Hello again!
I'm overwhelmed, not only by the increase in response to this story, but also by how much some of the comments meant to me as a writer! - Truly humbled, and very much grateful!
Also, this chapter is some 24 hours late, because my laptop charger ditched me, and consequently the battery died on me before I knew about it... had to wait to get the new one to retrieve the document from my system
But here it is now, the much awaited drama of the grand finale (drama to be highlighted 😆) and I hope it will not prove a disappointment for whatever hopes you have of it!
Do not forget (yes, the same old stuck up record instruction) comments/likes/pms telling me what you made of the story - they mean so much to me! 😳
And now I'm off, making way for the infamously addictive Maaneet! 😆
ps: sookie san, 3 is not my jinxed number 😲😆
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It was only when the irregular but persistent sound of pelting stones upon her window had lasted several minutes, that she was roused from her slumber. Which had been restless anyways, thanks to her awkwardly sprawled limbs upon the diwan and head uncomfortably nestled into the crook of its one side arm, an old paperback, which she had never completed reading given her rare bed time sessions, having slipped through her fingers, lying discarded on the cold marble floor.
Some tens of seconds later, she had not only become aware of the awakening cause, but the cognizance of its implication had also dawned upon her. And because that did little to improve her sour disposition, partially from a disrupted sleep, she threw her gown over herself and walked to the targeted window in mounting displeasure which was evident from the mumbled grumbling.
"Dev Singh Khurana you will die at my hands one of these nights for..." She stopped, completely taken aback, by the presence of the elder Khurana brother instead, and at least for some seconds that followed, she was led into believing that her imagination was to blame for the specter of him she could see.
"Sorry to wake you up," he said simply, from his place on the ground exactly below her first floor window, and hearing the deep baritone was a confirmation that overruled her doubts. Reflexively her eyes went to grandfather clock on the bedroom wall, the hands of which lay stretched to relay an hour close to 2AM.
"Oh!... I... its okay... but... you... here?" He grinned at her startled incoherence, even as she asked herself mentally if it was possible that the distinguished Maan Singh Khurana had stooped to the indignity of throwing pebbles upon her window, at this height of unwelcome hour, to get her attention, like a spoiled unruly teenager?! For this rustic measure she had only ever known Dev to resort to, all these years.
"I had to ask you something important. It couldn't wait." He shrugged explaining, not particularly apologetic, and she was increasingly baffled by how he ever thought it was his place to act so whimsical after all that severity of decorum he imposed upon people around him, especially her.
"Geet... puttar?!"
And lo came on the lights in the previously darkened villa, as they both heard the familiar voice of her grandfather, beckoning in concern. Not a moment too late, he was leaning out of his window, adjacent to her own except for the pillar bound main porch which stood separating the two wings from ground level to top, and questioningly, Daar ji looked in her general direction. She didn't have to bother with a reply though, because Maan Singh Khurana was impossible to miss. Even as a dark figure blending with his greater darkness of a moonless night. Even when people were half groggy with sleep.
"Maan?"
It was his turn to be questioned by Daar ji, who was more astonished than offended at this untimely arrival of a guest. Then again, the Khuranas had never been guests in their home. But to find Maan, and not Dev, loitering around his property at this ungodly hour did puzzle the old man as it had her.
"Sat sri akal Daar ji," he replied respectfully, like his appearance here was the most natural thing to expect.
"Jeonde reho puttar," came the default reply, unexceptional, barring its present uncertain note. "What brings you here Maan? Is everything okay at home? Is Savitri Devi quite alright?"
"All is well, Daar ji and Daadi Ma has been long asleep," Maan replied, patiently, and only when the old man was done with his volley of questions. "I just had a matter to discuss with Geet, that couldn't be slept over." Then with a careful pause, he added, "Nothing worrisome though."
"Oh well then, at least let him into the house Geet, there is a chill in the night that I would hate for Maan to catch." Typical of Daar ji, to worry about all those mini disasters that were likely, or unlikely, to strike a person and render him gravely unfit. If there was born a person so convinced of eventual calamity in everyone's life, it had to be the dear old caring Daar ji!
Currently, Geet, looking suspicious about Maan's amicable smile, supplemented by an incredible amount of sweet humor, consented to Daar ji's bidding, even as the old man without further ado returned to his interrupted sleep.
