to her health. She made to push off the duvet...she had to get out, had to be alone, with a clear mind and regular heartbeat...so she could think about her latest epiphany in peace...
'No.' One short command, and he snatched the duvet out of her fumbling grasp and yanked it back over them.
Khushi shot a glance at him and immediately looked away, fearing a retreat into lunacy. Before she could argue however, he had buried his head into her neck and mumbled, 'It's still really early...go back to sleep.'
The fact that she could even comprehend what he was saying was a miracle. All Khushi could feel was him. Swamped by his complete, overbearing presence, his unrelenting hold on her inflexible, and now his coarse cheek, the tip of his aquiline nose, were charring to ash the skin against her neck. Her heart pounded insanely.
Dhakdhakdhak. Dhakdhakdhak.
'Um...' Khushi mumbled, so meekly she sounded close to terrified, 'Arnavji...I have to...'
'The morning prayers aren't until another hour, Khushi.'
And Khushi lost all control over her vocal chords, thanks to the fact that, as he murmured sinuously against her skin, his lips brushed against her nape. Her nerves crackled from the shock of current raging through her.
He was nuzzling the side of her neck. Khushi, unable to handle the dizzying sensation that sent her reeling, clutched onto the material of his shirt, bunching it up at the shoulders, trying to rope back her hurtling mind, her rampaging heart. Her eyelids had dropped shut. She could not move...
His lips had moved to her ear. Just as two nights ago, he had traced its curves with his wicked mouth, he explored it again, devastatingly slowly, destroying Khushi's senses utterly. Her lungs seemed unable to handle the strain, and emptied its contents, leaving Khushi in woeful lack of oxygen, her mind growing light, trains of incomplete thought flitting away. She gasped for breath, while his arm locked itself over her, her back against the bed, pinning her in place. Not that Khushi was in any position to hatch an escape plan.
'Did you sleep well?' his silken whisper raised the tiny hairs against the back of her neck, quivers chasing each other up her spine as she trembled. His breath blew into her ear as he spoke. She was going to pass out any minute now. Unable to detect her voice, she managed to nod once.
'Me too...'
Memories of the previous night came flooding back to her. How he had carried her in from the poolside, and laid her below the awning of twinkling star-lights on the ceiling...how he had listened to her heartbeat...how the feel of him as his body settled flush against hers, ever so carefully, his hair, surprisingly soft, tickling, teasing, the skin against her jaw...how he had kissed her softly on the forehead before whispering, 'Good night, dragonfly...'...
Khushi was beginning to understand that some things did not need explanation. They just happened because they were meant to. For instance, after a night of complete oblivion she had awoken today to find her heart and her mind standing side by side, hand in hand, right in front of the door at the end of her brightly-lit corridor...all that remained for her to do would be to reach out and push it open...
***
Arnav Singh Raizada had awoken to the best morning of his life.
His wife was curled up in his arms, holding him to her...blanketed by her sweet aroma, her unimaginable softness, her warmth, he had had the best night of sleep for as long as he could remember. Waking up to that, rational thinking had promptly flown out the window.
And it was not simply her physical presence that finally opened the gateways into dreamland for him. It had been more than that.
It had been the fact that last night, she had allowed him, given him permission, to meet her heart, listen to it singing for him...willingly letting him come so close to her...last night, he had seen her support for him in her eyes, her pain for his pain, her belief in his promises, all blazing obstinately, assertively, telling him without words something that he could not dare to believe...
...she had forgiven him.
No, it was too fantastic, too incredible to believe. How could she forgive him, when he could never forgive himself? But it had been there, that silent conveyance of faith, far too vivid to be imagination...
And then she had stirred, coming to her senses all at once, and tried to bound out of bed.
Only Arnav was not in any mood to let his personal sunshine walk out of reach. He had held himself back, starved himself, for too long. Parched, he needed to quench his thirst for her. True, there were still some distances they needed to bridge, still some words left unspoken, before he could show her, without any restraint, exactly how much he needed her, wanted her, loved her. She was still new to the feelings he embraced and exulted in, and surfing on their tides, he knew that it would take time before she would welcome these stormy, mystifying emotions, treasure them, as he did...but his policy had not changed. Mrs. Khushi Singh Raizada would not under any circumstances be allowed to forget her husband. Her husband, who relished in the effect he had on her, coveted the thrill that possessed him, delighted in her innocent allure...intent on seizing every moment to show her that he loved her...
After all, he had been punished with two nights without Khushi, two nights without sleep, and now glumly awaited two whole days, forty-eight hours, without her in his house, in his world. He deserved to indulge. It was little compensation, but he would salvage what he could to survive...
And then he would have to deal with Di. But he would manage. Because like he had said, this time, Khushi was with him. If not physically...then emotionally.
