Again- for ADULTS ONLY as it contains adult language and sexual/intimate situations etc so please dont continue reading if these things bother you :)
PART TWO
She shifted her face away from the hard floor, the chill emptying into her bones more from his hatred than the cold tiles. She couldn't remember the last time he had looked at her with warmth, never mind with love and affection; those seemed to just be memories she found herself grasping onto like precious air. Even before all of this... even when he would get broody and angry she couldn't help but feel inexplicably turned on and amused. Her love for him would keep her from taking him too seriously as his gorgeous dark eyes glowered at her in frustration; his handsome and rugged face hardening in his natural masculinity. But that was before... when she knew that even in his anger he loved her, wanted her. Now his hate filled eyes cut through her worse than the sharpest knife, as if it were laced with poison and death. What was she doing here? Why was she trying anymore? She heard her own desperate sob leave her throat before hiding it away lest she wake dadi. How many times had she looked at him longingly, desperate for just a glance her way, just the smallest softening of his deep brown eyes the way he used to? But it never came; her only relief if she could call it that was the chill in his glare. Even then, god damn her, she couldn't look away... she couldn't hate him, not truly. She might have said it in anger but wasn't that just the other side of her love for him? She had heard that one couldn't hate deeply without loving deeply too, without caring so much that your heart shattered into splinters. She held onto that saying, using it as her reason to hope that his sheer hate of her only indicated his deep love for her even if he refused to acknowledge it in his anger. She knew what she looked like; desperate, weak and stupid. She knew. But what was she supposed to do? Dadi had wronged her, used her against herself in the most cruel way and in the process she had lost the only man she loved. It wasn't that she wasn't angry with him, oh she was... not for the first time did she ask herself why the hell she was trying for a man who so obviously loathed her. Why doesn't he want me? Why wont he fight for me? She swallowed back the bitter ache in her throat, her hot tears falling unimpeded onto the flat pillow beneath her head. Even as she thought the painful thoughts, she was sure the twisting pain in her cavernous chest where her heart should be would eventually just kill her. Am I so insignificant to him? Can't he see how much I need him? She felt like a heartbroken fool... she felt like a mockery of herself. Even when she had walked back into Shanti Sadan looking like Shanti Devi herself, she couldn't believe what she had been doing. She had felt stupid, desperate... but one look at Shivam and the face she missed like an ache in her soul had propelled her onwards with her plan. If she could call it a plan... she hadn't achieved anything but making more of a fool of herself in all truth. These days she felt like she was on a knife's edge, always just a hair's breadth away from packing up what little she had and walking out for good. But call it a woman's intuition, call it insanity for all she cared... one look at him and the knowledge of Shanti's truth would be enough to convince her to stay one more day and then another and another. Something wasn't right... even as he looked at her with disgust in his eyes... she couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't the whole picture she was seeing. She must be completely insane to believe that, but until she was sure in her heart beyond a shadow of a doubt that he truly loathed her she would keep trying. Even if it cost her her dignity, for that was what was happening wasn't it? For the first time in her life she was glad that her mother was not here to witness her state, it would have broken her. But then maybe... just maybe she would have never even met Shivam if her mother had lived... maybe she would have been set on a different path. It didn't matter in the end... it was what it was and she would do what she could until she simply couldn't anymore. And if her heart irrevocably broke in the process then so be it; he was the love of her life and from the moment she had set her eyes on him, his cute smile and sexy mussed up hair there had been no going back. Yes... she had been physically attracted to him at first; who wouldn't have been? But then as time went on and she watched him from the shadows of her own heart, she wanted more, to know more. He had been so quiet... keeping to himself, helpful, conscientious in his job; occasionally she would spot his athletic form playing football with the younger kids in an abandoned courtyard and her heart would clench imagining him with children of his own one day. Maybe even their children. She would never be able to pinpoint exactly when she had fallen for him; it had been so gradual and subtle but God, when it did happen it hit her out of nowhere. During the too short hours of the weekdays she would find her every sense aligned in his direction at work, as if he was a magnet and even from her small work desk at the other end of the room to him she