Something About Us- MG || (Part 51|Page 52) - Page 16

Wow maan and geet perfect for each other and they are enjoying with ease with out tension

thanks for the pm and update

Part 12

of cos Maan noticed Geet

she was indeed dressed elegantly

Maan's silence says it all

even Geet knows this

Geet's thoughts were reasonable

she was once there serving drinks

now she arrived on Maan's arms

as expected Maan was observant

his reaction was justified

great seeing Maan and Geet conversing

so for her its Maan before and not the MSK

feeling for Maan

that lady tried her luck

Maan was clearly disinterested

well Geet found this entertaining

her question was anticipated

loved Geet's comments

Maan was really impressed

Geet was really enjoying at Maan's expense

these people are all pretentious

at least Maan and Geet were having fun

enjoying their banter

so they do understand each other

glad that Maan and Geet shared a moment of camaraderie

Geet's reaction was justified

liked that Maan reciprocated and hi fived her

update soon

wow what a night!!! been a while since they have been so much in sync and understanding each other.....

Geet for sure had a phenomenal time and having her as company maan did too genuinely....they both were so good in figureing out what people were upto...

wonder if others realise what these two are upto???? hmmm

till the high five....it shifted a little ....electricity around them....interesting...

Part 13

The hi-five incident had thrown Geet completely off balance.

For a brief moment, everything had felt too natural, too easy—like they had slipped into something familiar, something that shouldn’t have existed between them.

And Maan’s simple “No.” had done nothing to help.

She needed to break the tension.
Needed to do something before she started overthinking.

So she did the most logical thing.

She went to get food.

That was a normal thing, right?
Food. Eating. Something to occupy herself with.

The gala’s buffet was elegantly arranged—rows of exquisite dishes, plated with precision, all designed to impress the city’s wealthiest elite.

Geet? Not impressed.

She picked a few things that looked edible and, without consciously deciding to, she grabbed a plate for Maan as well.

Because maybe she was playing the role of a secretary tonight.
Because maybe that’s what secretaries did.
Because maybe—just maybe—she didn’t want him drinking on an empty stomach.

Not that she’d ever admit that last one.

She returned to where he stood, placing the plate down in front of him, barely looking up as she did.

Maan was mid-conversation with another guest, his voice a low, smooth rumble of polite disinterest.

Geet intended to slip away quietly, to avoid any more awkwardness—

But then she realized something.

The guest had already left.

And Maan was watching her.

Noticing her.

His dark eyes flickered from the plate to her face, as if assessing, as if trying to read something beyond the gesture.

And then—

She took a bite.

A small bite, barely anything, her lips pressing together as she chewed.

Her expression remained neutral—but Maan caught it.

That micro-expression.

The barest flicker of disappointment.

The way her lips parted slightly, her jaw tensed just a fraction as she swallowed.

She wasn’t a fan.

And he knew it.

Maan’s voice was low, knowing.

“That bad, huh?”

Geet froze mid-chew.

Her eyes darted to him, caught off guard, a flicker of something unguarded crossing her face before she looked down, her cheeks warming ever so slightly.

She swallowed hurriedly, embarrassed that he had noticed something so small.

Maan’s lips twitched slightly, holding back amusement.

He lifted his glass, tilting it slightly toward her.

“That’s why—this.”

Geet glanced up, her eyes landing on the amber liquid in his glass.

A quiet realization dawned.

He drank not just because he liked it.
Not just because it was habitual.
Not just because it dulled the edges of his own mind.

But because this life—this world of soulless conversations, tasteless luxury, and empty formalities—was unbearably bland.

Just like this food.

Maan took a slow sip, his gaze not leaving her.

And Geet—

For once—

Had no immediate comeback.

Because for the first time tonight, she understood.

And for the first time—Maan knew she did.

Conversations looped endlessly, the clinking of glasses and forced laughter blending into a monotonous hum.

Geet stifled a yawn, pressing a hand over her mouth as subtly as possible.

She had tried—tried—to stay engaged, to pretend she cared about yet another discussion on stock portfolios and industry forecasts.

But God, she was bored.

Maan, who had been speaking to an investor, glanced at her for barely a second.

And yet—

He noticed immediately.

His movements were effortless, decisive—an adjustment of his cuff, one last sip of whiskey— and then, just like that—

He turned on his heel.

And walked away.

Geet blinked.

Wait.

What?

She hurried after him, confused. “Wait—where are we going?”

Maan didn’t slow his stride. “You’re clearly tired. Or bored. Or both.”

Geet faltered mid-step.

She hadn’t expected that.

Not the fact that he had noticed—he always noticed—

But the fact that he had acted on it so immediately.

Just like that.

Without a word.

Without making a scene.

And that realization…

Took her aback.

+++++

The gala had dragged on, a never-ending loop of polished conversations, overpriced champagne, and hollow smiles.

By the time Maan and Geet had stepped out of the ballroom, the air outside felt sharper, crisper—almost freeing.

Except, freedom was an illusion.

Because the hotel driveway was a mess.

A grand wedding procession had completely taken over the entrance, and the valet service had crumbled under the chaos.

