2 | ArHi SS: Do Deewane | COMPLETE | Last Chapter | Page 21 | (4/10) | - Page 12

Originally posted by: ...ASB100...

I hope neither of them do anything stupid. Nahi toh...

Originally posted by: ...ASB100...

They just did it. Khushi thinks this is the end of the fuzzy socks feelings. Arnav doesn't think so, because he finds Khushi's perceptions about sex and who should come first funny.

They are packing...so this either Khushi thinks putting distance between them will mean no more fuzzy socks...

OR

...they're going to look for a barn so they can do IT on hay. Like they do on desi TV.

Chapter Eleven

Khushi stretched slowly, wincing as the soreness in her muscles settled in. She snuggled her head further into her warm pillow, shifting backwards and sighing at the feeling of warm skin pressed against hers.

She shifted further back, curling up against the body cacooning her. It was strangely warm, with no barriers between- her eyes flew open when she felt something, and she let out a loud scream as she jumped away.

"AHHH!"

"AHHH!"

Arnav mirrored her expression, and she sat up suddenly, failing to realize that she wasn't wearing any clothes. His eyes dropped down to her bare chest, and she immediately scooted away, pulling the covers tightly around herself.

"What... why..."

"It's the morning, Khushi. And a very naked, very beautiful woman slept peacefully next to me."

She flushed deeply, her grip tightening around the sheets as she leaned up against the headboard. The memories of last night flooded back, and her blushed deepened when she realized he was still-

"I- you- go put clothes on!"

She covered her eyes, scowling at his chuckle as he grabbed his clothes from the ground.

She opened her eyes to see him wearing his boxers sinfully low on his waist, and swallowed nervously as the desire threatened to overtake her again.

Wait. What?! Wasn't that supposed to be... gone?

She slipped out of bed, mulling over the problem as she adjusted the sheet around her. He leaned against the doorframe, an amused smirk on his face.

"Stop looking at me!"

He walked into the bathroom, laughing as the door closed behind him. Khushi watched him leave, trying to stop the grin that threatened to appear on her face. She could feel the light breeze, the tingling of the windchimes delicately ringing in her ears.

She wasn't supposed to be hearing this! It was all supposed to be gone. What was happening to her?

She carefully stepped into the bathroom, meeting his curious gaze in the mirror.

No fuzzy socks. No. Fuzzy. Socks. Stop it, Khushi! Don't think about the fact that there won't be fuzzy socks anymore, it'll all be gone and- oh my god. They're still there!

She felt the smile break out, her cheeks flushing as they stared at each other. There was toothpaste all over their mouths, their hair messy from sleep and their eyes droopy with dark circles and gunk.

But it didn't matter.

All that mattered was the two of them, there, in that bathroom, smiling like idiots at each other.

And so, Devi Maiyya hit the button to play the wind chimes and the piano riff.

***

Arnav had a problem.

Khushi had invaded his brain.

That damned piano riff just wouldn't stop. It was even worse than before, where it would only play when they had a long, intense eyelock.

But now, it played whenever he glanced over at her and found himself (er, subtly of course) admiring her.

She didn't seem to be affected by it.

She was sitting at the table, sipping her chai as she carefully drew out the poster. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun, strands falling into her face, chewing on her bottom lip as she leaned back to examine the hot pink bubble letters.

He wished he could just reach over and-

Stop it, Arnav!

He hit the keyboard much harder than it needed to be, withholding a groan when he realized that once again, Aditi had been replaced by Khushi in the entire chapter.

He glared at the screen, Geet's email to him blinking mockingly.

"Arnav, go back through and change all of the Khushis to Kate. It's especially prevalent in the sex scenes. ;)"

Hmph.

And that woman didn't seem to be the least bit affected by it. She had calmly suggested the no-strings-attatched-have-fade-to-black-sex-once, and had proceeded to do exactly that.

She didn't seem to be plagued by Khuda Ve on loop, and the need to just push her up against the wall and crash his lips to hers, ripping off clothes.

Hmph. Good for her. It wasn't like he cared anyway. At least he wouldn't be bothered by another woman trying to get him to pay attention, to buy her roses, to buy her stupid sparkly Hallmark cards...

