3 | ArHi FF: Resistance | COMPLETE | PAGE 74 | UPDATED 2/6 - Page 24

Originally posted by: Chokri_ASR

<font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" size="3">It's Wednesday... where are thou?😕</font>

Originally posted by: chotidesi

First, thank you all for the response to this chapter- it was beautiful, and some of the comments astounded me. Thank you for showering your love upon NK- and for understanding Khushi's pain. Seeing your response gives me so much inspiration to write more.

You all truly, truly never fail to amaze me.

Much love to you all.

Choti.

She stared across at the rippling waters of the pool, her mind reeling from the memories that never seemed to cease. Every memory hurt, a sharp pain that made her throat burn with unshed tears.

"This is where we meet."

A sixteen year old Anjali pushed open the door to reveal a wide, open room. The two men in the middle paused mid conversation, turning around to look at her curiously.

She shrank back under their gazes, unused to them. She didn't like the attention, feeling like an outsider as she stood in the center. She glanced at Anjali, who gently nudged her forward.

"Aman, NK, this is Khushi. She will be living my family, and she wants to join us."

Anjali announced. She looked between them, their piercing stares making her uncomfortable. The man named Aman seemed serious, his eyes unreadable as he looked at her.

She looked over to the other man, NK. She found warm, brown eyes staring back at her, a smile on his face.

"Khushi."

He tested her name out, smiling more widely now. She felt comfortable with him, relaxing under his deep voice, the power behind them audible.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

The other man said. She looked back over at Aman, taken aback by the warmth in his eyes, the corners crinkling as he smiled. She heard Anjali laugh behind her, chattering animatedly about the movement and what they stood for, interrupted only occasionally by Aman.

She took a hiccuping breath, squeezing her eyes shut. His eyes flickered in front of her, the warmth she had so often sought solace in staring back at her. Tears snuck past the weak barriers, sliding down her cheeks in flat trails.

She felt the familiar, stabbing pain as they talked about the recent lives lost in a lathi charge. The world seemed to spin around her, her breath coming in hiccuping gasps.

Her body felt chilled through, and she didn't even realize she was trembling as the tears stung at her eyes.

She had thought the pain would dull after a year, that she wouldn't experience the flood of paralyzing memories. She could still hear the resounding crack as the baton his her father's head, sending him collapsing to the ground as people stampeded around them.

The room suffocated her, and she got up abruptly, ignoring Anjali's questioning call. She fled, breaking into a run as the tears streamed down her face, stumbling over the roots of trees.

She slowed to a stop, breathing heavily as the tears came harder. She gasped for breath, her chest burning. Her shoulders shook with unending sobs, her nose running, knives of pain slicing through her throat.

Her breathing grew shallow, coming in shuddering gasps. She closed her eyes, the tears continuing to slip through the cracks of her lashes. Her face grew stiff as the tears began to dry, each tear creating a new track down her face. Her body was heavy with grief.

She missed them. She missed them so much it hurt.

"Khushi?"

His gentle, worried voice was a distant echo through her haze, but she didn't turn around, turning away from him. She could feel the shadow of his form behind her, close enough to provide comfort. She felt him move beside her and flinched warily.

He silently held out his handkerchief. There was a long pause, with only their breathing heard in the and the fabric rustled as she took it from his hand. She tried to muffle the hiccups that hurt her chest.

He was silent. He didn't ask any questions, simply waiting beside her, offering her solace.

She took a deep breath, wiping at her face with the handkerchief. She swallowed, not turning around as she spoke.

"My father was killed after a lathi charge."

He still remained silent. A strange calm settled over her, and she continued speaking as if in a trance. The words spilled out of her lips, and she was unable to stop them.

"We were devastated. It was just the three of us, Mama, Papa and me."

She took another shuddering breath, the tears blurring her vision.

"Papa was everything to us. Ma... couldn't take his death. She died just months later."

She paused, swallowing tightly.

"Ma was a serious person, but even she couldn't keep herself from cracking a smile around him. She always accused him of spoiling me."

She said, fondness entering her voice as a wistful smile pulled at her lips.

"I can still taste his jalebis."

She tried to hold back the tears, hiccuping painfully even as they spilled over once more. She wiped at them in frustration, her breathing unsteady. She heard him take a breath.

"My mother passed away last year."

