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Wish Upon A Star - ArSh FF (P16, pg 58) (Page 38)

DulceAmor IF-Rockerz
DulceAmor
DulceAmor

Joined: 01 July 2007
Posts: 8395

Posted: 03 March 2012 at 7:15am | IP Logged
Originally posted by KaShAdmirer

hey, update was quite brief,
the way you describe their pain was so real, i my self felt their sufferings.
the update was a bit depressing but the last hug vanished that depression.
waiting for some happy moments now =)
update soon.

take cares.


Brief? Really? I thought it was too long. LOL  Ahh well, it's just good you felt I brought their pain out well. Yes, it was depressing, but it was kinda meant to be cause the story is centered on all the heartache they have both suffered. It's not always gonna be as sad, though, I can promise that. I have some more light hearted moments planned, which I hope you all will enjoy. Embarrassed  I'm aiming to update at the beginning of next week. Will surely let you know when I do. Thanks so much for reading and commenting! Embarrassed

DulceAmor IF-Rockerz
DulceAmor
DulceAmor

Joined: 01 July 2007
Posts: 8395

Posted: 05 March 2012 at 1:50pm | IP Logged
Hey all, I'm back with the new update. It's shorter in comparison to some of my other updates, don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing, I'll let you all decide. LOL  I hope you find something in it to enjoy. Please do excuse any errors or mistakes as it's not been proofread. And please do leave your valuable feedback. I can't stress how much your comments mean to me.

Chapter 12

They sat like that for a while, the only sound the faint whoosh of the traffic outside. Shilpa kept brushing her fingers lightly through Armaan's hair, partly because it seemed to be calming him down – his breaths were gradually evening out and the rigidity in his back and shoulders started to ease up – but also partly because she liked it. His hair was surprisingly soft and cool against her skin and for some reason she didn't even pretend to get, it made her feel better. It gave her a sense of inner peace, something she had experienced so rarely in her life. She didn't waste the effort trying to understand it, she just clung to that feeling and wished deep down inside that she could hold onto it forever.

            Eventually, Armaan pulled back from her. Now that the rage and hurt had dissipated he felt more than a little embarrassed by his meltdown. He didn't let people see the true extent of his vulnerability very often. Oh, he'd lost it on occasions, shouted and yelled at Muskaan and others, usually because he was drunk and not in his senses. But he'd never let them inside, never admitted to them just how much his father's betrayal had scarred him. It scared him a little, then, that he'd confessed it to Shilpa, and as he glanced over at her he suddenly didn't know what to say to her.

            "I'm...I'm sorry," he said falteringly. "I didn't mean to lose it like that. I-"

            "It's okay," she interjected. Her lips curved upwards into a half-smile. "I understand. Sometimes you just need to let it out. Right?"

            His heart gave a little thud as she uttered the words he'd said to her the night they first met. It astonished him that she still remembered them, but it also filled him with a weird kind of warmth; something approaching amusement? He couldn't be sure, but he found his lips tugging upwards in response.

            "Yeah," he replied.

            He paused for a second, studying her expression. She stared steadily back at him, her green eyes a rich, dark colour, but totally without judgement. There was no trace of disgust or pity in them. In fact, she looked almost serene, kindness and understanding shining, not just in her eyes, but across her whole face.

            "Thank you," he said after a minute. That made her brow wrinkle perplexedly.

            "For what?"

            "For listening," he answered, somewhat hesitantly. He never said words like this and he found them faltering on the tip of his tongue, so that he ended up sounding bashful. "For not judging me or trying to lecture me or tell me what you think I should or should not do."

            "Why would I do that?" she asked, genuinely baffled by what he'd just said. "What your father did was inexcusable. It would be wrong to expect you to forgive him just like that."

            "Other people have," he said quietly. Something dark and terrible rippled across his face, sending chills down Shilpa's spine. Without thinking, she reached out and placed a hand over one of his.

            "Armaan, what I think is not important," she told him earnestly. He turned to look at her and those emerald eyes glowed brightly with the conviction of all she was saying. "I have no right to tell you what to do. I wasn't the one your father hurt, I'm not the one who has had to deal with the consequences of his actions. You have, and if you don't think you can forgive him then who am I to judge you?"

