2 | ArHi FF Resistance | COMPLETE - Page 78

Khushi winced as she stretched, her back sore and aching from sleeping on the ground. There was the faint, blue and pink glow of dawn, the early rays of sunlight striking the pool, making the water shimmer. Her eyes widened as she took in her surroundings, and she shot up, her heart pounding in her chest.

The blankets fell from her body, and goosebumps rapidly crept up her arms as the cool morning air washed over her. She shivered, glancing down at herself.

She hadn't even changed out of her wedding clothes, the embroidery from her heavy lehenga bruising her skin. She rubbed at her arms, wincing as the angry red marks seemed to darken, the jewelry denting her skin.

She moved slightly and gasped as the cool metal of her mangal sutra slipped between her breasts, the beads rubbing against her skin. She automatically reached up a hand to touch it, feeling it between her fingers.

She felt exhausted, the weight settling over her. Her head was heavy, and she felt her hands shake as she took the blanket, folding it slowly. She rubbed at her forehead wearily, wincing as she coughed, her throat scratchy and painful.

Was she falling sick? She did not need that right now, on top of everything with Arnav... or maybe it was just the fact that she had cried right before she slept.

She gingerly pushed open the door, her eyes resting on the man sleeping in the bed. He hadn't gone under the bedsheets, sprawled across the bed in his sherwani. Annoyance bubbled up as she saw him sleeping comfortably on the bed, his head lolling into the pillow, the soft blankets underneath him.

She had slept on the cold, hard ground, and here he was, comfortable in his bed.

She dumped the blankets in the corner with more force than necessary, glaring at him.

She could hear the faint whirr of his breathing, his hand fisted in the bedsheet. His mouth was hanging slightly open, his hair mussed.

She felt a pull towards him, the unfiltered, relaxed version of the Arnav she knew. She reached a hand up again, touching her mangal sutra.

The first rays of the sun filtered in through the cotton curtains. They were cocooned in this little moment, with just the two of them and nothing else in the world.

He stirred in his sleep, murmuring something underneath his breath. His brow furrowed as if he was disturbed.

She leaned in closer as he murmured again, turning slightly, his face creased in a frown. Her heart stopped at the slurred word, listening again.

He mumbled again, his voice heavy and thick with sleep. But there was no mistaking the quiet, gut wrenchingly honest plea in his voice. She could see the emotions flit across his face, his hand crumpling the bedsheet as the creases between his eyebrows deepened.

She sank down beside him, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. Her fingers slid through the unruly locks, and she twisted a stray curl, musing over how it was the only curl in his hair. She liked the way it felt without the confines, soft and loose around his face.

He stiffened under her touch, and she stilled.

Did he recognize her touch?

He relaxed, turning on his side. She let out the breath she was holding, her hand pausing in his hair. She tentatively slid her hand down, tracing the deep lines in his forehead with a feathery touch.

His face softened under her fingers as she eased away the pain, running over the lines until they melded into the surrounding skin. He let out a contented sigh and nestled closer, his fingers slowly unclenching from the blanket.

Her heart warmed at the sight, the soft sigh making her skin tingle. The worry written across his forehead disappeared, and she felt the relief creep seeing him relax, her tight nerves easing.

She wasn't sure whether she was comfortable with that realization.

He made a sound of discontent when her hand stilled, leaning into her touch. She didn't move, trying to come to terms with the feelings rapidly building inside of her, unsettling her.

"Khushi."

His voice was a deep, husky rumble, muffled against the pillow and sleepy.

She froze, staring down at him. She could feel her heart pounding down to the tips of her fingers, the insidious warmth spreading through her. She swallowed, her breath quickening as she stared down at his sleeping form.

Why was he saying her name?

Did he know she was there?

Was he dreaming of her?

Did it mean...

She didn't want to think about it, the thrill that shot up her spine, making her shiver.