"What was it that couldn't wait another few hours until morning?" she asked him, partially irritated by her incapability to determine her real reaction at his unexpected turn up, nor his mysterious purpose behind it. Spontaneously, as Maan brought in with himself a wave of the uninvited cold from outside, she pulled her thin fabric gown closer to herself. There was a nip in the air alright.
"Are you cold?" he asked her, a simple question, and yet it was as if her own question had gone unheard, as if in view of her slightest shiver nothing else could gain priority. Geet was struck, not for the first time in the last few hours, at signs she couldn't believe herself to have overlooked for so long. And that brought back to her, something else he had said to her on the boat too... about a lover who wore his heart on the sleeve... for her...
But what was she thinking!
"I'm fine." she half lied, with a warm color in contrast to the cold outside rising softly in her cheeks. Conscious of it, she stood aside to give him space. He nodded, then without need of being told his way around, he strode past her. The flimsy spell was broken, Geet rolled eyes to see him headed for the kitchen, before securing the doors and following him.
"I'm hungry," he declared, the second she had stepped into sight, to find him rummaging through the refrigerator.
"And you've crossed boundaries at this time of the night to get your post midnight snack?"
"Boundaries? We're not separated by an LoC you know. I also need a cola by the way."
"Why Nakul quit stocking up your pantry or what?" She asked, referring to the in house man servant in the Khurana mansion.
"Geez Geet! I missed my dinner after the evening workout thanks to the coffee you wanted to have with me, which eventually you ditched me for. Now you can't afford one decent snack for a late night guest without fretting about unexpected consumption of your groceries?"
"Its hard when the guest has an abyss for a stomach!"
"What?! Come on! Its a 16 pack okay!"
"Hah! You know what, after you're done stuffing up each one of your 16 packs, please show yourself out. You don't need me for directions, and I, am in dire need of sleep."
"Oh but curiosity killed the cat!" He pointed out promptly, raising himself to a working shelf in the middle of the kitchen. Satisfied with her wary expression, he continued, "I dare you to try pretending sleep when your mind will be pestered with thoughts of why I came over...!" So it wasn't for food at least, but of course it wasn't, whatever she may say to mock him. Point was, he was right. She had to hear him out. The knowing smirk on his face was tiresome nonetheless, and she was equally appalled, as she was agitated by this extremely un-Maan-like behavior from him.
"So you mean Your Highness will actually consider disclosing the grave secret behind His kind visit tonight?" Frustratingly unruffled by her dripping sarcasm, Maan simply hmm-ed, nodding, his mouth full with a big bite of the quick salmon sandwich he had whipped for himself already, from the bread and canned fish at his disposal. No margarine, no mayo, no salt or pepper - she had always thought his taste in food ultra weird and unforgivably bland. Draining it with a large sip of the diet coke, he finally found the air to talk.
"Is there anyway I can undo your moodiness before we talk?" Geet frowned at his words, which sounded serious, even while he chomped into his sandwich, as were his eyes, somberly watchful of her. She couldn't make up her mind about his ways tonight.
"Its okay," she said finally, in a tone that was effectively composed, "I'm just... I suppose I never thought I'd see you throw pebbles at my window to wake me up for a late night chat... its... unreal to me..." He broke into a smile at her candid confession through his munching, then shook head at himself the next second, in an intriguing thoughtfulness, and she could suddenly not wait to know what was on his mind. But with the anticipation, kicked in the spoilsport feminine instinct too, as an apparent heads up. Impulsively she opened a high closet, and standing on her tip toes pulled a bag of sun-baked potato chips, the only kind she had ever known him to eat.
"Lets go up," she said, thrusting the packet into his arm, and grabbing his wrist to make him budge. Maan obliged, slithering off the shelf without resistance, and her gown freed from her grip loosened up front, to reveal a sight that made him chuckle again. "What's so funny?" she asked, shooting him a wry look.
"Nice outfit!" he exclaimed in amusement, at her fading Pokemon tee with matching knee length boxers.
"Need I tell you exactly who to blame for the preposterous sense of fashion?" She shot back tartly.
"You know you were dying to own one of these when Dev got his, but couldn't ask for it cause you were too old to demand boy's wear!"