            It took him a few moments before he could reply, an unexpected lump of emotion blocking off his throat. He cleared it, feeling foolish and absurdly grateful all at once. "Everyone else thinks that I've lost it. My own sister is convinced I'm messed-up in my head. Why don't you?"

            Shilpa sighed, removing her hand from his and turning her eyes to the coffee table. "Well, I'm pretty messed-up in my head, so I guess I can identify." She said it flippantly, but he caught the flicker of pain in her eyes.

            "No you're not," he told her firmly. She made a scoffing sound, throwing him a sceptical sidelong glance.

            "Armaan, my own family disowned me," she reminded him. "I was so unbearable that they threatened to have me committed to a mental asylum on more than one occasion."

            "So?" he countered. "That just tells me that they are the ones with the problem, not you. They should have been more sensitive to your grief. They should have helped you with it, not acted like it was abnormal for you to miss your parents."

            "But, Armaan-"

            "No," he cut her off, eyes narrowing severely at her. "I know what you are going to say and it's not true. You have every right to mourn them. Your relatives wanted someone to blame and they chose you because you were an easy target. But, Shilpa, they were wrong."

            "I wish I could see it that way," she sighed, sounding utterly hopeless. She bowed her head, picking at her nails like maybe she could dig out all the pain inside her along with the imaginary dirt under them.

            "Shilpa, listen to me," Armaan said imploringly. Her eyes flicked to his, but she didn't turn to face him. Undeterred, he leaned closer to her. "You are not a bad person. If you were, you would have walked out on me the moment I started ranting like an idiot. But you didn't. You stayed and you listened and that tells me you have a good heart."

            His blue eyes started to glow as he spoke, lighting up his whole face, lending it a wondrous expression that made Shilpa's heart stutter. She found her head turning in his direction, as if his words were a magnetic force, pulling her in.

            "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you," he continued, his eyes sweeping over every inch of her face like he was looking at some beautiful painting or sculpture. "You're so strong and brave. Do you know how few people would be able to bear everything that you have been through? I know I never could have."

            On an impulse he reached out and brushed some of the strands of her hair back that were falling across her forehead. He tucked them behind her ear, letting the silken strands glide past his fingers.

            "You're amazing, Shilpa," he told her. "More amazing than you realise. I'm in awe of you."

            She blushed deeply, lowering her eyes, unable to withstand the burning sincerity of his gaze. No one had ever said anything like this to her before and she didn't know how to react. It left her feeling breathless and dizzy and acutely aware of his fingers as they brushed over her earlobe.

            "I don't deserve it," she murmured. His touch was sending little tingles down her nerve ends and she could feel butterflies flitting about her stomach, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

            "I'll be the judge of that," he replied firmly. And then his fingers touched the scar at her temple. "Did you get that in the accident?"

            She nodded, not daring to open her lips, afraid that if she did she might gasp. His forefinger was tracing the little ridge, just as he'd done that day in the hospital, and though his touch was light, like the brush of a feather, it was wrecking havoc inside her. Her heart was starting to race and her skin felt as if an electric current was passing through it, not to mention the fact that every nerve in her body throbbed. She didn't understand how one small touch could make her feel so intensely.

            Armaan would never know what made him do what he did next. All he knew was that her scar fascinated him...and pierced his heart. As he followed its raised edges with his finger he imagined what it must have been like for her in the accident, how terrified she must have been, trapped and injured, her parents bloody and unresponsive. It made him want to weep for her stolen innocence, for the years of happiness that had been denied to her, and the life she should have had.

            He wondered if the scar hurt, but he couldn't ask her, couldn't, in fact, seem to be able to speak at all. Dimly he realised that she was trembling. The tremors were small, almost imperceptible, but as his finger swept down across her temple he felt her shiver and suddenly all he cared about was protecting her. All he wished was that he could take away every last bit of sorrow and suffering she'd experienced in the years since the accident, and replace it with happiness. That was the only thought going on in his mind when he pressed her lips to her scar.