could practically feel the heat in her cheeks all day long. She hadn't been able to stop staring, she had been sure Bunty would have alerted the police for stalking if she hadn't been such a good friend! And then at night... at night she seemed to become feverish... it was so wrong to think of him in that way but she was only human. She was sure that most women had thoughts like that, even if they would be loathe to admit it. How could she not think of his broad shoulders? Or the way his straight hair fell so sexily over his eyes as he focussed so intently on his computer screen. She hadn't been able to help thinking about his big hands, strong and clean... and if she had imagined those warm hands sliding over her bare skin, caressing her lips as his chestnut brown eyes bore into her own then so what? She was a woman, not some silly little girl who shied away... at least not from her fervent imagination in the secret hours of the night. Even if he hadn't noticed her, she was a woman of the world... she wanted him to know she existed, that she cared for him. It didn't escape her how he seemed to keep himself away from all women and not just her and she had wondered about it so many times. It was surely strange for a man who looked as good as him not to be tempted by the women who must have thrown themselves in his way; but she had cast the thought aside quickly, only thanking her lucky stars that he wasn't that kind of man. And so she and Bunty had come up with all sorts of ridiculous plans to help them bump into each other, to get her on his radar. Well, as stupid and juvenile as it had been by some miracle it had worked. He noticed her; he especially noticed her the evening she had found him angrily kicking the ball about in the rain. Her heart had pounded so hard upon seeing him that she was sure it would escape out of her throat; a cacophony of love and lust had infused her upon seeing him. His entire body was drenched, clothes plastered to every plane of defined muscle and the spikes of his black hair dripping seductively over the angry frown on his face as he breathed heavily. She could practically feel the intense emotion roiling off of him even from her vantage point and like a string being pulled from her centre she had found herself moving towards him, needing to touch him just once. She could never forget that night, staring up at him as he practically towered over her with that angry scowl she loved so much. God... she had so wanted to kiss him, she had needed to... but she had controlled herself, biting down on her tongue before she did something completely stupid. Instead she found her hand moving of its own accord, needing with everything in her to just touch him just once. She had no choice but to tell him; it was turning her insides into a melted pot of need and love not being able to express her true feelings. The tingles running up her sensitive fingers and straight into her heart and lower belly at the feel of his stubble had nearly undone her, but she revelled in the feel of him watching his angry scowl morph into something soft and tender even if they were laced with some surprise at her forwardness. She hadn't known anything else, never mind feeling the rain soaking her to her bones... she had been drowning in those eyes of his, like he was a mug of hot chocolate wrapping around her and keeping her blood heated from the outside in. The rain hadn't even registered. When she had uttered those three words to him she had been sure she heard him gasp, even through the smattering of the rain on the concrete beneath their feet. It had felt like her heart was floating between them waiting for his invitation into his own heart, but she hadn't pushed him needing only at that time for him to know how she felt.
The memory of that night was almost undoing her as she lay curled in on herself on the hard mat, her small fingers clenched into fists in the hopes that it would stem the tears some more. It was only after she came to see the truth of his family and their overly traditional ways that she understood why she had never really seen Shivam flirt with any women before she had made her feelings known. He had told her that day in the restaurant, her hands curled around his in her need to be close to him... hadn't he warned her of his family? Even going so far as to state that marriage to any woman wasn't in his destiny... at least not with a family such as his. She had shrugged it off then, believing that he was exaggerating and knowing with all her heart that if he just loved her then she could be anything he needed her to be for his family. Surely it couldn't have been that hard? She huffed in bitter silence as she remembered her naivety... but still... she wouldn't have changed her mind knowing what she knew now. This was Shivam... she couldn't imagine a life without him, not now when she had so completely fallen in love with him. She would give everything she had left and if still he didn't want her then she would have no choice but to move out of his world... to live a life of unrequited love and hollowness. But for now, even if she were grasping at straws at least she knew Shanti's truth and even if he didn't want her she would get the truth out before leaving this place... if it came to that.