He said quietly. She immediately turned to look at him, staring at his profile. She could see his jaw tremble as he let out a long, slow breath through his teeth. She could see the pain in the creases around his mouth, the sadness in his eyes.

She leaned over, not thinking as she wrapped her arms around him. She felt him stiffen, and then relax, resting his head on hers. She could feel the cool wetness of his tears as they landed on her head, his arms tightening around her.

She didn't wipe at the tears, the cool beads sliding down her neck, seeping through the cloth of her blouse.

She wasn't oblivious to the unsubtle glances he sent her way, filled with obvious longing.

"He's looking at you again."

Anjali whispered loudly, a mischievous grin on her face. Khushi flushed in embarrassment, watching out of the corner of her eye as the meeting finished up. She could see him waiting at the door for her, distractedly talking to Aman.

"Anju, can you stay back? I wanted to discuss something with you."

Aman said. Khushi's eyes widened, knowing she would be left to walk back with NK.

She wasn't ready to deal with it yet.

She loved him dearly, as a friend. He was one of her closest friends, and nothing could change that.

But she knew he felt something more, and she didn't know how to respond to that.

Anjali gave her a glance, and ignored her frantic look, nodding at Aman. She nudged Khushi in the back, giving her a knowing look.

Khushi reluctantly followed NK, fiddling with her fingers. The weight of his feelings for her rested over them, the air thick with anticipation.

He stopped abruptly, and she nearly stumbled into him, catching herself just in time. He was looking at her, his gaze almost reverent.

"I like you, Khushi."

She could still hear his voice, warm and powerful. She felt a sharp thrust of pain as she recalled the way his eyes had lit up when she had agreed to marry him, unable to stop himself from pulling her into a hug.

The pain was debilitating, his begging plea ringing in her ears as the jailers dragged him away. She couldn't run from the memories that came like a river let loose from a dam, drowning her.

She struggled, drawing shaky, long breaths that failed to diminish the unbearable heaviness in her heart. She drew her knees into her chest. Her sobs subsided as she sat in exhausted silence. Her lashes were cool and spiky against her cheek, her eyes burning from the salt of her tears. Her breathing slowed as she succumbed to her exhaustion, her face stiff with tear tracks. She leaned her head against the cold glass, feeling the throbbing pulse in her forehead as she closed her eyes.

Arnav stood at the doorway of their bedroom. He had never felt so utterly helpless as he watched the sobs wrack her body, her breath coming in heaving gasps. He hadn't noticed the tears on his own face, his body shaking as he watched her cry silently.

He slowly walked over to her, reaching out to touch the matted hair. She stirred but didn't wake, twisting away from his touch.

He bent forward, scooping her up into his arms. He held her close, trying to take her pain away through his touch, desperately wanting to ease the pain that was written her features. Her hands fisted in his shirt as he carried her to their bed, laying her down on it. He gently used his handkerchief to wipe her face, murmuring softly as she turned fitfully in her sleep.

She wouldn't let go of him, her hands grasping his shirt tightly. He stared at her for a moment before moving her over, cradling her in his arms as he laid down beside her.

*********

She sat up abruptly, a warm hand resting across her stomach. She had a throbbing headache, her eyes puffy and stinging from crying the night before. She yawned, clutching the bone between her eyebrows and groaning as her headache worsened.

She looked down at Arnav, his mouth parted slightly as he slept, breathing steady. She reached out to run her fingers through his hair, a small smile on her face. She untangled herself from his arms, shaking her head at the grunt of displeasure as he rolled over.

She pulled her hair into a bun, wincing as she looked in the mirror.

Her eyes were so puffy... it was such a terrible nightmare.

She shuddered, goosebumps crawling up her skin. The jailer's words had seemed so real. She could hear the harsh echo in her mind, the feeling of her stomach dropping to her feet.

She would go see him today, just to make sure he was okay.

She walked back out of the bathroom, drying her hair. Arnav's eyes immediately shot to hers, worriedly scanning her face. She could feel the wave of dread building in her stomach but pushed it away, trying to ignore it.

It couldn't be real. It couldn't be real, he was still there. He had to be.

She flashed him a smile, turning away from him. She could see his brow furrow in confusion in the mirror, regarding her carefully.

"Khushi?"

She could hear the concern in his voice and turned to look at him with a bright smile. His face was taut with worry as he stood up, walking towards her.