He murmured her name again, and body seemed to sing with the stirrings of something. She craved to hear her name on his lips again, leaning in unconsciously towards him, trying to hear the elusive murmur.

She couldn't be caught here, he couldn't know that she-

That she what?

She withdrew her hand as quickly as she could, as his eyelids fluttered, shifting on the bed. She could feel him awakening and realized where she was sitting, heat sweeping up her cheeks.

She stopped still, hoping that he would go back to sleep. She knew he could sense her, his fingers twitching with awareness as his body came out of the dreamless state. She waited with bated breath, praying he would turn around and slip back, just so she could extract herself.

He took a deep breath, and then his arm became heavy, his entire body relaxing once more. The movement behind his eyelids seemed to slow, his breathing becoming steady as his head sank into the pillow.

She breathed a sigh of relief, slowly sliding herself out of his grasp. She picked up her skirts and fled into the bathroom, trying to ignore her traitorous heartbeat.

His eyes snapped open as soon as the door shut, dark and alert. He remained in his position, his mind whirling as he memorized the shadow of her touch. His body was still, as if he were worried that movement would shatter the moment, turn it into a dream.

Why had she sat next to him?

Why had she fled?

Was there something she didn't want him to see?

She opened the door before he could process those questions, the answers remaining blurred in his mind. His heart stopped when he saw her, all of the blood in his body suddenly rushing like waves against the beach in a storm.

He could see the ends of her long, wet hair brushing against her bare waist, the slight curve of her stomach visible just above her petticoat. The sight of her bare stomach, uncovered by a sari, made his head spin with desire, the little droplets of water sliding into her petticoat torturing him.

She was murmuring underneath her breath, and he could see her hands rubbing at the ends of her hair as she reached for her sari. He tried desperately to keep his gaze from stopping at the curve of her blouse, determinedly shooting up to her face, focusing on her eyes.

She felt his gaze on her and met it. She sucked in a breath when she saw the barely controlled hunger in his eyes, her entire body feeling as if it was on fire. His gaze slid down to her mangal sutra, and then moved slowly back up, stoking the flames.

He was staring at her with a possessive need, a look she had never seen before. It knocked all of the thoughts out of her mind until she was unable to focus on anything but him, the unmistakable draw that pulled her closer to him.

She felt the cool air on her stomach and gasped. She flushed furiously as realization crept in. Her mouth parted in horror as a soft scream escaped her lips, and she whirled around, slamming the bathroom door as she clutched the sari to her chest.

She looked down at herself, her face flaming at the realization that she had walked out in only her blouse and petticoat.

She had completely forgotten that sharing a space entailed this, that she was sharing a room with him.

She could feel his desire filled, sleepy gaze through the door, making her entire body feel leaden and impatient at the same time, craving for something she didn't want to face.

Her hands slipped as she tried to pleat the sari, and she cursed as the fabric slipped to the ground, the edges stained with water. The water spread quickly, darkening the fabric as the pink dye swirled into the ground.

She hastily lifted it, remaking the pleats messily and stepping out of the bathroom. He was waiting on the bed pateintly, his hair still mussed the way she had left it, his eyes piercing as they focused on her.

She looked away immediately, rushing to the closet where she could hide behind the door until he slipped into the bathroom, pretending to fold her lehenga. She waited with bated breath as his footsteps moved towards the bathroom, keeping her eyes trained on the dark shadows in the closet.

She hadn't heard the click of the door...

She tentatively looked around, noting that he wasn't in the room. She tiptoed over to the dresser, closing her eyes and sighing with relief that he wasn't there to fix her with that gaze that was far too intimate for her liking, reminded her of all that this could be.

She couldn't let herself believe that, not even after...

"You will sleep next to me. We will not just share a bed, but a life, and I'll wait... forever, if I have to."

His soft murmur rang in her mind, and her hands slowed in rubbing the towel. Her fingers curled at the memory, a shiver running through her as goosebumps began to crawl up her arms.

