ArHi SS: Swayamvar | COMPLETE | 31/7 - Page 4

I squint as the harsh rays of the sun hit my eyes, wincing as I roll over in bed. My head throbs, and I groan, recognizing the signs of a hellish hangover.

I bury my face into the pillow, attempting to block the light from shining in my eyes. The musky, masculine scent hits me straight in the nose, and I inhale deeply, savoring it.

The bed is soft. Too soft. It feels much nicer than the 300 thread count bed sheets I have at home that are from my college days, frayed slightly at the edges.

I inhale again, and my head spins with the scent.

"Having fun smelling my pillow?"

I bolt straight up in bed, recognizing the deep, husky voice.

Oh, hell no.

I turn a single, half open eye to the door only to see a shirtless Arnav leaning casually against the doorframe, holding a clear glass of water and a couple of small, white pills in his hand.

I glance down at my body, desperately hoping that it is covered, and find that I am wearing a different shirt than the one I wore last night.

It's a worn t-shirt that smells like the pillow, gray and soft. It rests on my bare thighs, and I look up at him to see a smirk on his face.

I desperately search my brain for a memory of something, anything that happened between us last night. I remember arguing with my parents, going to the club, and getting drunk. I remember dancing on the floor and stumbling into-

Oh no.

Did we?

I can't remember anything past when I passed out, not one single bit.

He seems to be waiting for my question, and I can't help but curse myself for allowing him to gain the upper hand in this situation. I know he wants me to ask, and my pride insists that I cannot give him that satisfaction.

But I have to know.

"Did, er, something, um, happen?"

He cocks his head, and I know he's about to make my life difficult. I mentally groan, pressing at my throbbing forehead with my fingers.

It is too early in the morning for his games.

"Something? I'm afraid that's too vague."

"Shut up, Arnav. I have a hangover. Knock it off."

"Do you think something happened?"

"I don't know, or I wouldn't be asking."

"Well, I'm afraid I can't help you unless you're more specific."

"Did we... You know..."

"Know...?"

"You know..."

"I know lots of things. I went to Harvard, after all."

"Are you always this arrogant, or is today a special day?"

"Not a special day, a special girl."

He winks at me, and I grind my teeth in frustration.

"Arnav, did we do it?"

"What's "it"?"

"It!"

"I'm afraid I-"

"Did we have sex?"

He pauses for a long moment, a contemplative look in his eyes. He makes me uncomfortable when he states at me like that, with something odd in his eyes. Like he's mentally picturing how I would look in just my panties.

In the embarrassing, this is how I calm myself down when I'm nervous type of way.

"No. We didn't have sex."

"Then why am I wearing your clothes?"

"Because you threw up all over yours."

Mortification spreads through me, and I turn a bright red. I cannot believe I threw up all over my own clothes, and of all of the people in the world that could have found me, Arnav was the one.

"No need to be embarrassed, we all do it at some point."

"I am not embarrassed."

He raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow, and I stare back at him defiantly, ignoring the rush of blood up to my cheeks. His eyes drop down to my bare legs, and I suddenly feel the need to pull the exceedingly soft covers all the way up to my chin.

"I never expected you to get passed out drunk, Chashmish."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Arnav Singh Raizada."

He smiles slightly, and I momentarily register how attractive he is when he smiles.

And then promptly push that thought away.

An awkward silence descends upon us, and I rub the soft sheets between my fingers, attempting to come up with conversation to diffuse the tension.

"You're not going to ask why I got drunk?"

He silently appraises me, before quietly sighing. His seemingly knowing gaze makes me uncomfortable, and I fight the urge to bolt out of the room.

"No. If you wanted to, you would tell me."

He floors me with his considerate attitude, and for a minute, I'm stunned into silence. I find myself at a loss for words, uncertain of how to deal with an Arnav that's very different from the one I once knew.

He walks over to me, and I scooch away as he comes closer and closer. I'm back up against the headboard when he leans in, his breath fanning over my face as he lifts his hand, pressing the pills into my palm.

"Take these."

I wrinkle up my nose at the sight of the pills in my palm, my head still spinning from his proximity. He hasn't moved away, and I shift further against the headboard.

The idea of putting pills down my throbbing throat does not please me at all, even if I know it will relieve my headache to an extent. I glance up at him, unwilling to take the medicine in my hands, and I attempt to put a pleading expression on my face in an attempt to convince him otherwise.