"I thought I would go see NK today. I have been meaning to but..."

A strange sense of deja vu hit her, and she saw something flash in Arnav's eyes. She pushed forward, shoving down the panic that rose up within her. She could hear her voice growing shriller, the wide smile on her face feeling fake.

No. No. No. It couldn't be real. It wasn't real, yesterday had been a nightmare, a terrible nightmare.

"I- I know you don't want me to go there, but we need Nikhil-"

"Khushi, Nikhil is gone."

He said gently, reaching out to touch her. She could see pity in his eyes, shaking her head as her vision blurred. She shook her head frantically, gulping air as she looked at him.

"Nahi, Arnav, it was a dream! He's there, he's in jail, I just have to go-"

"Khushi."

"Stop it!"

She yelled, stepping back from his touch.

He froze, looking at her helplessly. His anguish was evident. It hurt to tell her this, to see the tears in her eyes.

"He- he's not dead. He's not dead, he wouldn't do that to me! He wouldn't just leave me, leave us! N-not without seeing India free, he wouldn't... he wouldn't die!"

He struggled to keep himself together as her face grew blotchy, her nose running. His hands felt as if they were tied, and he bit back a growl of frustration, unable to do anything for her.

"He's dead, Khushi, he's dead."

She broke down into gasping sobs, her chest heaving. She kept saying no, repeating herself over and over again as he wrapped his arms around her. She didn't fight him this time, allowing him to hold her.

It gave him little solace as his shirt grew hot, her body shaking in his arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He murmured, holding her tightly. She pushed him away, wiping the tears from her face as anger sparked in her eyes.

"Why did he do this to me? Why did he do this, Arnav, why did he let himself die? He promised me! He promised me he would be there to fight beside me! He promised me, Arnav! He- he abandoned me after he told me he would be there!"

Arnav watched as she ranted, the tears still sliding down her face. She was oblivious to his gentle touches trying to calm her, to the quiet repetition of her name.

It was as if she couldn't hear him, the tears falling harder and faster.

"Khushi!"

He grasped her arms and she struggled in his grip, trying to push him away. He could hear the pattering of feet as his parents pushed open the door, followed by Anjali. He felt himself being pushed back as they approached her, Sakshi cradling Khushi to her chest as Khushi cried into her arms.

He stood back, watching. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and slipped out of the room, knowing she was well taken care of.

He stood at the edge of the terrace, looking out. Slowly, he sat down, swinging his feet over the edge. He could hear echoes of her laughter, the shadow of her pinky as it locked with his.

He lifted his hand to wipe away the tears that stung at his eyes. His elbow brushed against his shirt and he felt the stiffness from her tears. He looked down at it, a heavy ache in his heart.

He hadn't believed it was possible to feel someone else's pain so acutely.

"I am ready to marry NK."

He sucked in a breath, his fingers curling into a fist. The memory of the words dealt a sharp blow even now, making his stomach drop. His heart squeezed in his chest painfully, the wound still running deep.

He let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, staring down at his closed fist.

He couldn't imagine his life without Khushi as his wife.

In just a short time, she had become so important to him. He couldn't imagine another man looking over to see her dark tendrils of wet hair curling around her face as she applied her kajal, the little satisfied sigh when she stepped back.

He had hated NK for almost having that opportunity, for nearly taking his Khushi away from him.

But as he watched Khushi mourn him, it hadn't mattered. The loss of NK had taken a piece of him too, the pain of his absence ringing just as strongly for him as it did for her.

He had seen how much NK had loved Khushi. He had walked past his cell as he had gone to see Khushi, his slumped form in the corner, brown eyes looking out.

He had seen the sadness in his eyes, the regret at hurting her.

He respected that. Because he had felt that too.

He looked up at the sky, automatically searching for the stars. He could see the pinkish tinge of dawn, the sun beginning to mask the twinkling lights that adorned the sky.

"My parents. I believe that they're up there, watching over me."

"I didn't ask. You don't have to tell me."

"You didn't ask directly, no. But you implied it, didn't you?"

He closed his eyes at the memory, letting it play back in his mind. He almost laughed at how much things had changed since then, their first barely cordial conversation.

Which one of the stars was NK?