She shook her head. Her head spun and she grabbed the side of the dresser, steadying herself. She felt her her stomach lurch, and swallowed, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling.

She took a deep breath, as the nausea slowly faded away, glancing surreptitiously at the half open door of the bathroom. She could see him rubbing the brush in foamy circles on his darkly stubbled cheeks, the white cream covering his skin.

There was something private about watching him do this, a calming, relaxing feeling as his hands moved in practiced circles.

He leaned forward into the mirror and she did too, watching with mesmerized interest. She had never really been privy to such an essential moment of a man's day, and the idea intrigued her in a way it never had before. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the knife in his hand and she gasped aloud as he brought it to his cheek.

The knife slipped, at the sound as his eyes shot to hers, a grimace curving his lips as blood began to seep from the wound. He cursed roundly, bending down to the water and splashing the wound, wincing as it stung.

She leapt from the bed with a fear she hadn't known, the dizziness that assaulted her pushed to the back. Her mind completely stopped at the sight of the red water against the white of their sink. She burrowed through the layers of shirts, flipping open drawers as she searched for the anti-septic.

What if he had been hurt badly? What if that wound became infected? What if something happened to him, what would she d-

Why did she feel as if she had been cut instead of him, the worry nearly paralyzing?

She pushed the thought out of her mind as her hands finally touched the bottle. Sighing with relief, she ran to the bathroom, her stomach churning. Her eyes immediately went to his cheek, relief flooding through her once more at the sight of the innocuous, thin line that had finally stopped bleeding.

She hadn't anticipated just how relieved she would be.

He turned around to grab a towel, only to be handed anti-septic, wrapped neatly in his towel. He glowered at the woman who was now his wife, but she merely looked back at him, ignoring his silent tantrum.

Sighing in irritation, he took the bottle, keeping his gaze on her.

"Don't do that again."

He said gruffly before she could apologize profusely, cutting her off. She closed her mouth, watching as he skillfully spun open the bottle, rubbing it against the wound.

One would have thought he had been mortally wounded with the way that had bled, he thought ruefully, flinching at the burn. He bathed quickly, dumping the cold water over his head in a futile effort to reduce the imprint of her fingers against his scalp, gently easing the guilt away.

If only she had known what he had been dreaming about.

He dried his hair quickly, closing the bathroom door carefully as he buttoned his pants. He slipped on his shirt, walking over to his dresser as he always did to button it up. He stopped dead at the sight, staring at her with a mixture of wariness and thrill that coursed through him.

She was there.

He had always known her hair was long, but there was something... different about seeing it this way. It was a thick wave of silk, the ends curling around and framing her face beautifully. Her face was still flushed from her bath, a freshness there that made her almost radiant.

The usually faint lavender was stronger, and he felt the tug that made him want to reach out and touch the locks, allowing them to fall through his fingers. He almost laughed at the pang of envy he felt towards the ends of her hair that brushed the skin at her waist, soaking up the little water droplets.

She was... his.

No other person had seen her this way, so uninhibited as she went about her morning routine.

The thought filled him with a strange sense of satisfaction, a contentment that he had never felt sweeping through him. His stomach unknotted and he felt relaxed, captivated by her.

She silently moved over to give him room, her eyes fixed on the mirror in front of her. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, watching as she leaned forward, pulling the bottom of her eyelid down and swiftly swiping the light pink a dark black.

She leaned back, studying herself critically as she ran the tip of her pinky underneath her thick lashes to clean it up. His gaze followed the soft bow of her lips, down the curve of her neck, lingering on the mangal sutra that slipped into the faint shadow.

His.

He glanced at her parting, suddenly annoyed that it was no longer filled with the dark red powder. The streak of possessiveness startled him. Her eyes met his in the mirror, and he immediately diverted his gaze, staring down at the buttons that he had yet to close.