"Well how thoughtful of you to realize my 'dark desire'! I shall never forget the humiliation at the hands of my girl gang when I opened it among my birthday gifts."
"You were humiliated?! Excuse me! I did you a favor by getting you a gift you secretly wanted, without caring for all the ridicule that came my way as a consequence! And of course, you only glared at me and threw a tantrum about my embarrassing taste!"
They had reached the landing of the first floor and the first door to their right led to her bedroom. Turning around, leaning her back against the closed door, she faced him with arms crossed in front.
"What made you think I was desperate to own such a loony looking outfit?"
"Why do you still own it then? Like when was this I gifted it to you... let's see, your 10th birthday?And look at you! Still wearing it, like a decade and 7 years later! And heck it sort of even fits you!"
"Its rude to talk of a lady's age Mr. Prim-and-Proper!" she said indignantly. Part of her offense came from personally knowing that out of sheer whim, she had earlier ransacked her entire closet in search of this night dress cause... well, she'd just felt like wearing it tonight. But he wasn't going to hear that from her. Not in a million years!
"Oh no no no! Its actually rude to ask a lady's age - but I'm not asking, and hello, which lady are we talking about again?"
"Gosh, what is wrong with you tonight! But why am I even wasting my time arguing with you! Argh!!!"
Huffing, she turned upon her heel, twisted the door knob and walked into her room. Maan cocked a brow behind her, and pressed his lips to curb his grin, before following suit and entering behind her, tongue against his cheek.
He had put several hours into furious thinking, before bidding himself to quash the negativity and find the courage to come up here, and still, deep within, he had been significantly undecided about this entire approach. Right up to the moment that is, that she had appeared at her window, and it was as if his battling insides made instant peace at the sight of her - rumpled and annoyed, rubbing her eyes and adorably cute.- a sight that in a strange way defined everything about the girl he was in love with. It was an omen like green signal, one to make him realize why he was willing to take the risk, how much he wanted this, and how very long he had; there was no looking back. And from that particular moment beneath her window sill, Maan had felt himself in control of things, the way he liked to be.
In his thoughts, currently, he didn't catch sight of the abandoned paperback on the floor, and staggered a little, catching his toe in it, before regaining his balance. He frowned at the culprit copy, picked it up and recognized it right away - one of the many from his personal collection that she would borrow regularly, but never come around to reading. It was one of their constant topics to bicker about, her lack of persistence, in his opinion, in following through what is once begun to its end. It was on the tip of his tongue to say as much, as always, but then he thought the better of it and kept quiet. Instead, he walked over to her reading table, stuck it up neatly on the shelf, and further placed the empty cola can and tissues he had used to wipe his hands, at an edge, meaning to gather and dispose them off in the kitchen garbage downstairs on his way out. Later.
"I always marveled at your immaculate ways when we were kids you know."
He looked up at the transformation in her voice, no more irritated, but solemn, and reminiscing. Her gaze, he traced to his carefully put aside waste, and it explained partly at least, the source of her remark. A smile, melancholic, apparently from the nostalgia, began to play upon her lips and she continued, talking to her audience of two - him, and herself.
"But all the lectures I got for never becoming anything as good as you, would make me hate your perfection so much. I wasn't jealous, I just never came to terms with the constant comparisons. With your ideal-hood, with Dev's plan to pursue higher studies, even with Nain Tara's feminine sensitivity to the thought of settling down while I continue calling off even discussions about the matter as no Indian girl ought to... I'm resigned to remain 'the good child who could have been better if her parents had been around to look out for her'." She paused, when blinking away at an ill timed stinging sensation in her eyes made her aware of his eyes fixed upon her - they were extra watchful tonight, she thought, or maybe she was just over wrought with this day, in need of sleep, and imagining...
Geet looked away, fixing a lose strand behind her ear. Although her thinking aloud had not been exactly loud, the seconds of pause in her idle confessions made the room unnaturally quiet, and she became aware of the sound of the wind outside - it seemed to have gathered strength. Finding her reasonable escape, she got up to shut the window, and Maan followed her with his eyes, unblinking.