She bit her lip in the darkness, unable to stop thinking about the way he had put his hands on her if only to throw her into the other room and lock the door. She knew that if she had seen another woman being treated in such a manner she would have spoken up, she would have stood up for her and yet... when it was she who was being treated as such she couldn't help but think of his hands on her. It had been so long since he had touched her, even if he had been a little rough with her she welcomed it. And with that thought she knew she had really lost her damned mind... what was becoming of her? Why was she doing this to herself?! She bit her lip harder, only able to think of the feel of his warm and slightly calloused hands over her skin as she tried to stop the tears from flowing harder. Her shoulders shook silently in her agony, the humiliation of being so desperately in love with him that she allowed these people to abuse and insult her, that she allowed him to batter her heart. She hated what she had become and yet she was helpless... fallible and broken and too in love to walk away. I love you Shivam... w-why can't you see it? I m-miss you... She broke down then giving up on biting her lip as she let the almost silent sobs seep into the floor beneath her.
After almost half an hour of torturing herself with these thoughts, she stared numbly into the darkness ahead, her view resting on the seat of dadi's swing before she tore her eyes away from it in hatred of what it represented. She was so tired, her heart and soul so weary after the unending taunts and insult to her character. And now not only had she been the recipient of Shanti's evil plans but so had her own Papaji. She clenched her fist until it hurt, not for the first time remembering how she had spoken to her own father infront of Shivam's entire family when all he had wanted to do was protect her. The guilt ripped through her even as she knew the alternative would have been to let Shivam get jailed. She couldn't have done it... her father had meant well and she so loved him for it... but to let the man she loved be jailed for something like that? No... she couldn't have done it. Yes he had locked her in that room, his anger making him lose his common sense but she had not been in there ten minutes when her father had found her inside... she had hardly been suffering for it. No... it wasn't the stupid locked room that had brought the tears to her eyes as her chest imploded... it was watching Shanti and Sarla force Chanda to sit next to Shivam, to take pictures of them like they were some happy family. The hypocrites! She hadn't been able to bear it, knowing exactly what those two women had planned for her husband... even if she suspected that he sometimes seemed to know what was going on. But still... he never really put her fears to rest the way she needed him to, only moving away when that strange girl sat next to him. How she wished that he would tell his family clearly that he was still married to her, that if nothing else he would not ever be interested in Chanda. But it was just a wish... at this point she didn't know what the hell to think anymore. Afterall, didn't she find Chanda in their bedroom offering him tea even as he dressed himself? What kind of a woman would walk in on a married man still dressing himself? Even if bua-ji had begged Chanda to take tea into his room, a decent woman would never have agreed surely? Something felt off about her... but she couldn't think what and honestly she was too exhausted to care right now. When she had heard Shivam firmly ask her to leave and told her that from then on he would help himself to tea she hadn't anticipated the tears of relief that had washed over her face. The feeling had so overwhelmed her that she had almost convinced herself to believe that he loved her still, and yet that temporary hope had been almost immediately annihilated when he simply looked her with scorn and loathing yet again. He might not have wanted Chanda but he certainly didn't want her either.
I am sorry Papaji... please forgive me... please understand why I did what I did... I couldn't let him go to prison... She prayed silently to the Gods and to her father, wishing somehow that he didn't take it to heart even though she suspected she had hurt him deeply. She wished that he understood his daughter better than she could hope, that he knew she hadn't meant it the way it came out. She had been so panicked, the police officer taking his cuffs out right before her eyes that she had blurted out the first thing she could think of to make them back off. She didn't deserve a father like him... not after seeing what kind of father her other papaji was to his three children. But she was a woman madly in love, so madly in love that she had become blind with it only knowing that she didn't want the man she loved to go to jail. He had moved to hit her once upon a time, the action jolting her with pain through her heart like crisp lightening. But even then... even before his hand had connected with her skin she had seen the unmistakeable horror in his eyes. Horror at himself... disgust at himself for frightening her, for even thinking to do such a thing. She hadn't been able to shake the feeling that it had been an act... that he had done it to push her away yet again. But maybe she had just been desperate to alleviate him of such a sin, maybe he really had intended to hurt her... he had surely been angry enough. However... that look in his eyes; the pain that infused them would not allow her to truly believe it. Maybe she was being naive and thinking with her heart instead of her head... but she didn't truly believe he would intentionally hurt her... at least not physically. And so to have him jailed for locking her in a room that she could have so easily have escaped from had not been an option, not in a hundred years. He might have had a temper but he would never harm her, of that she was sure.
