1 | ArHi FF Resistance | COMPLETE - Page 87

Originally posted by: Chokri_ASR

Chota packet where the heck is the update... Hmph Choti style 😛

Anjali and Khushi worked in comfortable silence, each lost within their own thoughts.

She missed Aman desperately, even though they had only seen each other two days back. Their meeting had been entirely too fleeting, surrounded by boisterous, excited family.

She sighed heavily, frustrated. It wasn't like her to be so irritable, but she couldn't help it.

A small giggle broke her thoughts, and Anjali turned to see Khushi suppressing a smile.

Anjali leaned back against the counter, watching as Khushi absentmindedly stirred the aloo methi, a secretive smile on her face.

Something was different about her.

She observed her closely, noting that there was a little extra bounce in Khushi's step. She seemed to be taking particular care of the dish, measuring everything twice- sometimes even thrice.

Khushi continued to stir the dish, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. She couldn't keep the smile off of her face, her mind automatically thinking of Arnav.

She could feel the heat pooling at her cheeks as she recalled the way she had leaned up and kissed him without hesitation, his lips soft and insistent against hers. She almost shivered at the memory of his fingers digging lightly into her hip, her entire body flushing with a strange combination of desire and embarrassment.

Anjali watched in amazement as her normally poised friend struggled to keep the silly smile off of her face.

Khushi was always collected, her head firmly on her shoulders. Even as Anjali became flustered at the mere thought of Aman, Khushi would remain level headed, highly amused by Anjali's obvious affection for him.

She had teased her relentlessly, making subtle comments on how clear Aman and Anjali's feelings were for each other.

But for once, the tables were flipped.

Her smile was secretive, and Anjali could tell that she had taken a little extra time to apply the kohl that lined her hazel eyes.

"Tum theek ho, Khushi? You look a little flushed..."

Khushi started at Anjali's question. Anjali kept her voice carefully neutral, her eyes focused on the pot of boiling milk in front of her.

Khushi cleared her throat nervously.

Was it that obvious?

"I'm... fine. It's always so hot in here..."

"Haan, and you've been making that aloo methi for so long, so carefully. You've made it so many times, and you always make it so quickly- aaj kya hua?"

"Woh... Main... I'm trying to um, woh Ma had taught me her recipe because A-Arnavji likes it this way..."

Khushi winced as she stumbled on Arnav's name, the blush resuming its place on her face at the thought of him.

Anjali watched with amusement, noting the way Khushi mumbled Arnav's name, her voice trembling nervously.

"Accha? Ma taught you to make it Bhai's favorite way? She hasn't even taught me that! She always said she would teach it to her bahu-"

Khushi's eyes snapped up, her heart pounding nervously against her chest at the innocent word.

Anjali paused, carefully masking the smirk that threatened to pull at her lips as Khushi's hand automatically lifted to her chest.

"B-bahu? Anju, main- woh- Arnavji aur main-"

She stumbled over the words, her voice cracking nervously. Anjali waited patiently as Khushi struggled to find the words, her eyes darting around the room nervously. She reached out, placing a hand on Khushi's shoulder and giving her a reassuring smile.

Khushi smiled back tentatively, lines of worry around her eyes.

She didn't know how Anju would react to this. It was her brother after all, and she wasn't sure if...

Her thoughts trailed off, uncertainty overwhelming her.

"You and Bhai...?"

Khushi sighed, twisting her fingers as she stared down at the floor.

"Arnavji... he... you know the green sari, the one that I had kept aside? He- woh... kept it for me. We... garden together. Aur... I don't know, we just-"

"He couldn't take his eyes off of you, Khushi."

Anjali's voice was gently insistent, and Khushi lifted a surprised gaze immediately to meet that of her friend's.

"You- woh, he- nahi! He was... I had something on my face."

The statement came out in a rush, and Khushi winced as even she realized how false it sounded. She put her face in her hands, completely mortified that Anju had noticed what was happening.

"I just don't know how to handle this, Anju. I know we're different, maybe too different for it to work, and that... he makes me feel... as if I'm..."

Khushi floundered, trying to find the words to express herself.

How could she explain how Arnav made her feel?

Her cheeks heated up at the thought of the fire he sent up her skin when he touched her, at the way his dry sarcasm made her smile, at the way her heartbeat raced whenever he she so much as thought of him.

Anjali observed Khushi, shaking her head.

She recognized the signs, of course. She knew exactly how Khushi felt, she had seen the way her older brother affected her best friend.

And the way Khushi affected her brother.