            Shilpa's heart thudded so hard against her ribcage that for a moment she thought it would never beat again. Then it started to race and a rush of emotions swelled up inside her, cutting the air from her lungs. Armaan's lips were soft and warm at her temple, but the pulse of pleasure that ran right through her body was like a flame. It burned through her veins, flushed her skin and made her shudder at its intensity. She'd never experienced anything like it and she had to close her eyes as she fought back the moan that had risen to her lips.

            Armaan pulled back slowly, dazedly. Shilpa's eyes met his, large and dark and filled with questions. They searched his face and he felt his cheeks start to burn with confusion and shame. He was suddenly all too aware of how close she was, her body warm and soft, her floral scent wafting over to him, making his pulse skip. The air seemed thicker, charged, like before a thunderstorm and with a mounting sense of panic he realised that he couldn't seem to get any air into his lungs.

            Shilpa was experiencing something similar. Now that his lips weren't touching her skin she was struck with alarm at the way she'd reacted to his kiss. She could still feel the potent desire burning deep within her, ready to leap up at any moment, and she knew with utter certainty that if he touched her again she would lose all control of herself. It frightened her in a way her sorrow never had. She'd been a slave to her grief these past fourteen years, but there was something familiar about it. She knew its depths, its darkness and in many ways she embraced it, even knowing it was slowly eating up her youth and energy.

            But the feelings Armaan had stirred in her with that brief touch of his lips to her temple were completely alien. No guy had ever aroused anything more than a mild interest in her till now, and she'd been fine with that. The thought of being infatuated with someone, of wanting to spend every moment with them, of needing them in her life, was worse than being forever alone and miserable. It was worse because it meant sharing herself with someone and after what had happened to her parents she couldn't allow herself to do that, couldn't allow herself to care about anyone. To care was to run the risk of losing them. To feel was to open the door to heartache. And she didn't think she could take any more.  

            "I..." they both said at once. Their eyes widened simultaneously and they both hurriedly looked away, overcome with embarrassment.

            "I, um, have some work that I need to do," Armaan stammered.

            "Yeah, I said I would call Sapna," Shilpa replied, sounding breathless.

            They both got to their feet without looking at one another.

            "So..." Armaan said, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets.

            "I guess I'll see you later," Shilpa said, starting to move off in the direction of her room.

            "Later. Yeah," Armaan replied. And then he too hurried off to his room.

 

Shilpa couldn't sleep. She lay on her back, watching the shadows shift across the ceiling, hoping it would distract her enough that she would just stop thinking. But her mind wouldn't budge from the one thought that had haunted her all night long: how she'd felt when Armaan kissed her scar. Like a broken record, the moments kept replaying in her mind and every time she recalled how his lips had felt next to her skin pleasure would spike inside of her, every bit as powerful as it had been the first time round.

            Closing her eyes didn't help; it only brought Armaan's face to her, those blue eyes burning with reverence as he told her he thought she was amazing. It frustrated her and had he not been across the hall she would have screamed it out. She didn't want to think about that kiss, if you could even call it that, didn't want to question why she'd reacted so strongly and what it meant. But her brain was determined that that was exactly what she was going to do.

            After a while she decided there was no point in staying in bed. If she closed her eyes she'd just end up tossing and turning again and she couldn't very well lie staring at the ceiling all night. Maybe a cup of herbal tea might calm her mind. As she sat up she wished fleetingly that she back in her bedroom at her aunt's house where there was a bottle of sleeping pills in the drawer of her bedside table.

            Grabbing her knee-length grey cardigan and throwing it over her pyjama t-shirt, she headed out into the hallway. She didn't bother with her crutches, her bad mood making her resent her dependence on them. Her ankle hurt but she stubbornly hobbled along, gritting her teeth so she didn't wince. Damn it, she thought irritably, I'm not weak!

            As she neared the living room she heard a faint strum of a guitar and she paused to listen, a slight frown wrinkling her forehead. She strained her ears but nothing broke the silence that had descended over the apartment like a shroud. Great, she thought, I'm imagining things now. Sighing and shaking her head, she went out into the living room.

            And then she heard it again, louder this time and coming from the balcony area. Stopping in the doorway her eyes swept over the room. It was all in darkness, the only light a faint glow through the glass of the balcony door. Curiosity piqued, she went closer. The light grew brighter and as she approached the door she finally saw the shape sitting in the balcony.