His face is close, too close.

The look in his eyes makes my entire body burn with an emotion I can only identify as desire, and I can feel the blood rapidly rushing everywhere in my body. The pounding sensation increases under his heavy, scorching gaze leaving me breathless and gasping as I swallow thickly.

His eyes are dark pools of caramel brown that send the heat rushing to my face. He traces my face slowly with them, stopping at my tingling lips as they part unconsciously, my mouth going dry.

His eyes drop momentarily to the open, top button of his thin, white shirt that's draped over me. When he lifts his eyes back to mine, they're clouded over and swirling with passion. My skin prickles, and the white shirt suddenly feels too thin and revealing as I become distinctly aware of his hand on my bare knee, rubbing in small circles.

His lips come impossibly close to mine as he comes even closer, invading all of my private bubble with his intoxicating scent. His stubble is almost brushing against my skin, and I shiver in anticipation as my eyes barely flutter shut.

"Khushi... Take the damn pills."

The sound of my name on his lips startles me, and my eyes fly open and look directly into his heated gaze. I see him freeze, his fingers stilling on my knee.

He takes a large step back, and I feel goosebumps erupt over my skin at the immediate loss of heat. I have to withhold my cry of displeasure as the cool air washes over me, chilling me to the bone. I tug at the bottom of my shirt uncertainly, pointedly avoiding his gaze.

He looks away from me as he holds out the glass of water, and I take it silently from his hands as I down the pills. I can tell he's unsettled when he practically snatches the empty glass out of my fingers and walks out of the room, his stance stiff and his strides long.

The aftertaste of the pills leave a bitter feeling on the tip of my tongue, but I have the uncomfortable feeling that it doesn't only have to do with the medicine.

-***-

He silently pulls up to the block just past the studio, and the car is thick with tension. I push my glasses up my nose in a reflex motion, my eyes staring at my reflection in the shining window.

"Get out."

His sharp voice jolts me out of my thoughts, and I turn a pointed gaze to him at his harsh tone. He's staring straight out of the window, his eyes facing forward and his face stony.

"I'm sorry?"

He sighs and turns to me, his face softening slightly as he takes in my affronted expression.

"That came out harsher than I intended. I- I apologize. If we walk in together, there will be... Questions."

I realize what he's saying and nod in understanding, sliding out of the plush car without a second thought. I turn to leave when I pause, turning back to him for a minute.

"Thank you. I... I owe you one."

The beginnings of a wicked smirk curves his lips, and a wicked glint enters his eyes as he revs up the car.

"I'll hold you to it."

With a cocky wink thrown over his shoulder, he roars off back towards to the studio, leaving me mentally cursing myself for my poor choice of words.

Damn him.

-***-

"And, action!"

Arnav reaches across the table and lays his hand atop Manorama's, a gentle, encouraging smile on his face. She blushes prettily as he talks to her, somehow managing to make the very scripted date look conversational and natural.

"I'm very happy that I have the chance to get to know you today."

She turns her head away with a dramatic bashfulness, pulling her hand away like a terrible version of an old Hindi heroine.

"I too love you very much, Arnav! You are my-"

"Cut! That is not your line, Manu!"

"It is too! This is reality show. I should show my true feelings!"

"Manu, that is not the- where are you going?!"

I rub my forehead as I hit the stop button again, my hands itching to toss something at Manorama as she stops the shoot for the fifth time within the last ten minutes.

"Touch up! I need to touch up my makeup! My lipstick must be purrrfect for Arnav."

She bustles over to her makeup station, which she has decorated with glaring, brightly colored letters that spell "MANU", complete with the cheesy Broadway string lights.

She pulls out the bright red lipstick from her purse and applies it generously to her puckered lips, blowing kisses at herself in the mirror as she does so. She fluffs the large fake bun at the nape of her neck, before she strikes a pose in the mirror.

"NK darrrling, how do I look?"

I see him smile through gritted teeth, tightly nodding his approval as she walks back over to Arnav, placing a hand decked in red nail polish matching her lipstick on his upper arm.

He barely restrains a wince as she blows a dramatic kiss up at him, before leaning up to murmur something in his ear. His eyes widen in shock and his mouth drops open in horror, but Manorama seems to take it as a compliment and shifts closer.