She had rarely seen her brother with so much affection in his eyes, not even bothering to hide it. His eyes immediately searched for her when he walked into a room, and when he finally found her, they rested there, simply taking her in.

She was thrilled that it was him. She couldn't have hand picked anyone better for Khushi, someone who would challenge her and shower her with love, remaining fiercely loyal.

She knew how protective Arnav was of those who were close to him, and knew that he would treat Khushi in the same way. She had seen Khushi's devastation after her parents had passed away, the way she had retreated into herself.

It was good to see her happy, her cheeks glowing with joy. She could see glimpses of her

But she couldn't suppress the niggling doubt in the back of her mind that Arnav could unintentionally hurt Khushi.

He didn't want to stay in India.

But Khushi would never want to leave.

The doubts clouded the joy she felt, and she found herself feeling troubled for Khushi.

If Arnav hurt her...

Anjali wasn't sure what would happen.

As she leaned over to give Khushi a warm hug, she closed her eyes, sending up a silent prayer to make this work.

*********

Khushi sat down across from Arnav, serving herself just as Arnav began to eat. She glanced up at him, trying to discern his reaction to her aloo methi.

He chewed thoughtfully, allowing the taste to linger on his tongue. He closed his eyes in pleasure, savoring the dish.

"Did Khushi make this?"

The entire table paused, looking at Arnav, who continued to eat calmly.

Sakshi looked up in surprise, not expecting Arnav to notice. He would often notice that the dish tasted different if Anju made it, but it was rare that he pinpointed exactly who made the dish.

"Haan, this was made by Khushi. Kyun?"

"Nothing, it just tastes like her cooking."

Anjali hid her smile, focusing her gaze determinedly on her plate. Arnav didn't seem to think much of his statement, completely oblivious to the pleasantly shocked expression Khushi was desperately trying to hide.

"Accha hai?"

Her voice was quiet, but the curious excitement was evident in her tone. Arnav looked up at her, his gaze meeting hers, holding it for a long second. He didn't look away as he responded, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips.

"Ma, I think... you'll have to let Khushi make this from now on."

Anjali's mouth fell open, unable to believe that her brother had so blatantly revealed his affection for Khushi. She could see the satisfaction in his eyes at rattling Khushi, who was focusing all her attention on the plate in front of her as her cheeks darkened rapidly.

Khushi sucked in a sharp breath at his blunt statement, her eyes holding a warning. He simply smiled back, ignoring the shocked looks of the rest of the table. Bending his head forward, he continued to eat as if nothing had happened.

"Shaadi bhi nahi hua, and you're already forgetting your mother's cooking?"

Sakshi's affronted expression couldn't hide the amusement in her eyes, indulging her son.

Ashok glanced between his family, resting his eyes on Arnav and Khushi.

The normally controlled Khushi was clearly flustered, her cheeks a beet red as she hastily put food into her mouth. Opposite her, Arnav looked pleased with himself, as collected as ever.

He had noticed the change between Arnav and Khushi, the increasing closeness between the two.

Their chemistry had always been undeniable, but now... there was something... more.

On some level, it made him worry.

Khushi was a daughter to him. He had sworn to Shashi to protect her from pain as a father would, and Arnav...

Arnav would treat her well, he knew. They were well suited to each other, and Ashok would have gotten them married in a heartbeat.

But Arnav would always want to move back to England, and Khushi was far too attached to India.

Between a husband and a wife, that difference could be devastating. Arnav would grow to resent Khushi for keeping him here, and Khushi would resent Arnav for wanting to move.

He looked between the two of them again, at the shy blush that adorned Khushi's face and the way Arnav's eyes didn't leave her for a second.

He hoped it would work. He hoped that if he was right, they would someday come to realize how much they meant to each other.

But he could only hope.

*********

Khushi took the steps by two, something she rarely did.

He had flustered her, his simple words of appreciation making her blush furiously. She slipped into her room, hastily undoing her sari as she reached for her comfortable, baggy salwar kameez.

She washed her face, taking extra time to scrub away at the dirt from the day. She lifted her hair up into her customary bun that she wore at night, but paused, staring at herself in the mirror as his voice echoed in her brain.

He had walked into her room to give her something, unintentionally walking in on her drying her hair after a bath. Her hair had been down, streaming down her back in a thick wave that came all the way down to her hips.

He had paused, his eyes darkening as he took in her flushed skin, the wet tendrils curling around her face.

You look... nice.

His voice had been husky, a low rumble as his eyes lingered on her, darkening further until they were almost black. He had reached out towards her, but quickly closed his hand into a fist, knowing that it wasn't an appropriate time.