Her words had shaken something of his towering confidence. He was frowning lightly without knowing of it, as the untiring voice inside asked him how he had never seen through Geet to recognize this nuance in her person. Despite his firm belief in knowing her so very well, better even, than she did herself. He had been proven right too, far too many times to counter this personally held conviction. But for now, he didn't know what exactly was making her say all this, why she had never revealed any of it before through words or actions... all these years, even to him. And the unsettled debate of his preceding hours was back to disturb him, especially her mention of the procrastinated talks of any alliance for her. She was, as he had pointed out in jest before, 27 years old now, and that wasn't an age when society expected a girl to still be a maiden. He had known of Daar ji's continued efforts, in vain, to convince her to at least begin considering the idea, cause ironic part was that he, Maan, had been one of Daar ji's constant confidantes, although inactive, in the quest to persuade Geet. But somehow, and he suddenly found this extremely negligent on his part, he had never thought too gravely about Geet's persistent denial. Perhaps, he had unknowingly accounted himself for it, perhaps it was his own wishful mind which had subconsciously assumed that she was waiting for him to take the first step...
Vital point was, why he had never paid deserved attention to this matter, and thought through all its possible perspectives. It was all very well if it was in fact about him, but what if it was not? Involuntarily, Maan's mind was inundated with all the negativity he had put at bay with much effort. Maybe this was his real signal - and a red one, not green. Maybe he was being hasty, or worse, vainly optimistic about this. Maybe, he had still better take more time, and put more thought into this matter... Whatever and however desperately he wished to begin a new phase in his life, with her, nothing was worth risking the loss of her friendship. Nothing.
The silence in the room became painfully evident, and he realized she had shut the window, and with it the assuring sounds of the night.
"Daar ji has always hoped and wished to assume that place in your life Geet, of a deserving parent, if not the biological one." he spoke up at last, sensibly, but more so with the intention of getting her to turn around and face him. Cause he couldn't take staring at her untelling back another second, nor the increasing questioning of his own voice inside. "He has never meant for you to bear any complex, feel compared or inferior."
"I'm not blaming him," she said immediately, turning around, with a defensive note creeping into her words at his having even thought her remarks accusing.
"No I know you're not and that's not how I..."
"I think I'm fairly tolerant of correctional lectures, and you for one should really know that MK." She went on, cutting him. In a matter of fact tone, rather than a reproachful one. Maan was sure about one emotion among his current many as being that of guilt, and it weighed him down. This entire unforeseen discussion weighed him down in fact.
"You are." he agreed quietly, and just that. He couldn't think of what more to say, whether or not to even try and say what he had come for, and a part of him was already working upon a way to leave instead. Geet however, seemed to consider this long night only just begun.
"You know those countless times that I thought I was being unfairly told off, or the rare times that I was actually grounded, I nearly always blamed you, and the unattainable benchmark of your ways which I was expected to emulate, and secretly," she paused as if to ascertain he was listening, and understanding her, "In sheer defiance, I vowed to never become anything like you..."
"Well you're not like me." His words came before he had consciously thought them over, but even as they did, he didn't regret them. It was only the truth. In Geet's eyes however, which looked into his, he detected the defensive streak once more. There she goes, he thought, misunderstanding me all over again. She looked like she would say something to confirm as much, but he held up his hand, signaling her to let him complete, and miraculously, she didn't make a fuss. His volume dropped some decibels with each conscious step he took in her direction, while the deliberation in his words rose, "You are also not like Dev, or Nain Tara, or Daadi Ma, Daarji, Pinky, Adi, Tasha or anybody else I know... or don't know even... " The defense in her eyes gave way to an intent look, making him pause, the kind she wore when she was trying really hard to understand something very complex, and unexpectedly, it brought a small smile on his face. He pressed his lips together, looking away just for a second, but it was enough for Geet to recover.
"You're making fun of m..."
"Shhh!" He silenced her, this time physically formidable as he placed a firm finger on her lips, having covered the last few feet between them in one leaping giant stride. And when she stared at his tall stately form slightly stooping over her, with her eyes big and round and very brown, he remembered something he had told her long ago, when they had been but little kids... comparing her eyes with those of baby bambi from a picture of the latter in her kindergarten easy reads; for a moment his present words were lost to this forgotten memory, his expression softened as Maan thought in fond appreciation of how appropriate his compliment was, and how sharp, coming especially at that age.
"You're just you." he whispered softly, retrieving his finger upon her lips, to fix her errant strand that had come lose again.