"And take thirty-"

"NK! Did you fix the lighting I told you to?"

NK swears loudly as Shyam turns towards him, his sassy drawl ringing through the room.

"Don't you give me that word! I need to look perfect for this. I am the host, aren't I? Also, are you sure you don't want me to stand closer to Arnav?"

He throws Arnav a wink before narrowing his eyes at Manorama, who remains blissfully oblivious to the drama going on around her, instead primping in the distant mirror pushed against the wall.

"Shyam, shut the f**k up. We're doing this one, last time and I don't want to hear any arguments."

I hit the record button, but am interrupted by a loud, brash protest.

"Why was she given the first solo date? Arnav clearly doesn't even like her!"

Rajjo's voice comes through loud and clear from the corner where she sits with all the other girls, her hands on her hips angrily as her muscled arms bulge. The other girls move uncomfortably in their seats, not wanting to be associated with her.

"Excuse me? Arnav loves me very much! I even picked his favorite strawberry red lipstick- he loves strawberries!"

"Ha! Strawberry lipstick? And that fake bun, does he love fake buns too?"

"Ooh, you did not just-"

"Oh, but I did!"

Manorama lunges at Rajjo, and within minutes, there are two bulky security guards pulling the two of them apart. A giant ball of fake hair lies on the ground as they growl at each other, screaming obscenities as Arnav stands between them, their hands holding on to his hands, each one tugging him towards herself.

Arnav sends me a pleading glance over the heads of the feuding girls, begging me to do something. I send him a saucy wink and smile, leaning back in my chair to watch the show.

If only I had masala popcorn to go with it.

-***-

The guards finally pull the two girls away from each other, and NK calls for a break as he goes outside to take a drag of a cigarette. He's clearly frustrated with the way the show is going, because he quit smoking nearly two years ago.

I'm in the middle of putting the tripod away in the dark dressing room when a hand grabs my wrist and whips me against the wall, a hard body pressing me up against the flimsy barrier. I open my mouth to scream when a large hand presses up against my mouth, effectively silencing me.

"Don't even think about it, Ms. Gupta."

My eyes adjust to see the uncomfortably familiar caramel eyes of my savior from last night, also known as the devil himself. I struggle against his tight grip, but he only presses me further into the wall with his body, his lower half pressing up against mine.

My eyes fly open at the sudden contact, and he immediately realizes and jerks away from me. I feel my face heat up and I turn away in embarrassment, unsettled by his reaction to my presence.

"What the hell was that for, Arnav?"

He recovers quickly, flashing caramel eyes penetrating mine in the darkness.

"You ignored my call for help."

"I did nothing of the sort. It is not in my job description to play mediator to your fangirls."

"You owe me one, you know."

"That's what you want me to do with that?"

The minute the words slip out of my mouth, I regret them. I catch the wicked glint in his eyes as he steps forward, backing me up against that same wall.

His hands plant themselves on either side of my head, effectively trapping me with his heated gaze.

"Why, Chashmish? What did you think I would ask for?"

His voice drops at least an octave, the smooth tone soaking over me like thick, gooey chocolate. My eyes flutter closed, and I struggle to control my breathing as he leans closer. His lips barely graze the tip of my nose and I inhale deeply, smelling... Strawberries?

"Arnav, do you wear strawberry Chapstick?"

His hands slip in shock, and I take the opportunity to slide out from his grasp, giggles overflowing from my mouth.

"Oh my god. You wear strawberry Chapstick! Manorama was right!"

"Shut up, Chashmish! It's tinted and I-"

He seems to realize his mistake, and I double over in laughter once more. He advances towards me, a glare on his face as I find myself cornered by him for a third time, my laughter continuing as he grinds his teeth in anger.

The laugher dies on my lips when my eyes accidentally meet his, and I'm immediately held captive by his gaze. The strawberry scent grows stronger as his lips barely brush mine, a tantalizing, forbidden touch.

"Arnav?"

I shove him off of me just as the lights go on, nervously adjusting my hair as NK walks in.

Arnav walks out with NK, chatting animatedly with him. I play with the handle of my duffel bag, purposefully avoiding their gaze.

I look up just as he turns around to glance at me, his eyes unreadable as he swiftly turns back around.

My tongue unwittingly swipes against my lips, and I can taste the faint strawberry lingering behind.

Damn him.