ArHi FF: The Synchrony Of Being Chapter 4, Page 13 - Page 2

super duper.. loved the way u have constructed the story. do continue and update ASAP... add me in.

Great start.love your style and hold on the language. Waiting for the rest of the story. 😊

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Chapter 2- With Silence As My Shield

Arnav was startled as he saw her move towards him wordlessly and a strange thought crossed his mind until he realized that she had stepped pass him to pick up her ghunghroo. He moved away from her as her perfume invaded the air around him. She picked them up and folded them neatly in her thin fingered hands. Then she extended them to him with a small smile.

"Did you want to have a look at them?" she asked in a low voice. He realized that since their wedding he had not heard her speak as much as she used to earlier.

"No, not really. I was just surprised you left them here, like this. You never usually do that'" he trailed off trying not to sound accusatory. She withdrew her arm and turned around to replace them in her cupboard, answering him now.

"I don't. Nani called me suddenly and I left them here in a hurry."

He nodded and walked away to his garden, standing by the pool. It had almost felt that he was invading her personal space somehow, no matter how familiar it seemed.

She took a deep breath and sat down on the bed. As per his habit, he would spend at least an hour with his plants, tending to them. She had often watched him while he watered them and noticed the contentment on his usually hard face. He had a reputation of being extremely short tempered and impatient and that had scared her to no extent when she was told that he was going to be her husband. Yet, it had been the least of her worries given the scenario. She was neither asked for her consent, nor did she give it. Dressed in a lehenga purchased within half an hour of her marriage being fixed, she had just followed around the elders. She could not even remember how the evening had passed, which was a surprise as she had a very sharp memory. She was given a reluctant welcome and was suddenly wife of one of the leading businessmen of the country. She had got the first taste of the haunting media fire upon her arrival in the city. Right outside the airport, there were flashes and mikes thrown at her as she struggled to walk with her heavy sari on. Frozen as the sudden light pierced her eyes, she had stopped walking and stood rooted to the spot, allowing the frenzied reporters to suffocate her. She felt her Sari being tugged and a mike hit her jaw hard as if the reporter would get a better response from bruising her.

He and his family had walked ahead without looking back, used to the rash behavior. She wanted to call them out for help but she could not hear her own voice in the cacophony of the rapid questions thrown at her. He was walking away, unaware of the ordeal and she felt like screaming. Then, as if he heard her, he turned around and saw her trapped in the mesh of wild, flinging bodies. Through his sunglasses, she could not see his eyes but his lips tightened and he maneuvered towards her, almost plunging into the crowd. Within seconds, he was at her side. He draped one arm around her shoulders, steering her away from the reporters as if he knew her feet wouldn't move on their own. The contact of his hard palm with her soft, frail skin jerked her alive and she walked faster to match his pace. Once inside the car, he released her and she slumped on the seat, not knowing how to react.

Of the whole episode the moment when he had touched her stood out vividly. She could clearly recall the strange burst of energy that had originated from that point, spreading to her tips and toes. She had not given it much thought at that point of time but it kept coming back to her every time she was in his presence. Being in the same room, it was quite hard to avoid complete physical contact and given how clumsy she was, she kept bumping into him. She wondered if it was normal to react that way to a man's touch. She had denied all rights to physical intimacy to her fianc, maintaining her dignity like she was expected to. But how could she do that to her husband, even though he never exercised it?

She shook her head to clear it of the confusion and directed her thoughts towards her dance classes. It was perhaps the only thing she looked forward to, releasing all her pent up energy and emotions. Strangely, it brought tears in eyes and she started practicing in the house to avoid emotional outbursts in the class.

She leaned back against the headboard and adjusted the cushions. She could see him, separated from him by a glass wall, examining one of his plants carefully. He had seen him giving extra attention to this one, the one placed right next to his chair. She tilted her head to get a better view of his expression. His brow was furrowed and he was biting his lip. She closed her eyes in guilt; she had probably wrecked his life. It was frustrating, to be thrust upon a stranger as a responsibility. She could not even come to terms with her break up and her father's demise. How would she carry on their relationship with this man who was so starved of love when she did not have anything to offer?

Note: Am extremely thankful to all those people who commented here. This is the best response I have ever received, way beyond my imagination. I might not be able to acknowledge every comment separately, but trust me, am grateful to each one of you.

enjoyed reading it...and waiting for update