He snuck a glance at her, her cheekbones highlighted with a distinct pink, her gaze fixed on the fingers that began to do the button. He smiled to himself, hearing her breath catch, the determinedly steady breathing that seemed entirely too loud in the silence of the early morning.

She gritted her teeth, frustrated by the way he was affecting her. They were standing far too close for her comfort, the air crackling with awareness of them. She didn't like the intimacy of the moment; or maybe she liked it too much.

The thin cotton of his pale blue shirt contrasted beautifully with the tan of skin, making the heat pool at her center. She swallowed audibly, unable to resist glancing at the strip of skin still visible from the unbuttoned buttons.

And then there was the way he was looking at her.

She hated it, hated it so much that she couldn't stop the slow burn that seemed to consume her, the dark, appreciative caramel gaze making her heart race. She hated that she had unconsciously taken a little extra time to apply the kohl, running her hands through her hair in the mirror in the bathroom just once, making sure the frizziness had been reduced just a little.

Her eyes slipped back to those mesmerizing fingers, now deftly working the buttons. She could see the fine hairs that curled against his chest, the ones that trailed right down, disappearing into neatly pressed black pants. Shocked by the direction of her thoughts, she hastily reached for a bobby pin, craving familiarity as she pried it apart, sticking one in her mouth.

Arnav cursed mentally when she slipped the dark pin into her mouth, watching as those tantalizing lips pursed appealingly to hold it in place. The pink of her tongue was just pressing against her teeth, and he found himself adjusting the way he tucked in his shirt, loosening his belt slightly.

Damn it. He was acting like a depraved man, one with no control.

His lips twisted in distaste when he saw that she had pulled her hair back into that tight bun, covering the thick strands with her pallu. He glanced up once more, irritation filling him.

She turned around to leave, but was stopped by his gruff voice.

"Your sindoor. Ma would want you to have it for the pooja."

She turned back to see his hand holding out the pot, twisted behind his back as he stared at the wall in front of him.

She pushed away the twinge of annoyance she felt at the fact that he didn't even look at her as he handed her the red powder that symbolized their union, frustrated that it was even affecting her.

Why did she care?

He didn't seem to care for her much anyway, seeing as he was still going to move back to England.

She had done this for Ma, Papa, and NK.

Only for them.

Lost in her irritation, she didn't notice the satisfaction that creeped into Arnav's eyes as he followed the pinch of her fingers, the small curve that tugged at his lips as she swept the powder through her parting. His gaze lingered on the red stain even as she walked out, the tightness in his chest loosening as he stared down at the red powder in his hands.

*********

Khushi came down the stairs, swaying slightly, as she paused. She held a hand to her head, the burning heat making her groan. Her legs felt weak as she took the steps slowly, feeling exhausted.

She stopped in the doorway to the living room, holding the frame. Anjali turned around, fixing Khushi with a knowing grin. Khushi flushed deeply, realizing the meaning behind that grin.

"Ma, isn't she a little... red today?"

Anjali's gaze shifted downwards, and Khushi suddenly felt like pulling her sari tightly around her. The marks left from her necklace were faint but visible, and she saw Anjali raise an eyebrow as she took them in.

"Accha Khushi, batao, how was it?"

She rolled her eyes as Anjali nudged her shoulder, sending a wink towards Ma. Khushi's turned pleadingly towards Sakshi, who merely shrugged her shoulders with a wry grin.

"Kya Khushi, you're not telling me anything!"

Anjali whined, pretending to be wounded.

"Do you really want to know about your brother's..."

Khushi trailed off with a sly smile, knowing it would silence her for a bit. Anjali grimaced, shuddering slightly.

"No. But I'm willing to make that sacrifice for you..."

Anjali grinned, leaning forward conspiratorially. Khushi blushed, rolling her eyes as she took the thali from Sakshi. She glanced around for Arnav, her eyes searching him out.

He should have been ready by now...

(continued in next post)