No. He didn't care. Not one bit.

Hmph.

***

Khushi had a problem.

Instead of fading away, the Khuda Ve had only gotten louder. The dhak dhaks had become the drumbeat for the Khuda Ve, and the fuzzy socks seemed to have had babies.

The one time she wanted to lose her socks, they refused to disappear.

They were steadfastly holding on to their place in her stomach, making her feel warm all over when she was near Arnav. It was like she was sitting in front of a fireplace, a gentle heat warming her to the core.

She glanced at Arnav, who seemed completely unaffected as he sat on the sofa, his fingers flying across the keyboard. He was wearing a pair of low slung sweatpants and a sweatshirt, his hair still messy from when she had run her hands through it and-

Stop it, Khushi!

She scowled at him, annoyed that he looked calm. The whole no-strings-attatched-have-fade-to-black-sex-once seemed to be working out incredibly well for him, and he didn't seem to be plagued by the music any longer.

Hmph. Good for him. It wasn't like she cared anyway. Maybe it just took time to fade...

She was startled out of her thoughts when her phone rang, and stared at it in surprise.

Maa ka phone aaya, maa ka phone aaya

It had been so long since she had talked to her parents. She felt the deep sense of melancholy set in as she stared at it, unable to believe that they had called her.

The ringtone faded away, and the phone blinked at her with one missed call.

She picked it up, and dialled the number.

"Hello, Ma?"

Arnav watched Khushi's retreating figure, a foreboding feeling settling in. He knew she had gone to talk to her parents, and he was glad they were making amends.

Would she... leave?

He felt queasy, as if the thought disturbed him.

Of course he wasn't bothered by that. He had wanted her to leave, hadn't he? He would finally have the bathroom to himself, the kitchen would be clean, his clothes would be in his room... he wouldn't be woken up by her singing, he wouldn't have to drown out her snores...

His thoughts trailed off, and the queasiness kept increasing. The vague, creepy music that always played when there was about to be an MU seemed to be hovering over him.

Why was he feeling queasy? He should be thrilled. He was thrilled. Of course. Now, she would be further away and they could just stay friends.

Just as they had planned.

He looked up as she walked back into the room, her eyes red and tears streaks on her cheeks.

"Khushi? Are you okay? Did they say something? What's wrong? Why are you- you've been crying! Do you want me to speak to them? We can go right now and-"

"They want me to come home."

Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. But it sounded as loud as the cymbals during a dramatic reveal, and if Arnav had been on a TV show, they would have zoomed in on his face three times. At least.

"H- Home?"

She gave him a watery smile, her eyes shining with happiness.

Was she that eager to leave? Was he that- no! You're happy about this!

"Yes. They want me to come home. They're not mad at me! They've been so worried, and they miss me and- Arnav, I'm so happy!"

She threw her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He shakily lifted a hand to reciprocate, trying to ignore the leaden weight in his stomach.

Friends. You guys are friends. It's not like you'll just stop talking. She'll still be there. Just not here.

She won't be here.

Yay?

She pulled back, frowning as she looked at him.

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

Shit. That was not a question he wanted to answer.

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"Um... yeah. That's uh... great. I'm so glad you're going home!"

Khushi felt her stomach plummet.

He... was glad? He wasn't even going to try and keep her here?

She smiled tightly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her affected by him.

She didn't care. Nope. Not one bit.

He studied her reaction carefully, looking for a sign that his response had bothered her.

But she looked almost... thrilled to be leaving, if the bright smile on her face was any indication.

Hmph. Leave. It's not like I care. I'll be able to shower in hot water.

"Do you want me to help you pack?"

Is he that eager for me to go?

"Of course! That would be lovely!"

Does she have to be so damn enthusiastic about it?

"Fine!"

I don't care. Fuzzy socks will be packed away.

"Great!"

I don't care. I can finally watch the stocks report! No Khuda Ve!

They turned away from each other, the plastered on smiles turning to annoyed frowns as they walked away.

***

Geet glanced between Arnav and Khushi. The two of them had been insufferably polite to each other, smiling at everything and never once snapping at the other.

She watched as Arnav helped Khushi carry another box, and then Khushi thanked him profusely for doing so.