            Armaan. Her heart skipped as she came to a standstill near the balcony door. A halogen lamp sat on the ground over by the railing, casting a hazy, golden glow over him. It was enough to make out his face as he sat, perched on the edge of the deck chair, bent over a guitar. His brow was furrowed in deep concentration, his eyes fixed on his fingers as he strummed them over the strings of the guitar. He did it softly, like he wasn't sure what melody he was working on and every now and again he would pick up the drawing pad and write something down on it. She'd never seen him so absorbed in something and it surprised how it altered him. He looked younger, more relaxed, and even though he was frowning he looked happier than she could ever remember seeing him. There wasn't a trace of the tension that normal haunted his expression.

            Following her instincts, she slid open the balcony door and stepped out into the chill night air. Armaan's head snapped up, his body tensing automatically, as if she'd caught him doing something illicit. His fingers fell away from the strings and he shifted the instrument, like maybe he didn't want her to see it. His blue eyes, piercing in the dark, met hers and her heart instantly started to flutter.

            "Hey," he said softly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

            She shook her head quickly, swallowing down the rush of nerves. "No, no, you didn't. I couldn't sleep so I came to get something to drink."

            She didn't know if it was the dark or the way the lamp light fell on his face, but his eyes seemed more intense than usual and they were staring at her so intently it was making her nervous.

            "I'll, uh, I'll go back inside and leave you to it," she stammered, turning back to the door.

            "No, it's okay!" He rose to his feet, holding out a hand as if he might grab her arm. Her heart gave another silly little thud and she tried to compose her face into a neutral expression as she turned round to face him again. "Do you want to sit down?"

            He gestured to the other chair, his eyes imploring and hopeful. Shilpa hesitated, the sensible voice in the back of her mind telling her that it wasn't wise to be out here alone at night with him when she was already so confused. But the truth was he looked too adorable with his eyes all wide and a faint redness tingeing his cheeks, kind of like a bashful teenager, and she just couldn't find it within her to refuse him. Plus, she wanted to sit with him; there was no point in denying it. Conflicted thoughts aside, she enjoyed his company and the fresh air might help clear her mind for sleep.

            She went and sat on the chair next to him.

            Armaan sat back down and picked up the guitar again. He cradled it to him, glad he had a distraction for his shakier-than-normal fingers. Please don't let her notice, he prayed as he stroked them slowly over the strings.

            "You never told me you played guitar," Shilpa said, a smile hovering about her lips.

            "I haven't played for a while," he admitted, glancing up at her. She had leaned back in her chair, her head resting against the plastic slats, but turned in his direction. In the semi-darkness her green eyes were more luminous, glowing as steadily as a flame. Armaan tried not to think how their gaze had heat spreading through his skin.

            "My friends and I, we had a band in college," he explained. "It wasn't anything serious, just a few guys mucking about. We played a couple of college gigs, though, and the crowd seemed to like us."

            His lips had been curving upwards in a smile, but something flickered across his face and he pursed them tightly together. He bowed his head, hiding his expression from her.

            "I'd forgotten I even had this," he told her. "But I found it when I was rummaging in my room earlier. I couldn't sleep either so I thought I'd come out and try some chords."

            "I'm impressed," Shilpa said. "You draw, you play guitar. I'm in the presence of an artistic genius."

            Armaan gave her a sceptical look. "I'm not that talented. I just do it for fun." He strummed a chord, feeling it reverberate within him, like a heartbeat. "It helps center me. When I draw, when I play, I can disconnect my mind from everything. Whatever crap is stressing me out, I can forget all about it for a while."

            "That sounds like bliss," she sighed, shifting in her seat so she could look up at the sky. A few slate-grey clouds were drifting across the sky, but for the most part it was a clear, inky blackness stretching across the city like a blanket. The city lights cast an aura-like glow against it, but she could still make out a few stars here and there, twinkling faintly.

            "You want to play?" Armaan asked her, taking her by surprise. She glanced over at him, brows raised.

            "Me?"

            "Sure. Why not?"

            She felt her cheeks reddening, but whether through embarrassment or delight she couldn't be quite sure. "But...I've never played before," she admitted.