For Geet this was a first. Not the proximity - they'd grown up together, and like any two individuals who had, they had had their fair share of intimate moments to recount, the cordial ones and the not so cordial ones - but this was categorically like neither. The impact of his closeness sort of retarded the functioning of her vital organs - so much, that it took her quite a few seconds to recall what he had been saying, and register what he had just told her, and then a struggle ensued inside her head to connect the two and make sense.
A brush of the back of his hand against her face broke through her thoughts, as if aware of her diminishing lack of attention to his words, and as if hence, to revive it. She caught her breath in reaction, but it sure accomplished his purpose.
In that instant, he ceased to be just MK to her. He was Maan Singh Khurana of Khurana Industries, the enigmatic male who was dreaded and desired alike by every female who's path he had crossed, the most eligible bachelor in town. She became awfully aware of his presence, her senses in turn became frightfully alert.
"Nobody who knows you Geet, and is in their right minds, can ever want to change anything about the way you are." His words in a whisper were a warm breath over her face. A warmth that she could feel penetrate right through herself, for even the unfamiliar headiness his nearness was seeming to induce, did not render her oblivious to the rising heat in her cheeks, and the apprehension of how much they were visibly coloring. Nervously, she blinked at him, before shutting her eyes in a desperation to regain some control.
"Maan..." she begun to speak, but the name never escaped her lips.
"Certainly not Daar ji..." and most certainly not me, he wanted to add, but didn't. She may have seen it in his eyes though, if her own had not been closed, although reading eyes, his eyes, had never been her forte in his considered opinion.
"Maan..." she said again, and this time it was audible, "I... need to go..." his brow rose in question, and she fumbled on, "I... erm... washroom..." In his now narrowed eyes, she saw a glimpse of something she couldn't recognize, and then without a warning, he shot her a smile. A wide MK smile, which was the rarest expression in the history of his existence.
"Well... what are you waiting for?" he asked, and even in the husky baritone there was a distinct amused note.
"I.. But you..." and abruptly, she realized. Staring at his hands, both of them, by his sides.
"Don't expect me to carry you to the washroom!"
She looked up in an alarmed way, only to find a cheeky lopsided grin on his face, and this time she was certain her face was burning red. He wasn't holding her, not physically anyways. Why she could have stepped away from him all this while, but it was like he had hypnotized her or something... Hastily, she stepped back now, one, two and three steps, till her own back came to touch the cold window pane behind her. Maan stood where he was, watchful again, even as she slipped past him in a hurry.
And then, left to himself, he was solemn at once. He had to think of something to tell her, for why he was here, cause even if momentarily he was certain she had forgotten all about it, she was sure to come around in time. Alternately, well, he had better just walk out of this place, now, without a word. Geet would wonder, but not worry, cause being unpredictable was not unusual for him. She'd probably call him a few weird names before dismissing the matter and then fall asleep. Morning was a while away, and he would think of something to say by the time he'd see her in office...
But was he throwing his big chance away?
Despite the warning her earlier shared revelation had served for him, only seconds ago he had seen it in her eyes. The effect he'd had on her. It wasn't casual, it wasn't anything that he'd spotted ever before - in her eyes that is. He'd realized how utterly overwhelmed she was only when she'd spoken his name in that alien sounding voice, and her mention of a washroom thereafter was, he could swear, but an alibi to escape. But he knew that look when he saw it - it appeared only when women around him were either plain smitten, or significantly intimidated...
Which one had she been?
"Maan..." her voice cut short his thoughts, and also rid him of the chance to make the unannounced escape. By default then, his decision had been made. The chance had to be taken. He turned to face her, standing behind him, not far but a safe distance away, and his keen sight observed immediately her avoiding eyes, fiddling hands, and some drops of water glistening in her front hair. All signs affirming his conjecture. But there was still no being sure if it was for the good, or bad. "I was wondering," she began, then cleared her throat lightly, "I mean, isn't it... getting... late for you?" And finally, she dared to lift her gaze to him, too anxious perhaps, only to catch his reaction. So, she was asking him to go?Not good, he thought gravely, not good at all. Apparently it was the case of intimidation, not impression.
"Not unless you need to sleep right away." he replied flatly, suddenly feeling exasperated with all their allusive remarks and talking in riddles.
