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<--- OMY - It's Adam Levine. I have rediscovered my love for him and yes that means being mentioned in this post.
1. Blame my tutor on the lack and quantity and quality of the chapter as they are too busy messing with our brains which brings back to my second point that'
2. I have nothing to look forward to except the weekends (Which I have spent mostly out, so you can blame me a little but for majority blame- go back to point 1).Are my eyes decieving me or are we really soon coming to an end of a thread? Shocker. Thanks everyone! I know this chapter isn't great and all but hoping to make the next one longer and better so bear with me and my muddled up brain. -----------------------Not proofread-
I am in love with you'.
Maanvi had always been taught that love was a triumph. It solved any problem as long as your loved ones were with you. She had witnessed the love that her father and mother shared; she was too young to understand the degree of it but understood the affection as something great. Maanvi, like some girls had not wished for a lover who would ride on a white horse and take her away cause for one thing, she was terrified of horses and on the other, it was less of a horse riding and more of a horse stroll which had always made her purse her lips together and try not to laugh at the poor grooms at weddings. She just wanted a guy who would declare these three words to her sincerely not insult her in the same sentence but at the same time, she feared the words. She should have known the day she fell in love with Virat Egoistic Vadhera, that nothing of her imagination will remain.
Her wide eyes looked away, from him and she began to walk away... in defeat, in remorse and anger but a hand held her back. 'Where are you going?' he asked, softly. Turning her around to see her anger turning into tears and running down her cheek. She brushed his hand away in confusion, not sure why she was crying. He cupped her face but he didn't budge, he moved closer; tilting her chin up to face him. He wiped away the fresh tears that ran down her face. She noticed his eyes held surprise and some hurt. 'Good', she thought. He was hurt as she was. She pushed him back and began to walk the other way but he held her hand. 'You're making fun of me?' he gritted, his other hand going around her waist and clutching her closer making her wince. His hands fell to his side and he walked to the other side of the room, dragging his hand through his hair in frustration.
'You declare to love me yet insult me in the same sentence', she stated out and he turned around abruptly. He wasn't expecting this. He felt relief in the moment that his words were not rejected. 'You don't think it's a problem that I am in love with you?' he asked, rhetorically; smirking. 'You don't think it's a problem that you have no other options but to belong to me', he stated, walking over to her. 'That my way is the right way', he added, watching the flicker of emotions in her eyes. 'You don't think it's a problem Maanvi?' he asked again.
She was confused to say the least. She hadn't expected that the problem that he had pointed out was to do with falling in love with a person like him. A person who demanded love in return, who thought he was the sole decision maker in their life and who believed that she belonged to him. 'I am not something to possess Virat', she called out; her voice steady and without sarcasm. 'I possess everything in my life' was his answer. An answer that wasn't surprising to her nonetheless, it made her fight back. 'You don't own me'.
'Don't I?' he asked her rapidly as if surprised which made her anger rise higher. 'Go away', she snapped at him, not having the energy to think of a comeback or a witty comment. 'Not before you tell me how much you love me and can't live without me?' he answered, still keeping the smirk; waiting for the dramatic reaction. 'And there it was', he thought, his smile turning into a grin. Maanvi's jaw dropped, her eyes blinking rapidly. Did he think this was all a joke? That he can come in and tell her he loved her and then say it's a problem for her and adding a cherry on top, demanding that she would say it back? A part of her suddenly wanted to shake and call her to think about this. The man that she loved was replicating her love back but her inner feminist wanted to shut the girlish and tell her to snap out of her romantic dreams and focus on the fact that he was insulting her. 'I am sorry, all I heard was blah, blah, blah', she answered, crossing her arms. Safe to say, the inner feminist had won.
'Come', he said, holding out his hand and she held it, as a reflex. Feeling the warm hand as comforting. 'Let's go', he stated, walking over to the door and she tugged it in repulse. 'Where are you going?' she asked, confusedly. 'What are you scared of?' he asked to which she looked up to him in confusion. He cupped her cheek and placed a kiss on her forehead before moving back. 'Why are you scared of admitting that you love me?' he asked softly and she shook her head, the confusion rising again. 'I am not scared', she answered. 'You think you will lure me into having an argument with you but not notice your tears?'
She stood silent, watching him carefully. 'You cry when you're afraid Maanvi. Not angry or happy. It's always fear', he concluded as the tears brimmed her eyes and he moved forward, hugging her closer and tighter. 'When I-' she stuttered, still crying and he brushed back the fringe from her face, comforting her into saying what she had to. 'When I love someone, they die', she spoke out. 'Mamma and Papa died. I almost lost myself too'.
She had been fighting her own battles, finding reasons to look at anything but the fear rising inside her. That she will lose him. She will voice her love for him and he would be lost to her. 'Maanvi, you saved me from the hell I was running in. How can you claim lives when you are giving?' he questioned, offended and angry. 'Come', he offered her the hand again and this time she hesitantly looked at it. 'Do you trust me?' he asked again and she knew that she did. A voice called out to go with him, wherever he was going. She nodded before placing her hand in his and he walked out of the room in to the hallway of rooms. 'Which one is Beeji's?' he asked to which she looked up, shocked and horrified. 'Please don't', she pleaded, tugging on his arm to go from here. 'The faster you tell me, the faster I am out of here'.
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