It was annoying.

Something had changed between them, and she just didn't know-

Her eyes widened in realization as Khushi stumbled, and Arnav's hand immediately caught her, resting lightly on her waist.

The gesture seemed innocent, but the way his hand was placed was too intimate for two people who were just friends.

"Dhyaan se."

She saw Khushi nod, murmuring a soft thank you before stepping away from him, placing distance carefully between them.

They had slept together. Of course. She should have realized it earlier.

Smirking, she interrupted their silent avoidance of each other.

"Khushi, you look... different."

Khushi self consciously brushed a piece of hair away, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"You've got this... glow?"

She saw the red creeping up Khushi's neck. Biting her lip to hold back the smirk, she kept a perfectly straight face as she continued, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"It's like... the look people have when they're sleeping with someone."

"The look?!"

Khushi's voice squeaked, and she cleared her throat nervously.

"I- uh, I mean, the look? Is that even an actual thing?"

"Doesn't matter. Since you're... not sleeping with anyone, are you?"

"I- uh- I mean, no! Of course- uh, nope. Not at all. You know, I really have to go finish packing. And uh, boxes. Yup. Hmph. Sleeping with someone. You really need to branch out of your genre. Hmph."

Geet nodded slowly, shaking her head. Khushi was hopeless.

But Arnav...

She glanced at him, and he was staring straight ahead, not the slightest sign of fluster on his face.

"You're not going to tell her to stay?"

Arnav's gaze snapped up to her, but he quickly looked away, staring determinedly at the ground.

"Why would I?"

"Because you're in love with her."

Arnav scoffed unconvincingly, scowling.

"Love? Hah. Just because I'm a romance novelist, doesn't mean I think life works like that. She may think so. I don't. Love is a stupid concept that doesn't exist."

"No, Arnav. You have this ridiculous notion in your head that love only involves the chase, dramatic confessions at inopportune moments, and doing dances like Kabir to prove your love."

Arnav didn't respond, his jaw taut with tension. Geet sighed.

She made one last-ditch effort to get him to realize his feelings.

"Why do you always do the dishes, Arnav?"

"Because she hates doing-"

He broke off, realizing the implication of his words. Geet smiled softly, gently squeezing his shoulder.

"Think about that."

***

Arnav stared at the clock the next morning, sighing heavily.

It was quiet.

There was no singing from the bathroom, no loud cries of pain from someone stubbing their toe, no gargling, no snoring... nothing, for the past two weeks.

It was quiet.

Just like he liked it.

Right?

His head throbbed as he made himself a cup of chai, putting the ginger in the same way he always did.

He winced when he took a sip.

It didn't have enough sugar in it.

Hmph. He had gotten so used to her overly sugared chai that he couldn't even drink it how it was supposed to be had.

The kitchen was nice and clean, with no flour left over from her trying to make rotis. The walls were empty, with no random pictures. There were no colorful pillows, no fuzzy blankets...

Or socks, for that matter. The socks had disappeared, leaving this weird... emptiness in it.

Not that it mattered.

He shoveled the food into his mouth, turning on the TV. The stocks channel played out, a bored man rattling off statistics in a monotone.

He finally had control of the TV. There was no Kabir, no Aditi, no senseless storylines...

And no Khuda Ve.

Sighing, he changed the channel, flipping through quickly. Suddenly, the remote stopped working, just as Triangle Plus came on, the title track of that stupid show playing loudly.

Great. He finally had control of the TV, but now the remote was stuck on that channel. Couldn't it have gotten stuck on some other channel?

Resigning himself to his fate, he busied himself in trying to type the next chapter.

Kyun dard hai itna, tere ishq mein... Khuda ve, khuda ve, khuda ve, khuda ve...

Groaning, he pressed the mute button.

And pressed it again.

And again.

The TV refused to mute, the slow, sad version of the piano riff playing on repeat as Aditi stood at the mandap, her knees pulled up to her chest as she determinedly stated that he would be back.

Gritting his teeth, he made his way to the kitchen, dumping his dishes in the sink.

He stared at the sink full of dirty dishes, grasping the counter.

He hated washing the dishes. He really, really hated it. It was all gross and sticky, and there was food and the water was dirty...