"I..." he saw her clench-unclench her fist, and swallow hard, begin to nod, then shake her head slowly, but not once did she look at him. Maan gave an impatient sigh.
"Geet!"
"Maan, I... you have early..."
"Geet!" he repeated, with more command, so she had to look up, and when she did he swore under his breath. It had to be the doing of his repeatedly over wrought nerves in the last few hours. He had lived with the unaffected facade for so long now, and it had none been too easy. But today was exceptionally hard. It was like little little things piling up, mounting to an unbearable climax.
"Aren't you even going to ask me?" he said, a finality in his voice. Like his mind was made up, at last. She was puzzled by his question, and he saw she wasn't feiging it. Indeed, she had temporarily forgotten all about unearthing the big truth. "About what couldn't wait?" he reminded her, and an instant comprehension flickered in her eyes. "About why I'm here... in your room... at this time?" She realized with a start, that the careful distance between them was no longer standing, that she was dwarfed once more by overbearing presence of Maan Singh Khurana, and that her stubborn feet were glued to the spot. "Look at me Geet," and she had to.
And then she knew exactly what he was talking about. It was staring back at her in his eyes. For the second time in one day, she realized, her breath feeling sucked up and dry, she was going to hear those words. Only this time, Geet saw it coming...
"I've fallen in love."
It didn't help. Having seen it come that is. Even though it was somewhat anti climatic, in the sense that it was only part confession. He had not taken the name, her name... yet. But it didn't seem like it could remain unstated forever.
"Actually, its been some time now," he went on, "A long time. Look at me Geet." And his hand went to the back of her head to tilt it his way. Gasping, Geet shut her eyes, tightly, like a little scared girl. It made him feel helpless like he never had before, even with her, but he was much too deep in it now to turn back, or simply quit. "Please, look at me! I've been keeping it a secret too long now, and I can't take it anymore! I have to say it... Geet!" His hold tightened, and he raised the other hand to her face, stroking a stray, tentative thumb over her cheek. Inevitably, her eyes fluttered open. "You know what I'm saying Geet, don't you? You know what I'm talking about! Who, I'm talking about..."
She couldn't respond. It was like every part of her was strained to, but she still couldn't give him a reaction. Of course, she knew what he was saying, who he was talking about. She realized, she had sensed it coming all evening... it was this he had been telling her on the boat, it was this she had seen in that photograph on his wall, and it was this she had to talk to Daadi Ma about... she had known it all evening, but not really. In fact, she admitted to herself now, she had probably even known why he was here all this time.
"I don't know where this will take us Geet, and believe me, I've given this more thought then you can ever imagine. I didn't know whether to come over or not... and I couldn't make up my mind. But I came because I just couldn't stay. Don't ask why. And then just when I thought I was perfectly set to tell you, you said... all that... all that stuff about..." He looked into her eyes with a sigh, cause she wasn't averting them anymore at least. Fervently, she knew he was seeking her for some sign, some hint, that would guide him... show him the way. And it struck her, the irony, of him, Maan, seeking direction from her, Geet. Suddenly, she was filled with an inexplicable surge of elation, which made her want to laugh out loud. There was no knowing, or telling why. But it was making her heady again, and somewhat breathless.
He loved her! Maan Singh Khurana loved Geet Kaur Handa! Whatever was the world coming to....?! What was she thinking... Why wasn't he saying anything anymore? She didn't like this silence, it was drowning her with questions. She didn't want it... Oh and she was feeling giddy now... maybe she would faint...? But he was here. He would take care of her, would he not? Had he always not? Would he carry her to her bed?Would he... Stop!!! Abruptly, she inhaled sharply, feeling very short of breath.
"Geet?" His concern worked the miraculous wonder of a sweet smelling salt. The thought as such made her want to giggle, the elation soaring again, and she wondered distantly if perhaps, she was losing her mind? "Geet, are you alright? Please say something! I... I'm sorry... if you're hurt... or... I don't know! Geet are you listening to me, say something for heaven's sake!"
She opened her mouth, and he looked at her with so much expectation, that she really wanted words to come. To assure him. To... comfort him. But words weren't coming! Those stubborn good for nothing forever in abundance words of hers, they were all at once crowding to come, and congesting her sound box in the process, at least that's what she thought would be happening, cause no words, none at all came. In frustration at herself, she shook her head hard, a movement that took all her strength and showed upon her face as a deep set frown. And when she turned back to him to try yet again, it shocked her, if that was still possible, in fact mortified her quite, cause she was most certain she could detect a film of moisture clouding over his eyes. Oh no, she thought in alarm, he's misunderstanding me! My God!
