I am suffering from a bout of insomnia, so this is a little something I came up with at 3 in the morning. My sleep deprived brain is too tired to check for grammar/spelling errors, so you will have to forgive me for that. Hope you all enjoy reading.š
He was mesmerized.
There she stood, more beautiful than any human had a right to be. Unsure of herself and her surroundings. He wanted to go to her, calm her fears; but he couldn't move.
He saw no one but her. He heard nothing but the thump of his pounding heart.
She was walking towards him; trying to discern his expression. Was he angry? The last thing she wanted was to upset him, when all he'd been was, understanding of her lack of experience. Not once did he lose his patience with her during this trip. Despite the anxiousness she felt, she smiled.
His heart skipped a beat. That smile. He wanted to see it always. It made him feel at peace. He almost forgot what it felt like. Peace. It was unusual to feel that around her. Usually he did not understand what he was feeling around her, his insides were always so conflicted. Should he trust her? Can he? A lifetime of conditioning to think a certain way does not go away overnight.
She was closer now. He could smell her. That scent, that was distinctly her. Come closer, he thought, urging her silently. Closer.
She stopped moving.
That wouldn't do. He took that final step; closing the gap between the two.
He breathed deeply. Flowers rain earth. Woman. His desert rose. He felt intoxicated. He wanted more. He leaned towards her, lightly brushing against her forehead; her baby hairs tickled his nose.
She looked up. "Sorry..." she started to say, when they heard voices from the front of the room. They turned to see the hosts making an announcement. There would be dancing, they said.
He turned back to face her. Eyes wide, breathing increasingly shallow, her anxiety was clear as day.
"Paro"
"I can't..."
They spoke at the same time.
"I don't know this dance" she said quickly, wringing her hands together. "I think it's best if I just go back to our room". She turned to leave.
"No" Rudra said, louder than he intended. He did not want her to be uncomfortable; but he wanted her there, with him, as his partner, his other half. So consumed was he to be near her, that he did not pause for a second to ask where these thoughts were coming from. Nor did he consider squashing them, before they got the better of him, as he was wont to do.
"I'll guide you" he reassured her. He placed his hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. He dragged his palm down her bare arm, leaving goose bumps in its wake. His fingers skimmed the inside of her palm, lighting her nerves on fire. He pushed his fingers through hers. Holding her hand he pulled her to the dance floor.
"Trust me. I won't let you fall" he said in a rough whisper, pulling her closer.
Her head was bent, eyes closed. He was making her feel things she was not used to. She could not understand how to deal with these new feelings.
"Look into my eyes" he said, his hand curving around her neck. She shivered. He placed his thumb under her jaw, forcing her chin up. Her breaths came in shallow puffs, warming his skin.
"Submit to me" he said, his voice low, hoarse; his lips brushing against her ear. She arched against him. He brought his other hand to her back, sliding it slowly to the small of her back, and pulled. She gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders.
The music played; and he started moving, pulling her with him, guiding her with the hand on her lower back, and his feet.
His gaze was intense, and Paro couldn't look away even if she wanted to. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Is it possible that he was feeling even a fraction of what she was feeling?
This seemingly unquenchable thirst. For more. More of what, she did not know. But, whatever it was, it was at its peak when she was near him.
Paro decided to let go of her worries, her inhibitions. She did as he asked. She submitted.
Rudra could feel the exact moment that she let go. She gave him her trust. He felt it in the way her hand gripped his, knowing he wouldn't let go. He felt it in the softness of her posture when they dipped, knowing he had her.
And so they moved effortlessly across the dance floor. He stepped forward, she stepped back. He bent, she arched. He swept her off her feet; and she hung onto him, feeling freer than she ever had before.
The music slowly came to an end. They stood there; breaths heavy, arms entwined, looking into each other's eyes, consumed by the intensity of the moment.
Neither knew what to say, so nothing was said. Nothing needed to be said. They both understood in their hearts that, come what may, this was an experience that would stay with them till their last breath. Their first dance as man and wife.
Comments are very much appreciated š
Sports
Jodha Akbar