            Armaan grinned at her, a quick flash of his teeth, his dimples. "No problem. I'll teach you."

            Butterflies danced nervously through her stomach as he came over to her chair, the guitar in one hand. She eyed it dubiously as he told her to sit up straight. It looked big and bulky and she wasn't sure if it would fit on her knee.

            "Relax," he told her gently, seeing her shoulder tensing up. "It's really easy, trust me."

            "I'm not any good with music," she told him as he stood up and placed the guitar strap over her shoulder. "I couldn't even play the recorder at school."

            He chuckled, a soft but rich and warm sound that tickled the back of her neck as he settled the strap on her shoulder. A little shiver ran down her spine and she had to close her eyes briefly.

            "I have a feeling you'll be good at this," he said, moving round in front of her so he could position the guitar on her knees. "Hold it like this."

            He reached out and took her right hand, placing it so her wrist rested on the ribs of the guitar. She tried not to think about how warm his touch was or how her heart gave a little skip as he positioned the fingers of her left hand on the strings. They were wiry and dug into her skin, leaving red trench marks, but she barely noticed, too preoccupied with how close he was leaning into her as he explained all about chords. Every now and then she could feel his breath fanning against the back of her hand, causing a tingle to run down her arm. It made it hard to concentrate on what he was saying and she had to bite the inside of her lip to focus.

            "So, this," he said, moving around behind her so that he was bending down by her shoulder, "is chord C."

            From behind he reached out and placed her fingers in the position for the chord and then, taking her right hand, he curled her fingers into her palm and then guided her thumb over the strings. The chord sounded with a deep thrum that seemed to reverberate inside her, matching her heartbeat and she gave a small gasp of amazement.

            "It's cool, right?" Armaan said, turning his face to hers. That put his lips less than an inch from her temple and she felt her pulse skitter at the memory of how he'd kissed her scar earlier.

            "Yeah," she replied a little breathlessly.

            His lips curved in a half smile that made his eyes sparkle in the darkness. With the lamp light at his back they seemed a deeper shade of sapphire, reminding her of the ocean. She forced herself to look away from them before she drowned in them.

            "Okay, let's go over the other chords and then I'll give you a really simple tune to try," he said, sounding so normal it made her want to cry. Or kick herself for being stupid enough to get affected by his proximity.

            Concentrate Shilpa, she scolded herself as he started to explain D chord to her.

            They went over all the chords and gradually she found herself getting engrossed in it. Oh, she was still acutely conscious of Armaan leaning over her shoulder and of his warm touch as he moved her hands, but she soon started to feel a little thrill with each chord she played. There was something empowering about the thrum of the strings under her thumb and when it echoed inside her like that she could suddenly understand why musicians often spoke of feeling a connection to their music. Certainly as she played she felt as if the notes were more than just the sound of the strings being plucked; they seemed to live in the air around her, and they were a part of her too. It was the most magical experience she'd ever had and she realised with a small start that she was enjoying herself.

            "That's good," Armaan said after he'd gotten her to run through the chords again. He smiled at her, exposing his dimples. "You'll be a pro in no time."

            "Only because I have such a good teacher," she replied, a note of teasing in her voice.

            A smile of her own played across her lips and she turned her head so she could look up at him. She had almost forgotten how close he was and when she found her lips no more than an inch from his her heart thudded heavily in her chest.

            Their eyes met in the dark and once again she was struck by how sparkling his were. They were filled with amusement but as he continued to gaze down at her they deepened, something richer filling them up. She was highly aware of his hand resting lightly on her lower arm and the thought of how it would feel if he were to glide his fingers up her arm made her shiver in anticipation.

            He saw her eyes darken, the pupils dilating slightly, turning them almost as dark as the night surrounding them. Some of her hair had fallen over his left arm and the silky strands were bringing goose bumps out all the way down his arm. His eyes flicked down to her lips, which were slightly parted and looking fuller than he remembered. They seemed redder, too, out there in the dark, and his heart started to race as he imagined how soft they might feel pressed to his. He swallowed, the urge to lean down and capture them growing inside him, becoming impossible to ignore.