Closing his eyes, he remembered her voice, whining as she pleaded with him to wash the dishes.

"Arnav, it's your turn today!"

"Mine?! I washed them yesterday! It's your turn!"

She would pout, moving so slowly as she shot him sad glances over her shoulder.

And without fail, he would roll his eyes and push past her, gruffly stating that he would do it himself.

The brilliant, self satisfied smile on her face as she laughed...

Why did he wash the dishes?

***

Khushi dragged her feet up to her room, sighing heavily.

It felt good to be back home, to be spoiled by her parents. She had missed them, missed talking to them.

But... there was something missing.

Not wanting to confront it, she dropped her bag on the ground, pulling out her laptop to finish the presentation that her boss had requested "Khoosie" to finish. Her parents were out for the night, and she was all alone in the house.

There was no one to crib about her singing, and the TV was free.

She could watch KDHI whenever she wanted, blast trashy music, and make a mess of the kitchen and no one would complain.

"OUCH! WHY WON'T THIS f**kING LADDER JUST STAY WHERE IT'S SUPPOSED TO?!"

She nearly screamed in shock when she heard the loud swearing from just outside.

Oh my god. Someone was going to come in her room and kill her. Oh my god. Should she scream? Maybe...

Her eyes landed on the gigantic, thick rod from her curtain falling down a week ago. Her eyes lit up.

Maybe there was some hope. If she could just whack the intruder and put him out...

She hid behind the closet door, seeing the top of a head make its way slowly up the ladder. The dark figure landed in her room with a loud thud, dusting himself off as he glanced around.

The light was dim, since she hadn't yet reached over to her bedside lamp to turn it on.

She squinted, trying to catch a glimpse of his face.

But he turned around too soon, and she couldn't see it. He was holding something in plastic that rustled as he moved.

She crept up behind him, vaguely hearing him muttering curses underneath his breath about something sparkly.

She lifted the stick, stumbling slightly, and gave him a hard whack on the head.

"OUCH! WHAT THE FUC-"

"Arnav?!"

Her mouth fell open in horror as he grasped his head, swaying slightly as he clutched the side of his head.

"Yes! It's me! Who else did you think it was?!"

"I just- I thought it was someone... intruding and I..."

She trailed off as he groaned in pain, rubbing at the side of his head.

"Oh my god, let me just... does it hurt?"

He glared at her, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"No. I'm just peachy. I just got whacked on the head by a- what even is that?"

"A curtain rod."

"By a curtain rod, and I'm doing perfectly fine. Thank god you barely have any strength, and didn't hit hard enough. You could have killed me!"

He saw the tears fill her eyes, and she began sniffling.

"Khushi, no, don't- don't cry! No! I'm okay! I'm not dead! I'm-"

"B-but I-I d-din't mean to-to h-hurt y-you!"

"Khushi, Khushi, love, look at me. I'm fine."

She looked up at him tearfully, sniffling loudly.

"Here, this will make you smile."

He picked her up, walking her over to the window.

She looked down to see a gigantic heart made out of candles, and looked at him in shock.

"Isn't that a fire hazard?"

Arnav glared.

This was the one time this woman decided to see sense?

"Forget the fire hazard for a minute, okay?"

He handed her a large bouquet of roses, and she took them, confused.

"But my favorite flowers are tulips!"

He ignored her, getting down on one knee.

"Uh... so I'm going to try singing this... so... uh... teri meri, meri teri, prem kahaani hai mushkil... wait, I swear I know the rest... uh... do... something something na ho payee..."

Khushi struggled to hold in the giggles, trying to keep a serious face as Arnav ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Okay, you know what, here- this will explain it."

He handed her a Hallmark card, with a giant, sparkly red heart. His hands were covered in glitter, and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

"So... I guess... I mean, I realized that... you know..."

She opened the card, staring at the indecipherable scrawl.

"Um, I don't really know what this-"

"You sing trashy music out of tune. You can't cook to save your life. You steal all the blankets and snore so loudly that I can hear you in the other room. You cry over a daily soap with my Buaji and Di. You talk incessantly. You're naive and believe that everyone is kind and sweet. You secretly read trashy romance novels. You love the roses and candles and giant declarations of love, even though it's utterly unrealistic. You always makes a mess of the kitchen. You're bubbly, take forever in the bathroom, and will eventually drive me insane with your antics."