She felt the harsh twist in her stomach then, forcing her to curl further in on herself as the sharp pain started winding through her gut. Even though mummyji had given her enough time to cook her dinner, she had barely been able to swallow the food without wanting to throw up. She was sure she had lost weight from the number of meals she had skipped and not for the first time did she feel the bitter sting in her heart that Shivam hadn't seemed to care one way or the other. She wouldn't be able to go through the night like this; the clock on the wall told her it was only just past two in the morning as she heard the quiet chirrup of crickets in the otherwise silent background. Maybe she didn't have an appetite but her body obviously had other ideas. I should just drink some water and go to sleep... if I don't wake up early then I'll have to wait all morning to use the washroom, she thought morosely feeling like her eyelids were weighed with lead even if she couldn't sleep. Riya fumbled around in the dark, the large veil of her ridiculously billowing sari catching around her arms; in her irritation she pulled it free before checking her surroundings and when she was sure that she was alone she pulled it down and tucked it into her waist. It felt good to be free of the extra layers of material for a change; she missed the simple pleasure of sleeping in lighter clothes but since she had been forced to sleep in the open she had had little option but to live and sleep in the same stupid saris. She hated them. At least no one would see her with her uncovered blouse at this time of the night, she mused to herself before finally pulling herself up onto her feet. Her eyes had well adjusted to the almost pitch blackness by now and so she decided to forego the small candle by her side; she walked softly and barefoot towards the kitchen before gently lifting the latch and letting herself in.
The sharp resonant sound of glass shattering on the floor sounded more like an earthquake in the dead of the night. In her panic she bent down too quickly when she lost her balance and dropped her hand to the floor; she hissed in at the sudden hot pain searing through the sensitive flesh of her palm as a piece of glass no doubt broke into her skin. The unwelcome tears sprung out of her eyes even as she stared intently at the door, now convinced that the entire household would wake up and surround her yet again in their taunts. Still crouched behind the counter she held her wounded hand in the other, not knowing how the hell she was going to dress the cut properly at this hour without attracting attention to herself. She would just have to wrap it in a piece of cloth and make do until the morning. It hurt... she was afraid to think how deep the cut actually was and still she had yet to clean up her mess well enough that it didn't injure anyone else on the morrow. After she tied the makeshift knot around her hand she patted the floor gently as she looked for the larger pieces of glass when she heard the movement above her. Riya's blood froze even as her own movements did; not willing to look up she only saw a pair of feet clothed in sandals... feet she knew all too well. Oh God... why did it have to be him? She beseeched silently knowing that he would be enraged with her yet again. She wasn't surprised when she looked up to him, his face half lit by the dim moonlight now shining through the window as the clouds broke. He looked fearsome and maybe a touch more tired than angry at what or whom he had found. "I-Im sorry...I-" she had begun to explain herself, her voice sounding weak even to her own ears as the pain increased in her hand; after her heavy crying session she really didn't have the energy to listen to his hatred. She would surely break in two. She had instinctively covered her chest having not known who had interrupted her night-time blunder and even now as she shivered in the cold she couldn't help but notice his own eyes glide over her state of attire, her veil still tucked snugly into her waist. Her skin tingled involuntarily at his unusual attention to her... or at least to her body; she felt exposed to him and yet that was precisely what was making her heart race. He had interrupted her in his gruff if quiet voice, the sound of him carrying no further than the interior of the kitchen. "What are you doing here? It's the middle of the night and you're wandering around like a ghost. Go back to sleep Riya before you wake the whole house and start your drama again" His last words bit into her as if he had slapped her. She bit down on her tongue and dropped her hands to her thighs still crouched on the floor, "Stand back Shivam... there is glass all over the floor. Go back to bed... I'll clean it up before everyone wakes, I promise..." She didn't have the inclination to argue with him and already looking back down as she searched for the remaining pieces of glass. Within seconds she heard the crunch of glass beneath his feet as he moved quickly towards her, his hand wrapped tightly around her upper arm before hurling her back up to his level. The air blew out of her lungs at the sudden contact as she lost her balance and fell into his hard chest only clothed in a thin linen shirt. Before she had the chance to revel in the feel of him he manhandled her yet again almost flinching at the feel of her against him before yanking her back just inches away from his heat. "You're picking up broken glass in the dark? Tell me Riya, are you completely stupid or do you just like being shouted at?" he scathed at her as his now black eyes bore down into her own. She felt his fingers flinch around the soft skin of her arm as he held her firmly, the single tear now dropping onto her cheek. She hadn't wanted him to see how his harsh words had affected her but she had been feeling particularly vulnerable this night and it