            Something icy and wet landed on his arm, snapping him back to the real world. Shilpa jerked too and he saw her glance upwards. She drew in a sharp breath and he followed her gaze in time to see snowflakes floating down from the puffy silver clouds that had taken over the sky. There was only one or two at first, small, white dots that settled silently around them. But then they started to thicken and in a matter of seconds they were engulfed in a curtain of snowflakes.

            Shilpa gave a little half-laugh, half-shriek and then Armaan leaned over and caught her up in his arms and carried her inside. Both of them were laughing and Shilpa still clutched his guitar, which kept bumping against his chest as he hurried back into the apartment and slid the balcony door closed.

            "Oh my God!" Shilpa giggled. "We're covered in snow!"

            "It's in your hair," Armaan told her, as he plucked the guitar from her grasp and laid it down on the couch. "It looks like dandruff."

            "Say that again and I'll hit you," she threatened. She tried to scowl severely at him but she ended up snickering and that ruined the effect.

            "Such a drama queen," Armaan tutted, heaving a theatrical sigh.

            He slowly put her down on her feet, careful not to jar her ankle. She winced as it touched the floor and gripped his shoulders to steady herself, her head falling forward so that her hair brushed against his jaw. His heart thumped hard against his rib cage, knocking the breath out his lungs for a moment, so that all he could do was stare down at the top of her head, feeling her breath blast against his neck as she sucked it in painfully. The sensible part of his mind informed him that he no right to find that sound sexy, but his body apparently had other ideas.

            "Damn this stupid ankle!" she cursed, hobbling back and resting a hand on the back of the couch for support.

            "Are you okay?" he asked her in an effort to distract himself from the heat that had started to spread through him.

            "I'm fine." She glanced up at him and her eyes widened, amusement darting through them. A hand flew to her mouth as she choked back a laugh.

            "What?" he asked, frowning.

            "There's snowflakes sticking to your eyebrows," she giggled.

            Armaan cursed under his breath and started rubbing furiously at them, which only made her giggling fit worse. She wrapped her arms about herself, clamping her lips shut, but little snorts of amusement got out anyway.

            He threw her a disgruntled look. "I don't know why you're laughing. Your hair is practically white."

            She ran her fingers through it, dislodging some of the flakes, but not them all. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she said, not managing to disguise her grin. "You just looked so funny. Is it all gone?"

            He finished shaking the snow out his own hair and glanced over at her. A couple of white flakes glistened in her ebony mane, looking for all the world like diamond hairclips. Without thinking he stepped closer and brushed them away with his fingers.

            "There," he said huskily, his eyes following the movement of his fingers through her midnight tresses. Shilpa's pulse quickened at the intensity of his gaze.

            "Thanks," she said softly.

            "Any time."

            His eyes met hers and they were smouldering. The weight of their gaze sent a rush of heat through her cheeks and she felt oddly light-headed for a second. He'd dropped his hand from her hair but he was still standing right in front of her and she knew all she had to do was take one step forward and then she'd be in the circle of his arms. Temptation flickered through her mind like a devious whisper and for one moment she very nearly gave in. But somehow she found the strength to tear her eyes from his and take a step back.

            "Well, I think I'll go back to bed now," she said, conscious of the unnaturally high pitch to her voice. "I'm feeling much sleepier now. The guitar lesson must have tired me out."

            She laughed nervously, cringing inwardly at how moronic she sounded. Armaan didn't seem to notice, though. He'd also stepped back and he was busy running a hand over his hair, his eyes fixed on the carpet like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

            "Yeah," he agreed, sounding a little odd. "I think I'll turn in too." He shook his head and then he glanced up at her. "Come on, you can lean on me."

            "No, it's okay," she protested as he slid his hand into hers. "I can manage."

            "Your ankle isn't healed yet," he reminded her. "You don't want to damage it any further. Now come on, let me be a gentleman for a few minutes."

            He winked at her and it stole her breath away. There was no denying him after that, so with an exaggerated role of her eyes, she nodded and let him escort her through into the hall to her room. They stopped outside her door and as she turned to face him her stomach started to churn nervously. She smiled up at him, knowing that her cheeks were steadily turning red and feeling like a teenager being dropped off home by her crush.