"Maan!"
Came her first sound, raspy even if, spelling his name, but immediately he looked away. Only for a moment, after which he looked back at her, with a face that was pulled straight with painful effort, and when she opened her mouth, to clarify, he hushed her again, this time visibly tired instead of dominating. He looked away once more, and she saw him blink away rapidly, before turning to her, and then wordlessly, urging her to move, till she figured he was getting her to sit down on her bed. She watched him then, fill her a glass of water from the glass jug by the bed side, with strained grip that made his hands look ever so slightly shaky, and she thought how it was just like she had imagined! Him caring, taking her to her bed, okay, not carrying, but then she hadn't exactly fainted either! And he didn't even know! Oh god, she had to tell him!
"Maan!" she exclaimed, her voice discovering itself at last and coming unbelievably clear! She decided it all his doing. His proximity stole her words - her words, nobody would believe that! But all that later... "Maan listen, I..."
"Please Geet," he interrupted her quietly, and the sound of his voice shut her up. It was hoarse... like he was speaking through tears she couldn't see. "Don't say anything... I mean, I know. Just... just don't say it." he paused, swallowing hard at the welling inside that was becoming impossible to subdue, "I'm sorry." He handed her the glass, which she took obediently, looking at him all the while.
"But you don't..."
"Drink your water Geet!" he said resolutely, reacquiring something of his typical Maan self, and she would have stuck out her tongue at him, but for his eyes, which were visibly full, and his broad shoulders which were noticeably hunched."It is late, now, too late. I must leave." With that, he turned around, without meeting her eye, to walk out of the place, before her hand grabbed his wrist, which stiffened instantly at her touch.
"Aren't you going tell me?" she asked, making him frown, "That you love me?" He turned around, nearly snapping his neck, at her last words. And urgently, searchingly, he stared into her eyes. Moments passed as she waited in the earnest, but he only stared at her, and she supposed with a wry sense of dread, that it was karma's prompt payback. Was he ever going to say it? He had been about to, right? Or... god forbid, if it wasn't her he had meant...
In a flash, her wild musing was cut short, as she was yanked from where she sat on the bed, to her feet, not gently, and then before she knew what hit her, he had his arms around her pulling her into a crushing embrace. It stunned her, quite simply, this wordless action... His always high head burrowed itself into her long tresses that fell softly like a veil over her neck, and the fingers of his hand dug into her hair, stroking them in unchecked passion.
"I love you!" he said sound very thick, and muffled, but she heard him alright. "I love you Geet! I always have."
"And still you have told me off for being a spoiled child?" He laughed, dropping a kiss upon her hair, and laughed some more, increasing relief, and consequent happiness washing him over. And closer still he pulled her to himself.
"Because you are! And that's who I've always loved! All the years that I have known and accepted, and many more before that I did not! Its always been you Geet, you, and no one else! Its crazy, and I know you're going to wonder why you ought to be in love with a heartless jerk of a man, but pray, let it be so!"
And it was only then, as if in consent, that she finally relaxed in his arms, like all the strain, all the tension, all the exhaustion had dissolved away... She finally revelled in the security of his castle like arms about her, the assuring, loving stroking of her hair and his warm breath tickling her neck through her them... And it left her feeling light, and extremely giddy, the surge of elation hitting back, reinforced, and this time she did laugh. It was soundless, because her voice was lost again, and she also felt just as faint as before...
Her last conscious thought, before sinking into his person, returning the fervour of his embrace, was to wish she would faint, for real this time, just to be in his arms forever!
Of course she loved him... Geet loved Maan more than she had ever known!
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ps: if you enjoyed reading this story, i'm very glad 😃
if you thought it went over the top (in its drama quotient) blame it on Jane Austen, Maaneet, and also Abhay Deol for my getting carried away! 😆
Be sure to leave me your opinions either way!
also, here's something I made on a whim yesterday - before the system died on me that is ...
loved writing for all the readers on this thread!
And once again, this one is for you Nibbles!
cheers,
nj
Edited by spln - 14 years ago
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