Khushi stood under the spray of warm water in the second bathroom as she gathered her thoughts. She touched her cheek. It still felt hot, as if he'd branded her with his kiss.
What's happening between us?
They hadn't talked, hadn't breathed a word about Shyam or their wedding, or the months of lies and anger. But Arnav-ji had asked her to stay with him and it was enough for now. She stepped out and shimmied into loose jeans and a long tunic dress, the closest approximation to a salwaar suit she'd been able to find when shopping for the trip with Di. Khushi clipped her hair out of the way and applied some light makeup before reaching for her sindoor*. Her hand trembled as she used the applicator to draw a line of red through the part of her hair, thinking of the man who'd put it there in the first place.
Why did you think he'd talk to you, Khushi? All you did was hurt him again.
She shouldn't have mentioned his mother. Arnav-ji didn't talk to anyone about her, not even his own sister.
But then ... why did he kiss me if he was angry?
Maybe they weren't beyond saving after all. Maybe it wasn't too late, and he could still trust her. Maybe they could start again. She decided to make the best of the time she had with him. She'd come to see him, after all, and he wanted her to stay.
Khushi was trying to figure out the kettle in the kitchenette when Arnav-ji came out of his bedroom, dressed casually in dark jeans, a shirt, and a sweater. Her favourite sweater, she noticed, the black one, and one of her favourite grey shirts. He stopped at the door to look at her, his eyes sweeping along the length of her body, and she felt his gaze like a physical touch, tracing fire where it roamed. He approached slowly, his eyes locked on hers, and his every step caused her pulse to stutter and scattered her thoughts.
"We're going to buy you more clothes like these," his voice, low and rough, sent shivers down her spine.
When he was close enough, Arnav-ji reached behind and slid the clip from her hair, watching as it cascaded down her back. Khushi shivered as he ran his fingers through it, recalling their clandestine meeting after Jiji's Sangeet.
"Now it's okay," he smiled, and she realised he was also thinking of that moment, "Are you ready?"
Arnav-ji took her hand as she nodded and led her into the elevator. It'd seemed huge when she'd ridden in it last night but now it felt too small with her husband gripping her waist possessively and his eyes holding hers in the reflection in front of them. He winked at her, and smiled as she blushed.
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*vermilion; marks a Hindu woman as being married.
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Forgive Her Anything (IPKKND AU) #Wattys2016
Fanfiction(IPKKND AU) In love with his brother-in-law's mistress, Arnav Singh Raizada is torn between his duties as a brother and his feelings for a woman who could destroy everything he loves. After giving his wife a final chance to explain herself at the ai...