            "So," she said, her mind going blank on her.

            "So," he echoed, feeling every bit as foolish as she did. His heart was doing a weird fluttery thing in his chest, which he refused to acknowledge as a sign of nerves. There was absolutely nothing to be nervous about, after all.

            "Thanks for the guitar lesson," she said, a genuine smile breaking across her lips. "I really enjoyed it."

            "You were really getting the hang of it," he told her, trying not to notice the way her smile brought out the lighter tones in her eyes. "With a little more practice you could be really good."

            "Now you're just being nice to me," she said with a wry arch of her brows.

            "No, I mean it," he insisted. "Tomorrow I'll teach you that song, okay?"

            She didn't answer right away, too busy studying his face in amazement. No one had ever offered to do anything for her before so it was a little difficult for her to wrap her mind around the fact he wanted to teach her. She searched his eyes, trying to see some glint that might suggest he was pulling her leg, but all she saw was earnestness and hope. Delight danced through her, a wonderful, dizzying sensation that she didn't think she would ever get used to.

            "Okay," she replied, nodding her agreement. Her lips curved upwards in another smile and then she turned to her door. She'd just pushed down on the handle, opening it, when he stopped her.

            "Shilpa?"

            The questioning note in his voice was so unusual that she turned fully back to face him instead of just glancing over her shoulder at him. His eyes were large and impossibly round, glowing with an almost preternatural luminous.

            "Yes?" she arched her brows at him, bemused by the bashful expression on his face.

            He didn't say anything. Instead he bent down and kissed her cheek. It was a brief press of his lips to her skin, but it was enough to have her heart leaping to her throat and to bring goose bumps out all over her body. He pulled back slightly, so that his lips hovered by her jaw, and those glowing sapphire eyes met hers.

            "Goodnight," he said softly.

            "Goodnight," she whispered back.

            A smile flickered across his lips, flashing his dimples yet again, as he backed away to his own room. His eyes never left hers and she watched him go, heart thundering, head spinning. But despite it all she felt her own lips tugging upwards and as he reached his room door she was smiling shyly back at him, a deep crimson blush infusing her cheeks.

            They stepped inside their rooms at the same instant and as they closed the doors behind them they were both grinning like idiots.


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teenorchid IF-Sizzlerz
teenorchid
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Posted: 05 March 2012 at 3:02pm | IP Logged
wah jee. Ths one my favrte so far. Lvd their interaction. And their guitar lesson<3<3

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DulceAmor

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Posted: 05 March 2012 at 3:09pm | IP Logged
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kashmayurfan Senior Member
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Posts: 562

Posted: 05 March 2012 at 3:24pm | IP Logged
It was such a cute update :) arsh were too shweet!The begining of the part was really good! The way she was soothing him was adorable! The 1st kiss in the part was soo passionate! You Amazingly described every bit of it to perfection! I could feel each and every emotion going trought them! The guitar lesson scene was beautiful!they are soo much in love<33 and the snoww scene was the best! When they were laughing on each other because of the snow flakes on shilpuu's hair and armaan's brows it was such a cute and funny scene! They really looked happy! And the last scene was perfect! The kiss on the cheek! I can sooo imagine it right now lol!Can't wait to read more! Do cont.soon

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DulceAmor

Sar_M Groupbie
Sar_M
Sar_M

Joined: 02 July 2010
Posts: 142

Posted: 05 March 2012 at 5:48pm | IP Logged
That was just sooo sweet...I am amazed at how you explain each of their emotions so brilliantly =D
Great part!! will be waiting for the next update...

Thanks for the PM

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DulceAmor

flowers4u IF-Sizzlerz
flowers4u
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Joined: 03 November 2008
Posts: 13010

Posted: 05 March 2012 at 6:33pm | IP Logged
Absolutely wounderfull i just love those two idiots lol keep writting n making me smile a few scenes were just so hert warming my face kept breaking into a smile bet i looked like an idiot too continue soon

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DulceAmor

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

Posted: 05 March 2012 at 8:32pm | IP Logged
wow i had a smile while reading th part
it was absolutely enchanting!
loved it n enjoyed it
continue super soon

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