The heavy thump of dhols filled the night air, echoing between the grand pillars of the hotel’s entrance.

Men in embroidered sherwanis danced with wild enthusiasm, their jackets flaring as they moved, while a group of women in glittering lehengas clapped along, laughing.

The groom, perched atop a white horse, looked blissfully unbothered as his baraatis reveled in their victory over time itself.

And in the middle of it all—

Maan Singh Khurana stood on the steps of the five-star hotel, checking his watch with the precision of a man who valued efficiency above all else.

Thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes since they had left the gala.
Thirty minutes since they had been standing in this exact spot.
Thirty minutes of watching a baraat dance in circles, blocking every possible exit.

Maan exhaled through his nose, adjusting his cuff with the quiet resignation of a man accepting his fate.

“This is our life now.”

Beside him, Geet—who had been struggling to keep a straight face—finally lost it.

She laughed, eyes bright with amusement, arms crossed loosely as she took in the absurdity of the situation.

“Accept your fate, Mr Khurana.”

Maan swirled the melting ice in his now-empty whiskey glass.

His voice was even, unaffected. "I don’t accept fate. Fate accepts me."

Geet smirked. "And yet, fate has you stuck in this baraat."

Maan sighed, tilting his head in acknowledgment. “This is an exception.”

Geet chuckled. "You’re acting like we’re stranded on an island."

Maan gave her a long, unreadable glance, then, without changing expression—

"A very loud island. With dhols."

And that—

Was the beginning of the end.

At first, the wait had been annoying.

Then irritating.

Then downright exhausting.

And now—

Now, it was entertainment.

Because Maan was talking.

And when Maan Singh Khurana decided to offer commentary, it was delivered with the deadpan precision of a man who had mastered the art of silent judgment.

He nudged his empty whiskey glass slightly, sighing.

"At this rate, our car has been handed down as an heirloom to another family."

Geet let out a snorted laugh, covering her mouth as she tried to keep it together.

Maan continued, adjusting his cufflinks with exaggerated patience.

"I assume the valets have found new careers and will never return."

Geet was wheezing now.

Her shoulders shook, her breath coming in short gasps as she held onto her stomach, fighting for composure.

Maan sighed dramatically, taking in the chaos around them with the long-suffering patience of a man being personally wronged by the universe.

"This is it. This is how it ends. We are part of this baraat now."

And that was it.

Geet lost it.

She stumbled slightly, laughing so hard she had to lean against one of the grand marble pillars for support.

Her entire body shook, her face half-buried in her palm as she gasped for air.

And Maan—

Maan just stood there, watching her, a slow smirk curling at the edges of his lips.

Because for once, he had won.

++++

Geet hadn’t noticed it at first.

She had been too busy laughing, breathless from Maan’s running commentary, still holding onto the marble pillar for support.

But Maan?

Maan noticed everything.

The way the young men in the baraat kept glancing toward Geet.
The way their gazes lingered—admiring, interested, intrigued.

She was, after all, strikingly beautiful—actress-level stunning.

The deep emerald dress clung to her frame like water, her soft waves cascading over her shoulders, her lips still parted from laughter.

And under the golden glow of the hotel lights, surrounded by the chaos of the wedding party, she stood out like a vision.

Unreachable.
Effortless.
Completely unaware of the attention she was drawing.

But Maan was not unaware.

His jaw tightened.

His gaze flickered sharply toward the group of young men in the baraat, who were not-so-subtly stealing glances at Geet.

Admiring.
Curious.
A few of them murmuring to each other, their eyes tracking her movements.

Maan didn’t like it.

Not one bit.

And without a word—

He moved.

Stepped forward.

Placing himself directly in front of her.

Blocking their view.

Not looking at them.
Not acknowledging them.

Just standing there.

Like an unspoken claim.

Like a barrier that would not be crossed.

Geet, still catching her breath, finally straightened, only to find herself staring at the back of Maan’s shoulder.

Her amusement flickered into mild confusion.

She shifted slightly, attempting to peer around him, only to find her view entirely obstructed.

It took her exactly two seconds to realize what had happened.

And when she did—

She exhaled through her nose, shaking her head slightly.

Of course.

Of course he would.

But she didn’t call him out on it.

Didn’t say anything.

Didn’t tease.

She just let it happen.

Because Maan had done it instinctively.

Without hesitation.

Without thought.

And that?

That said more than anything else ever could.

+++++

The music was infectious.

The dhols thumped in an unrelenting, rhythmic beat, the kind that vibrated through the air, through the ground, through the bones of everyone standing there.

The kind of music that didn’t ask permission—it simply took over.

And Geet—

Let it.

She wasn’t dancing, not exactly.

But she was vibing.

Her fingers tapped lightly against the fabric of her dress, in time with the beat.

Her head tilted ever so slightly, her body naturally moving with the undeniable pull of celebration.

Her lips curled into a small, unthinking smile as she took in the sheer joy around her—

The men in sherwanis, drenched in enthusiasm and sweat, spinning and clapping to the beat.
The women in embroidered lehengas, their bangles jingling as they swayed, laughing, lost in the festivity.
The groom, completely oblivious to the chaos he had caused, nodding along like a king surveying his kingdom.