hadn't taken much to break through her barriers. Why did he have to be so cruel all the time? It was like he was going out of his way to shred her heart into pieces. Without warning he wrapped his other hand around her wounded one "And what is this on y-". "Ah! Ow! Sh-shivam please..." his eyes widened in momentary panic as she let out a strangled and pained hiss into his chest even as she tried to pull away from his vice like grip. Not a second passed by when he released her as if he had touched hot coals. "What the hell? Why are you in pain?!" he had almost shouted the words out, his eyes searching hers frantically before he hid his concern away a little too late. She yanked her hand back down, wishing he would just go away and let her be, "Riya show me your hand. Now" he bit out in repressed rage obviously expecting her to just follow his orders like she was his puppy. Well she had had enough, at least for tonight. "Why do you care? Just go, I will see to it myself..." her words trembled towards the end as his eyes darkened even more as unbelievable as it was. She felt his heat engulf her as he moved further into her space, if he had moved just a few millimetres closer the tips of her breasts would have brushed against the fabric of his t-shirt. He glowered down at her and wrapped his hand more gently around her wrist as he lifted her arm up slightly, "Do you think this is a game? If you have glass in your hand you could bleed out. It could get infected. You're not a child that I have to explain this to you... I may want you out of this house Riya but I don't have time to wipe up your blood. Now. Show. Me. Your. Hand" he ground the last words out just before his eyes roamed over her face; she was sure she saw a hint of tenderness there but all she could focus on were his arctic words. She closed her eyes for a moment, unable to do anything but breathe in his spicy and masculine scent and his warm breath over her face as she felt the erratic beat of her heart in the pulse of her open wound. Maybe he was right... maybe she needed to dress it before it got any worse. "Here... I wrapped it in a dish cloth so it-" As she spoke he took her injured hand in his, almost touching her with reverence as he unwound the rough piece of cloth; she had stopped midsentence when he had gasped out at the wound infront of him just barely masking the pain away on his face. He swept a hand through his hair, the familiar nervous gesture so obvious to her; even as he spoke he shook his head in incredulity at her, "You really are the most stupid woman, do you know that? There's still glass in your hand!" he half hissed and half whispered the last words out in repressed frustration; how he could see so well in the dark she didn't know, but going by the increasing pain shooting up her arm she believed him. Come on... I need to pick it out before it gets any deeper" he looked at her like she was mentally retarded obviously waiting for her to follow him out of the kitchen. "But Shivam... the floor... the glass is everywhere..." she was sure if he clenched his jaw anymore he would have broken something, "Riya shut up. Shut up and follow me" he bit out again having moved a foot away from her and facing the door as he twisted back to her. She spoke in a stutter "I- I can't...I-" he almost blew up then, just barely keeping his voice in check as he rushed the short distance back to her, "Don't you understand Hindi? Move!" Riya couldn't help but let the tears flow in her embarrassment; he was treating her like a stupid child, not letting her get a word in edgewise. "Shivam I can't move! My feet are bare..." she swallowed the pain back again, involuntarily wrapping her arms around her bare waist in the cold. She followed his gaze down her body when it settled at her bare feet before slowly caressing his eyes back up her body again and to her face leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin as if he had touched her instead of just looked. "Why are you uncovered like this?" he said before shaking his head and rushing on, "Forget it. Its none of my business..." Riya swallowed the saliva pooled in her mouth; had she just imagined the way he had looked at her? With desire in his eyes? Surely not... she was sure she must have been imagining it even as the blush of heat crept from her chest and into her cheeks. She was glad it was dark enough that he wouldn't have been able to see the colour in her face. Without a word of caution he bent down to her waist and slid his hands under her upper thighs, her body falling into his chest and in the hard muscles of his arms as his other arm wrapped around her lower back. Nothing on earth could have stopped the slight whimper from leaving her mouth at the sudden and infinitely pleasurable onslaught of his heat and scent and touch permeating through every inch of her body. As if he had struck her with lightening as the feel of him after so long fired up every single nerve ending in her body. She was sure she was trembling and was sure it wasn't from the cold anymore. "Don't get excited... this wont happen again" she felt more than heard the vibration of his deep and hard voice traverse from his chest and into hers, curling all the way down to her lower belly and into her toes. She had to fight the insane urge to snuggle her head into his hot chest and breathe him in. Riya had fully expected him to set her down the moment they had left the kitchen, except to her surprise and increasing heart rate he had kept her in his arms as she realised they were now headed up the stairs. "Be quiet... if they find me with you... well, I'm sure I don't have to spell it out..." he looked down at her briefly, her loose straight hair pooling against the bulge of his arm; he seemed to be gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw even harder than before when he looked back up again.