Khushi loosened her fingers, and the untied bun came free, letting her hair tumble down her back. Smiling shyly, she gently brushed stray strands behind her ear, anticipating the appreciation in his gaze.

He had murmured in her ear earlier, asking her to meet him up on the terrace after everyone had gone to sleep. She had nodded noncommittally, knowing that Anjali was watching them with sharp, knowing eyes.

She slipped out of her room, glancing around to make sure it was quiet. She felt a rush of adrenaline, and then felt ridiculous.

This was her house. Why was she sneaking around like a thief?

She tiptoed up the stairs to the terrace, adjusting her dupatta over her shoulder. She felt the rush of the cool night air, blowing back her hair. Wincing, she berated herself.

This is why she always put her hair into a braid. What was the need to wear it this way, Khushi?

Arnav turned around at the sound of her soft footsteps, hearing her quiet mumbling underneath her breath. She hadn't seen him yet, her eyes cast downwards as she said something to herself.

Khushi looked up when she felt his gaze, her eyes meeting his. His gaze swept over her loose hair, the corners of his lips pulling up as he realized she had done this for him. She smiled up at him nervously, her eyes sparkling even in the dark.

He stepped forward, brushing an errant piece of hair behind her ear. Her eyes fluttered shut at his touch, leaning into him.

"You look... nice."

He could see the surprise tinging her expression, clearly not expecting him to recall that particular moment.

"Thank you."

They walked over to the edge of the terrace together, swinging their feet over the edge. She hid her smile, noticing that he wasn't wearing the nightclothes he had brought from England. He was wearing a loose white kurta, one that emphasized how tan his arms were now.

She placed her hand close to his, their fingers just barely brushing as they sat in companionable silence. She felt his fingers inch closer, pressing up against hers, and swallowed as his touch made the heat spread through her slowly.

"You're not going to introduce me to your parents?"

She turned to him, shocked. He looked down at her, the twinkle hiding the seriousness in his expression.

"You mentioned that your parents are up there, watching over you. Remember?"

"Yes, I- I remember. But you... I..."

She trailed off, unsure as to how to continue. She regarded him for a moment, before lifting her head up to look at the sky.

"That one, that one over there? That's Babuji. The one that shines brightly. And the slightly muted one behind it... can you see it? That's Mama."

"Should I pranaam to them?"

She found herself laughing. He had said it so seriously, without a twitch of amusement. The laughter faded as they looked at each other, smiling softly.

Khushi looked away for a minute, before turning her head back up to the sky.

"Babuji was always laughing. Mama used to say that I'm a carbon copy of him, someone who never sits down. Everyone knew him, from the rich to the poor. I can still hear his laughter in my head sometimes."

She sighed heavily, her voice cracking as she continued to speak. Arnav listened in silence, his heart breaking for the woman who had lost two people who meant so much to her.

"Mama was the exact opposite. She was so demure and reserved, always had poise. She was impeccably polite, and a fantastic cook. They would cook together, you know... Babuji and I used to have a game, to see who could get her to crack one of her rare smiles."

She was openly crying now, tears streaming down her face unchecked. Arnav's throat tightened, and he looked away, wishing he could comfort her in some way.

"I miss them."

She said simply, her voice broken.

It didn't need any embellishments, a long winded statement on how much her parents meant to her. Those three, simple words revealed everything, the depth of the void her parents had left behind.

Arnav's fingers moved towards her hand, removing the space between them. It wasn't a show of affection, an attempt to fill the empty spaces as his fingers slid between hers.

She shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder as she closed her eyes, the tears continuing to fall. They sat there in silence, the presence of each other enough.

Arnav felt her hot tears stain the thin cotton of his kurta. He could hear her quiet sniffles, feel her hand occasionally move up to brush at the tears. He hated the sight of her tears. He wished he could do something, anything to alleviate her anguish.

His stomach clenched painfully, and he slid his arm around her, pulling her into him.

She stiffened slightly in surprise, but quickly relaxed into his warm grip. She inhaled deeply, the familiar smell of him embedding itself in her, comforting her.

Unwittingly, her own fingers tightened around his, his fingers filling the gaps between hers.

*********

Note: And that's where I'll leave you for today! My apologies on the delay- AD took over, with college applications and packing for my trip. I'll be gone this week, but I'll post a teaser sometime.

Please let me know what you think if you can, with a like or comment- I love to know your thoughts!

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Love always,

A very, very happy Choti.