There was something pure about it.

Unapologetic. Loud. Messy. Real.

And for the first time that night, Geet let herself just exist in it.

The music was everywhere.

Loud. Unapologetic. Alive.

The wedding baraat had consumed the entire hotel entrance, the sound of dhols pounding through the night air, the energy thick with celebration.

And Geet—

She let it pull her in.

Not intentionally. Not to make a statement.

But because the music demanded it.

Her fingers tapped against her dress, her head moving slightly to the beat, her body shifting with the rhythm before she even realized it.

It wasn’t dancing, not really—just letting the moment seep into her, letting the chaos of the night melt away into something simpler, something lighter.

And that’s when it happened.

A few of the young men in the baraat took notice.

Smiling. Approaching.

Their movements were friendly, playful, dancing toward her like it was an unspoken invitation.

A harmless gesture, in their eyes.

But Maan saw it happen in real time.

The shift.

The way they were moving too close, too eager, misreading Geet’s ease for something else.

His body reacted before his mind did.

He stepped forward, placing himself directly between them and her.

A silent block.

A message.

The men faltered, exchanging confused glances.

It could have turned confrontational.

But Maan—Maan was faster.

Instead of letting the moment hang awkwardly, instead of making it feel like a scene—

He did the only thing he could think of.

He pretended to dance.

A slight shift of his shoulders. A subtle movement of his hands.

Nothing over the top. Nothing he couldn’t control.

But enough.

Enough to make it look natural.

And Geet—

Geet turned, saw him, and immediately understood.

Her laughter was instantaneous.

Loud. Free. Unrestrained.

Because Maan Singh Khurana—stoic, composed, impossible-to-move Maan—was pretending to dance.

And then—

It stopped being pretend.

Because Geet moved.

And Maan mirrored.

She spun—and he followed.
She stomped to the beat—and he copied.
She threw her hands up, laughing—and somehow, so did he.

And suddenly, it wasn’t just pretend anymore.

It was real.

Full baraati-style dancing, right in the middle of the street.

Geet, carefree and lost in the moment.

Maan, somehow following her lead.

He didn’t know how it happened.

Didn’t know why.

Didn’t care.

For the first time in a very, very long time—he wasn’t thinking.

Not about the gala.
Not about the night.
Not about the way Geet had been picking apart his silences all evening.

He was just there. With her. In this ridiculous, chaotic moment.

Geet clapped her hands in rhythm, laughing uncontrollably.

Maan mimicked her—mocking it, exaggerating it, but still doing it.

She pointed at him. "You're actually doing this!"

Maan huffed, adjusting his sleeves mid-dance. "You dragged me into this."

Geet, breathless, grinned. "Yeah, but you're keeping up!"

He was.

And that realization?

It felt dangerous.

Because it was easy.

Too easy.

And nothing between them had ever been easy.

But in this moment—under the golden glow of hotel lights, surrounded by strangers, with music too loud to think—

It was.

For now.

That was extremely fabulous Neelu ☺️

Just loved it 🤗

Well done 👍 Geet ... I really enjoyed the entire scenario of gala ... They had a good time pulling legs but food was extremely pathetic 🤮 & Maan realised that seeing Geet reaction.

I really appreciate that Maan took notice of her small things as she was not familiar with the arrangements & then Geet realised the way Maan was noticing & comforting her in this entire fuss

Finally they stepped out of the gala & joined the barat or can say got trapped in barat passing by & the contagious energy made both of them dance freely 😄 it is said it's simple to be happy but it's difficult to be simple .. & that effortless moment made both of them dance freely without any hitch

Waiting for more

Thanks for the PM ☺️

Keep writing ✍️

Part 13

Vibrant and Fun Filled Update

I really liked that Maan noticed everything about Geet

and when she yawned, he decides they should leave

but only to get stuck in a Baraat

first Maan's possessiveness overtakes him, and he stands before Geet

so, the men cannot look at her

and 2nd time again he comes to her but this slightly moving to indicate he is

dancing with her

until Maan himself let go and truly started dancing with Geet

13

enjoyed reading

both have their own fun in gala

geet found how maan notice her every move very time

maan left gala for geet who sleepy n boar

maan follow geet's lead in barat at entrance of hotel

both are understanding each other without words

Hi thanks for the update

Part 13

Geet's thoughts were reasonable

great that she got food for Maan

of cos Geet did not like the food

Maan clearly knew this

his comment was anticipated

so she realised why drinks

as expected Maan understood she was bored

and he left

she was indeed confused

she was amazed that Maan always noticed

enjoyed their banter

pleased that Maan was conversing with Geet

he is witty!

not surprised seeing Maan's protectiveness

so she saw this and did not say anything

initially Maan pretended to dance as he was protecting Geet

but then really danced with Geet

Geet's reaction was justified

it was a beautiful moment

update soon

How possessive maan is for geet and with geet he comes out of his best maan singh khurana dancing in baraat omg 😍😍 that' what happens when u are in love

Its so casual conversation 🤪

Fun loving

Guessing the things 😀 or can say thought

Good part