*
What am I doing? He swallowed for the hundredth time, banishing the incredible feel of her in his arms. God... he was sure she had lost weight, she was lighter; even at the thought of it the muscles in his arms had flinched and he had automatically held her closer into his embrace before loosening his grip on her all too quickly. He had found his stupid, beautiful woman floundering around in the dark feeling for shards of glass... of all the stupid, ridiculous things she had done he was sure this won the prize. Well... she wasn't his anymore, he had damn well made sure of that hadn't he? His heart had nearly stopped when he felt her flinch away from his touch, her hand wrapped inexpertly in a filthy piece of cloth she had found lying around and in those moments all he had wanted...needed...to do was gather her up in his arms. Instead he had snapped out at her in anger and blistering fury as if she had asked to get hurt. It seemed to be second nature to him to scald her with his words and with that came the nausea of what he had become. However, no matter how much he had been trying to drive her away there was no way in hell that he was going to leave her there, bleeding and in pain and surrounded by more shards of glass. He hadn't planned on lifting her into his arms; he hadn't planned on looking at her uncovered body like a man starved of oxygen either but his eyes had nevertheless seemed unable to tear themselves away from her. She was beautiful... gorgeous... the loveliest woman he had ever set eyes on in his life even in her bedraggled state and once upon a time she had been his. Now he could only look at her from a distance, like a lecher in the shadows; he had had his chance and he blew it. It had been so long since he had seen her with so little on; the thin blouse over the gentle swell of her breasts had done nothing to cover her modesty and for a moment he felt the possessive need to yank off his own t-shirt and shove it over her head or shove his body into hers and against the counter. What the hell was she thinking walking around like that in the night?! Anyone could have found her. Granted, it was an unpleasantly hot night and even he had been tossing and turning in the incessant heat... but still... she should have covered herself. No one but him should ever see her like that. Just as soon as the possessive thought entered his frazzled brain, he banished it. He couldn't afford to think of her like that; she could do whatever she wanted. He clenched his jaw again wishing he could just cast all feeling for her to the wind, wishing he could stop wanting her and thinking about her softness and sweetness in the lonely hours of the night. If he could just stop loving her this would be so much simpler. But he couldn't; he didn't think anything could make him stop loving her and in all honestly he accepted that it was his cross to bear. He deserved it; he deserved everything after the way he had hurt her... even now as he carried her to the bedroom he was being cold and unfeeling at least with his words. As he had told her to not get excited he had felt the hammering of her heart beating against his own chest, that beautiful and precious organ seeking him out even as he hurled insult after insult at her. How he wanted to hold her closer, press her softness into his harder chest and feel her squirm for more in his arms.
The short walk up the staircase had seemed to take an eternity as he struggled not to caress the tips of his fingers over her bare skin. Once safely inside his bedroom, he closed and locked the door before closing the curtains and lighting the dimmest lamp on the farthest side of the room lest he attract attention. "Stay here... I'll clean you up and then you can leave..." he ground out again as he sat her on the edge of the bed...on her side of the bed. She looked exhausted in the soft light; God knew she needed a good nights rest in a warm and soft bed... preferably next to him and in his arms and wrapped around him. But it was just a fantasy... if he showed her any compassion, any of the weakness in his heart she would only fight harder to stay in this hell trap. No... no matter how much he wanted her to sleep in their bed he wouldn't cave in, he would grit his teeth and bear the suffering with her as his own heart ate itself away in its guilt.
