This was a dream, she concluded. This was a strange distortion of the BSD-related nightmares that had plagued her for so many years. Her fevered imagination and broken heart had conspired to create this vision that was both frightening and bittersweet.
What hurt the most was how real it felt. She could feel the strength latent in the arm around her waist, the warmth emanating from the body she was held so intimately against, the harsh breaths he drew. The musky scent of him made her feel light-headed. She stood still, terrified of shattering the illusion, and hypnotized by the unfathomable depths of his gaze.
And then, despite her silently willing him with all her might to never let go, he shoved her away and ran a shaking hand through his hair.
"Get away from me, Parvati. I'm not going to play along with your sick games. You claim to want to be my wife, when my slightest touch repulses you? Freezes you in fear?"
His voice held the deepest loathing.
Was it directed at her? Had he meant what he'd said earlier? Did he mean what he was saying right now?
Anxiety began clawing at her gut. All she was conscious of was an impulse to deny the accusation.
"Your touch does not repulse me."
"No?" Disbelief reeked from his every pore.
Paro knew that if she ever wanted to salvage their relationship, now was the moment.
Bridging the distance between them, she bravely reached for his hands that lay fisted by his sides. Covering them with her own, she forced herself to look up, into his eyes. "No."
For the first time since she'd met Rudra, his eyes reflected uncertainty, vulnerability, and fear.
Or maybe it was the first time that she recognized his emotions, because they mirrored her own.
When crushed in his embrace this time, Paro was neither surprised nor immobile. She ran her hands slowly up his back, pressing herself closer, willing herself to hold his gaze even when she was sure that it would incinerate her.
And when he dipped his head to kiss her, she sighed.
Tonight, she didn't care about any of the shadows that lay in between them. Tonight, she reveled in his heated kisses and desperate caresses. Tonight, she gloried in being possessed, in belonging. She didn't know which she wanted more-- his rough eagerness that took pleasure to the point of pain or his contrite tenderness that soothed and left her aching in a different way.
And when she thought she could bear it no more, waves of intense, undulating bliss flooded her veins-- sweeping through her again and again until she lay exhausted, limp, and gasping.
After his weight on her body grew leaden with sleep, she wriggled into a more comfortable position, wrapped her arms around him, and stroked his scarred back.
Her last conscious thought brought a mischievous half-smile to her face.
The one day I don't hand him his kurta, he just goes without it.
[YOUTUBE]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_w4-1MX2f0[/YOUTUBE]
I'm a huge fan of Maatibaani and Shankar Tucker, and I absolutely love this collab of theirs which has been inspired by Sati's realization of love for Shiva. Again, slightly premature, but I couldn't resist naming this drabble after this song.
We're back on track now, thank you for your patience and wishes!
-TT
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
Cricket
Kaisi Yeh Yaariaan
Health and Fitness
Jodha Akbar
Mangal Lakshmi