He took a deep breath, staring at the ground.

"You hit me with a curtain rod and my head really hurts, and I brought you roses instead of tulips and I forgot the lyrics of the song, and I should probably put those candles out before something catches on fire and my hands are covered in glitter... I just wanted to, uh... well..."

He looked up at her, smiling nervously.

"Could I wash the dishes for you?"

She burst into laughter, doubling over. He began to laugh as well, and the two of them stood there in the middle of her dark room clutching their stomachs.

The laughter slowly began to fade, and they stared at each other, small smiles tugging at their lips.

Simultaneously, they leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into him as he deepened it. They pulled away, smiling like idiots.

"I take it that it's a yes?"

She laughed, her lips hovering above his.

***

"HAYEEE RE NANDAKISHORE! YEH KA HAI BABUA?! Tum log, tum log- yahan, main room mae, aise s-s-"

"Sex?"

Buaji glared at Arnav, who was standing in front of a mortified Khushi, shamelessly running his hands down her bare waist.

His shirt was unbuttoned on her, her hair undone and her lipstick smudged from his kisses. His shirt was pulled out of his jeans, the belt undone and hanging loose.

"Tujhe sharam nahi aati? Yeh hai meri parvarish? Upar jaake tumhari Ma ko kya bataungi? Haye re Nandakishore, Devi Maiyya, maaf kijiye, forgive me, I will make jalebis and break a narial-"

"Um, Buaji?"

"Haan, haan, what excuse will you make now?"

Arnav smiled innocently as Khushi hastily buttoned up her shirt, trying to smooth down her hair.

"Woh... this isn't sex, Buaji. This is foreplay."

"Besharam! Haye re Nandakishore! Maaf kar dena mere Arnav ko, forgive my Arnav, main hazar..."

As she raged on, Arnav tugged Khushi in for a long, deep, kiss, ignoring her horrified protests.

And Devi Maiyya smiled, hitting button, a different song starting this time.

Yeh ishq hai ya kuch aur hai, ya phir khali khali shor hai, haan, iss ko main kya kahoon, tu hi bata... tu hi bata

Iss pyaar ko, kya naam doon? Iss pyaar ko... kya naam doon?

***

Note: And that, is where I will leave you with this story.

To the person who initially encouraged me to write this, thank you! I wasn't always thrilled to write it, but I'm so happy with how it's turned out.

To Di, someone who is one of my closest friends- and encouraged me through this entire journey, I can't thank you enough. I love you so much, and I don't know what I would have done without you on this.

To Rith, thank you for being there! I'm so glad I got to know you, and I hope I touched on each and every cliche we have discussed :)

And lastly, but most importantly, thank you to my readers- I wouldn't have written this without you and your endless support. Thank you for leaving comments that have me smiling all day, for finding me amusing, and for reading my work.

I will miss these characters dearly- I've grown very, very fond of them over the course of writing this. This Arnav is my favorite of all of the ones I have written- and I think he will always be ;)

I will start a new journey in a short while, a story called Resistance. It's very different from what I usually write, but I hope you will join me for that as well. Below, is a preview.

*********

August 10 1942

Delhi India

Her eyes flashed with mortification and hurt, her entire body shaking with fury as she stepped away from the wall.

"Get the hell out, Raizada."

He swiveled on his heel, walking calmly out of the cell. He paused at the door, his back to her.

"Give up now, Khushi. This is nothing but trouble. You'll be labeled a traitor."

"I'd rather be a traitor to imperialistic bas***ds than a traitor to my friends, Raizada. That's something I certainly didn't learn from you."

She spit, her eyes boring a hole into his straight back. He stiffened instantly, and she knew he was seething with anger.

Without another word, he stalked out, leaving Khushi behind in the damp, drafty cell.

*********

Thank you so much for all your love and support! I hope to see you when I post this story, to join me on another journey with Arnav and Khushi.

The blog for Do Deewane is now open as well, and it can be found here.

Until next time and love always,

Choti