Once he had gathered the small bowl of water, tweezers and the cotton and antiseptic he walked confidently up to her before kneeling on the floor to her left, by her wounded hand. "Shivam... please sit on the bed" her sad eyes searched his own as he purposefully hardened his gaze and ignored her request. "Give me your hand Riya. This will sting, so hold still..." he faltered a moment before he continued, unsure of his next words; he sighed out quietly, "...and if it hurts too much, squeeze my arm as hard as you want... it will help..." He swallowed the lump in his throat as he found the tears pooling becomingly in her eyes; even when she cried she looked beautiful as the salty drops of her tears glistened like jewels on her pretty skin. She quickly swiped the back of her right hand over her eyes before the tears even had a chance to grace her cheeks, nodding once at him before looking away and back again into his eyes. Shivam couldn't look at her like this; he looked away, determined to stay focussed on what he had brought her up here to do. His hand trembled slightly as he moved to pick the two shards of glass from her open palm; when the second smaller piece had proved more difficult to remove he had felt her other hand squeeze hard over his shoulder after she had shot her arm out with the pain and gasping out as quietly as she could. He had stopped immediately, looking to the slight contortion on her pained face before waiting for her to get her composure back. "I'm sorry Sh-shivam..." was all she said when he shook his head from side to side. He felt ill with himself; he had berated her so much that now she was apologising even for this. "You don't have to apologise for being in pain Riya... just hold on.. I'll get it out this time" She nodded her head and hissed as he bit the bullet and finally pulled out the remaining piece of glass; her hand was already swollen and pink around the wound itself so he gently dabbed it with the antiseptic before wrapping the gauze around her palm. He could feel her eyes on his face the entire time, even if he refused to look up at her; he was so close to breaking his resolve, so close to gathering her up in his arms and begging her forgiveness. It had been so damned long since he had touched her that having held her in his arms had been akin to drinking water after months in the desert. He had been parched for her.
He saw the soft movement from his peripheral vision then; when he looked up with the remnants of gauze still clasped in his hand he saw that she was crying softly. So softly that she hadnt uttered a sound; her shoulders gently heaving and her eyes closed tightly away from him. She was broken. He had done this to her... why wouldn't she go? How could a woman love him so much that she would live through this? If he had been able to, he was sure he would have felt his heart tear into pieces... because he could damn well feel it as the shards lacerated his insides. Before he could stop himself, before his brain took over his heart he had lifted himself to her face; his knees still on the floor as he knelt further into her. He swallowed the lump of self-loathing and hurt in his throat yet again and without so much as a word he placed his arms to either side of her hips on the bedsheets. He was so close that he could feel the soft puffs of her breath caressing over his lips and his face; still her eyes had remained closed. "Riya..." he could only whisper her name, not trusting his voice not to crack and break with the weight of his own pain; when she opened her eyes she hadn't flinched away or tried to look away. She looked at him without censure, without hiding away the pain in her heart. Without even realising what he was doing, he moved his face yet closer to hers. He heard her whimper and sigh softly as his lips just barely brushed over hers, his own breath coming out with only a sliver of control left in him. He didn't move away from the blissful contact and neither had she; he closed his eyes, breathing her essence in and so desperate for more of her that he was sure he was clawing out of his own skin. When he finally opened his eyes again he was faced with the deepest mahogany pools of the purest and deepest love that he could have only imagined, her sadness the only reminder of his actions towards her. His lips tingled with the need to press deeper into her mouth, to taste her, to own her. He couldn't help it; he didn't want to help it. As if in a dream, he lifted his right arm until his palm and fingers brushed softly against the silkiness of her cheek and jaw, caressing her as though she was as fragile as spun glass and the illusion could shatter at any moment. He swallowed again, searching her eyes before she closed them again... as though she were ingraining his every touch to her memory. Their breath had become one even as she leaned into his open palm, their lips still touching and his eyes still caressing over her every feature. His breathing hitched almost out of control as he moved further into her, the lust and sheer force of love in his veins taking over all common sense. Shivam parted his own lips, ever so slowly taking her pretty and plump lower lip in between his own as he fought the urge to go deeper. God... she tasted so sweet... like summer and flowers and honey. He breathed her in even as she whimpered into him, spurring him on to continue even as she twisted her small hands in her lap. Still he kept his hands to her side, not touching her anywhere but with his lips... it was driving him crazy. He took her lip deeper into his own mouth, softly sucking and nibbling gently until his damned teeth and throat and chest ached for the want of more. "Shivam..." she whispered out his name breathily, his own mouth eating up the sound of her voice as he continued to play softly with her bottom lip... all sense of reality having left him in the dead of night and immersed in her warmth. He fisted the bedsheet in his hand, resolving even in his needful haze to not touch her with his hands. If he touched her he wouldn't stop... there would be no stopping. Not with the sheer amount of pent up need and love and longing coursing through his veins for her; she was his wife... his. His breathing deepened until he heard his own barely perceptible moan, loving the lush scent of her as she softly keened into him. It was then, as his tongue flicked out to caress over her now swollen lip that he saw the landing outside of their room flood with light. Shit!
