KriYaansh OS - Edge of Desire
The storm brewing inside her quietens to a dull throb and she finds herself finally surrendering. Letting the darkness consume her. It is after all in the shadows that she always finds him.
--
He struggles to control his breathing. His skin threatens to melt off - so fierce is the fight inside him. His blood is roaring and his heart drums in his chest, threatening to burst out. How he wishes it did. Lord knows he's tried to rip it out himself enough times. He's sure he's still got scratch marks from the last time he tried. That is also one of the reasons he always keeps his nails short and shirt on - but no knows that.
It wasn't always like that. Of course it wasn't. It never is. Nothing ever is nor remains the way it starts.
--
He'd been looking for work. Anything to get by. It had taken him only five days of sleeping on an empty stomach in the City of Dreams to finally admit that passion may keep the heart pumping but it didn't keep hunger at bay.
It takes him another four to realise qualifications got you through the door, but you needed to know the right names to stay.
It only takes him fifteen minutes and a heated argument with a high society brat at 2am to realise that just like dreams, the city too is highly unpredictable and just as surreal.
--
It takes everything in his power to not storm out of the Ghai Mansion.
Mr. Ghai's condescending words, Mrs. Ghai's disapproving stare and that brat's challenging stance grate on his nerves. He was better than this - better than them. People so blinded by money and power they couldn't differentiate between people and pawns.
When he walks out half an hour later, his head's held high. But even as he clutches his fingers around his appointment letter as the new head of security he can't fight off the feeling that his hunger finally won over his pride.
--
She leans into his shoulder and he bristles. He tells himself he feels that way because he can read people better than her.
He knows guys like Romeo very well, knows they're bad news, knows he's just using her for who she is. But he doesn't warn her.
When she lifts her head up from his shoulder and looks him square in the eye from across the hall, he realises he's isn't as stoic as he thought. When her lips curl up in a taunting smile, he knows she'd called him out on his bluff.
He isn't sure how he feels about that.
--
The fairy lights are twinkling and the night is alive with the sounds of clinking glasses, fake laughter and shallow conversations.
The party is in full swing as he comes to a halt behind the marble pillars and surveys the crowd once again. He looks on with disinterest at women wearing precious gems that shined brighter than their eyes. At least two of them had tried to feel him up as he had made his way across the lawn. The men on the other hand volleyed between discussing mergers, mistresses and malts. He feels suffocated and wonders how they thrive in an environment like this - how she survives.
His senses are tingling and he can't fight the feeling that something is about to go very very wrong. Shaking his head consciously - no time for stupid thoughts, he made his way towards the back. It was time for another round anyway.
--
She bangs into him the minute he turns the corner. For a second, he's caught off guard and his hands immediately hold onto the body thrust into him. He looks down to see her tear stained eyes staring up at him, shocked. She didn't expect to see him here and he didn't expect to ever see her like this - with mascara running down her face, her hair unruly, and - he notices as he sweeps a gaze down her frame to make sure she is okay - bruises on her arm in the shape of a hand.
He looks up alarmed just in time to see Romeo break into a run. He moves her aside. Adrenaline rushing through her body, every instinct screaming inside him to run, to fight, to not loose sight. He's gearing up to go, even makes it past her and to the curb before she is pulling his hand. If he wasn't so wired already, he would have jumped with a start.
Instead he's about to brush her off even as she comes running into him, wrapping her arms around him. And just like that, he feels the fight, the anger, the tension draining out of him. He turns and engulfs her into his arms.
--
He wakes up with a jerk, sweat pouring down his body, his breathing out of control like he has been running a marathon. Her phantom taste still lingers in his mouth and his lips burn with the memory of her tongue, ache with the pull of her teeth.
He sits absolutely still in the middle of the bed, shrouded in darkness. Thankful for the shadows. It allows him to deny what he desired in the dark, what he couldn't imagine even looking at in the morning.
They said some women were like wild horses, not meant to be tamed, or tied down. He knew they were right because of her. The only one he couldn't have.
The one he couldn't even admit wanting.
--
She orders him to accompany her to Simmi's house party. Tells him she needs his guarding' with a sneer. He feels a hot flush of anger run through his body. He curtly tells her he's in charge of overseeing the changing of the night guards.
She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly and walks away.
He gets a strong feeling he was being baited and though he had refused, he couldn't stop feeling like he'd lost anyway.
--
Kria Ghai always got what she wanted. As he made his way through the overcrowded, dark hall; Reyaansh Singhania had to give her that. No matter how bitter it made him feel.
He wasn't stupid. He knows exactly why he was offered this job and it wasn't on his merit. It was because he had dared to question Miss Kria Ghai, daughter of steel tycoon Yashwardhan Ghai.
She'd gotten him hired to teach him a lesson. And he had acknowledged her challenge and taken it head-on. He knew she would turn each day into a battle for survival, make him regret even laying eyes on her much less actually daring to defeat her while he was at it. He'd come prepared when he'd accepted.
However, he had never expected the thrill of anticipating to turn into a thrum of excitement, for trepidation to turn into temptation, for loathing to turn into longing. And he had definitely not been prepared for his own heart to turn against him.
While he'd hated Kria Ghai, she'd wanted to turn his life into a living hell. It was almost poetic ironic how she had managed just that by not only getting under his skin but making herself at home there.
--
He doesn't have to look too long and hard for her. She's wearing florescent pink and black. Soft and harsh - a contradiction just like her . She's covered from head to toe and he's grateful for that. He would have questioned his curious reaction had he not suddenly felt an unexpected wave of anger on seeing her dancing on the countertop.
She had known he would come all along. He realises this the instant he sees the victorious smile beaming on her face, the minute she spots him standing near the door. She bends down, pulls the guy nearest to her by the collar and gulps down his drink in one go.
Then, she continues to dance - clearly drunk, clearly overcompensating, clearly putting on a show - just for him. But he doesn't stop her. Because that is exactly what she wants. For him to reach out, to give in. To admit what he wants to ignore. It's a game they're both playing to win.
When she's had too much, tried too long, when she's about to come crashing down - he is there to catch her, like always.
--
He lifts her up in his arms and walks out of the house.
He ignores her car and continues on. The night is dark and deserted and he allows himself the luxury of holding her close. He could easily deny it in the morning tomorrow. She's fainted as it is.
This point wouldn't count anyway.
--
On his way to the mansion with her safe in his arms, he crosses a red road sign screaming 'STOP'. He sees it's for the universe's command that it is. Ignoring it, he continues on.
He doesn't think his wild heart is willing to listen tonight.
--
Cricket
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