***
'Arnavji, please...I haven't even packed my bags yet!' Khushi squeaked in desperation.
'Hmm...all the more reason I shouldn't let go.'
'What?' Khushi yelped in pure disbelief, jerking backwards so that her shock-rounded eyes could stare at his face. He gazed steadily back at her, without blinking. Only his lips gave him away. A corner had curved upwards into half a mischievous smirk. Khushi tried steadfastly to ignore what the sight did to the poor composure she had managed to rescue, sending it pelting over the locomotives of her thought, crashing into each other.
'Arnavji! I have to go! I need to pack, need to go for aarti, help with breakfast...and Bauji's getting discharged today!' she rattled it all off in one breath, then pouted at him disconsolately when he did not show any signs of releasing her.
After a slight pause, he sighed. The playfulness vanished into thin air. 'I know...' he mumbled, heaving to one side until she was flat on her back once again, and he was hovering above her, with his arms propped on either side of her. She stared up at the earnestness with which he held her gaze. 'I just - don't like sharing.'
Something sparked between them, some invisible streak of electricity, some telepathic connection...and Khushi forgot all about the urgency of getting out of bed. Once again, and she had lost count of the times it had happened already, she found herself sucked into the eddying pools of caramel that were his eyes, caught in their hypnotic trance, caught in the love, the devotion, the promises gushing out of them every minute, inundating her headily...her dhak dhak practised alongside a well-known tune that erased the world and its worries from existence...the melody that hummed the tale of hearts, their hearts...
She wondered vaguely whether the promise that was forever aglow in his eyes were visible in hers.
The thought sobered her up. Instinctively, she shut her eyes, lamenting her hopeless lack of discretion. She knew she was blushing again, blushing hard.
Still with her eyes closed, Khushi pleaded, 'Arnavji...we really need to get up now...'
There was a few seconds of silence. Then-
'On one condition.'
Khushi's eyes flew open in an instant. Another condition?! Why does there have to be a condition for everything?
Her annoyance must have been visible on her face, for Arnav murmured, with that tilted smirk that always stopped her heartbeat, 'Or else I'm not letting you out of here.'
Khushi felt her face overheat, wondering for the second time that morning whether the pitch of her heartbeat was liable to send her into cardiac arrest. She muttered defiantly, already flummoxed and not thinking straight, 'You're going to have to make do with Hari Prakashji's coffee for the next two days...there's nothing I can do about it.'
If she had hoped that was a valid argument, she was evidently mistaken. Arnav's smirk grew all the more pronounced, the smile reaching his eyes. 'So you remembered that, did you?' he muttered, an undertone of affection making Khushi wish a hole would open up in the bed and swallow her up. But she could not finish her complaint to Devi Maiyya for not helping her hold her tongue, for at moment, her husband had planted a firm, purposeful kiss on her cheek, arresting even her capability to think.
'Thanks,' he said in a low voice as he withdrew. Then added matter-of-factly, as though it ought to clarify any confusion, 'For remembering.'
Khushi could feel the inexorable pull of his eyes once more, knew that he was getting distracted again just when he had started being reasonable.
'Your condition,' she reminded him quickly.
The shadow of a smile flickered on his face, before he captured her gaze once more.
'Khushi', he began softly, and she could immediately tell that he was being serious. Unknowingly, her whole being zoned into what he was saying, 'Today, in the afternoon...I'm going to be coming to Buaji's house to pick you up.'
Khushi frowned in bemusement. He knew they were supposed to stay for two days, then why-
'We won't be gone long...I'll drop you back later...it's just...the condition is...' he hesitated, as though having trouble framing the words to explain what he wanted to say. Khushi felt a powerful rush of fondness for him, the uncertainty, the slight fear of being refused, visible in his expression. If only he knew that it was not humanly possible for her to refuse him anymore.
'I want- to give you something...' he stared intently into her eyes, that desperation that she had become familiar with alighting again, 'the condition is...the condition is...you'll have to accept it. Will you?'
Khushi handed over to her heart. She nodded in acquiesance.
'Thank you.' Arnav's eyes closed for a brief moment, but not before Khushi glimpsed the relief in them.
'What is it?' she heard herself ask quietly.
Arnav smiled gently at her, 'It's a surprise...you'll see.'
Likes and comments, pretty pretty please??? I truly appreciate all response, they make my day every single time :)
Not much Shyam or Anji here, so there will be more of that next update...
Oh, and a little shoutout to my friend hilly, 'You are really one sweet person, you know that? I literally blushed reading your last few comments. And to show my gratitude, maybe I will take your suggestion and write an Eid special update- with Arnav's surprise to Khushi in it. What say? :P'
I reserve all rights over this work of fiction and request that readers do not reproduce/copy/modify it elsewhere and/or claim credit. Thanks :)
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