He moved back from her so swiftly that he felt the sting in his neck and shoulders, the shock of potentially being caught jarring him back to his senses. What the hell was he thinking?! He looked away from her, bunching his fists through his hair and yanking so hard that it hurt before dropping his hands. He twisted back round to her and crouched low again, not missing the lust-filled haze on her face morph into hurt and sadness once again. He was shutting her out again and she knew it. "You have to leave... you can't be here. This was a mistake. A big mistake. Please... just go..." he shook his head from side to side, purposefully ignoring her tears as they scorned him for his behaviour; for taking advantage of her. What the hell was wrong with him! "Riya... please just go. I will clean up the kitchen... come on, we don't have time..." He waited for the light to go off again before reaching for her to follow him, however, just as his skin brushed over hers she yanked her arm back from him as though she had been scalded by acid. He couldn't have missed the hurt and anger in her eyes if had been a blind man. "Get off me Shivam... just l-leave me alone. I can go by myself..." her voice trembled violently with barely repressed anger and unending heart break, the mixture of corrosive emotions displayed on every beautiful plane of her face and there was nothing he could say or do about it. He had kissed her, only just taking in her lower lip into his mouth... and God, he had loved every second and every moment in between those seconds and yet even after that he had shunned her away. He wished she would just plunge a knife straight into his heart and put him out of his misery once and for all. The months of pent up and unexpressed love and lust for the woman he loved had finally come to a head and when he thought he surely couldn't hurt her any more he had proven to himself just how much more of a bas***d he could be.
Riya ran down the stairs, the soft patter of her flying feet barely making a sound against the bare tiles beneath her soles. Why didn't he just kick her in the chest?! Why didn't he just take a knife and shove it into her heart over and over until it stop beating?! I hate you! I HATE you Shivam Srivastav! She swallowed back the tears pouring down her face and lacerating through her heart, her lower lip sensitive and plump from his kisses only serving to tear a hole through her splattered heart. She was so utterly humiliated... for a blissful few moments she had truly believed that he had come to his senses, that he wanted her back. How stupid she had been! How naive and stupid! Riya ran to the pathetic heap of crushed blankets and the mat that was her bed, she wrapped herself in the thin material and shoved her face into the pillow. It would be hours that she sobbed the wracking tears out of her wretched and splintered heart and when sleep had finally come out of her sheer exhaustion, she hadn't noticed Shivam cleaning up the mess she had made in the twilight hours just before dawn. Neither had she noticed his own tears marred over his face, the back of his large hands swiping angrily at his self-loathing for what he had done as he cut himself on the last piece of glass he picked up from the kitchen floor.
***
Please refer to "Part Three A" for continuation if you enjoyed this :)
So Ive decided that because I write such alot and it takes sooo long to write that if for whatever reason I dont get more feedback then I'll quit while Im ahead 😳 which I definitely dont mind because Im really enjoying princesssheena's FF anyway. But writing so much wouldnt be worth it for just one or two readers. But thank you very much to those who have read and commented, much appreciated :) It is so much fun, I would definitely encourage more people in the forum to write their own FF. I would much rather read others' work than watch the show as it is! 😊
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