He looked back up at the sky, seeking out the stars of her parents. His eyes moved further out, searching for him. They came to rest on the brightest star in a cluster, almost a greenish hue.

It was as if the other stars were following it, dimmer ones circling it. Arnav couldn't help but smile faintly as it twinkled back at him proudly.

That was him. It had to be.

(continued in the next post)

He could see her out of the corner of his eye, standing at the mirror. It was a familiar pose, something that usually made his lips tug into a smile in the early morning.

He watched as she pinched the red podwer between her thumb and pointer, staining her parting red. She placed a simple, round bindi in the center of her forehead, her hair pulled back into a tight bun.

Her eyes were rimmed with red, her kajal missing. Her face was drawn tight, stoic and composed.

The silence from his wife unsettled him. She hadn't cried in a week, growing quiet and withdrawn. She shied away from his touch, remaining stiff and uncomfortable. She was purposefully keeping him out, refusing to let him help her as she distanced herself.

She turned around, collecting her things in an orderly manner. She could feel Arnav's gaze on her, watching her closely.

She avoided it, not wanting to look at him.

She craved his affection, longed for his touches. She wanted to let him hold her as she cried, instead of silent tears staining the pillow late at night. She needed the warmth of his embrace, the solace he offered.

But she couldn't.

She had forgotten about the man who had been her friend for five years, who had inspired her to fight.

He had died, and she hadn't tried to save him.

Guilt pinched sharply at her, the tears threatening to well again. The piercing pain overwhelmed her with its ferocity, making her chest tighten. She blinked rapidly, taking a long breath to calm herself.

She missed him so much.

He would have been waiting for her at the corner of their road, his eyes alight with excitement and determination.

She could almost see him, the walk she had taken hundreds of times as she had slipped out to protest. The familiar adrenaline rush she would feel as she saw him, the confidence in his eyes giving her strength.

She could hear his voice in her ears, the simple sentence that he would say before every protest resounding.

Yeh hamara desh hai.

She took another shuddering breath, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

She wished she could see him just one more time, hear that voice.

She quickly wiped away the tear that had escaped. She hastily turned to walk out of the door when she found herself face to face with her husband. He gently caught her in his grip, hooking his fingers under her chin.

She felt the warmth seep through her at his gentle touch. Her heart ached for the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his familiar smell.

But she held herself away.

She couldn't let herself give in. She didn't deserve that happiness.

"Khushi? Are you going somewhere?"

She extracted herself from his grasp, distancing herself from him. A glimpse of hurt flashed across his face, and she forcibly shoved away the stab of guilt.

"Yes. I'm going out to protest."

He inhaled sharply, remembering the chaos of the last protest. An image of an emotionless officer mercilessly using his baton appeared in his mind, the stick whooshing past, just barely missing him as he had stormed towards the jail.

He could see NK's sad eyes as he had walked past him in the jail, huddled in a dark corner. His gut clenched, panic rising within him.

Fear curled in his stomach.

He couldn't lose Khushi.

If she was caught again, he may not be able to save her.

Would her fate be that of NK's?

No! He couldn't allow that. He wouldn't.

"No. Khushi, you will not go."

He said firmly. He saw a flare of anger in her eyes, and braced himself. His heart yearned to let her go, knowing that she needed this to put NK's memory at peace.

But he couldn't back down on this. He couldn't lose her.

"I am going, Arnav."

She said, meeting his gaze. He could hear the confrontation in her voice, daring him to stop her. He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself in check.

"Khushi, no. I don't want you to go to the protest."

"I am going, Arnav."

She defiantly met his gaze even as he towered over her, imposing. His eyes flashed with a spark of anger that he quickly masked. She could see his fingers pressing into his palm, digging into the skin.

"Khushi, I thought that after last time, you would not do this again."

He spoke in measured words, fixing her with an unwavering gaze.

He couldn't lose this argument.

He couldn't lose her.

Didn't she understand how dangerous this was?

She had seen that look in his eyes. A shiver ran up her spine, recalling the last time his eyes had held that calculating glint.

"Marry me, Khushi."

His words from that day rang in her ears. He was gearing up for a battle, and she could feel the tension in the room, pulled tight like a string on the verge of snapping.

"I did not ask you to play my Knight in dented armor last time, Arnav."

Her words hurt.

His anger flared, and he leaned closer, his jaw clenched tightly.

"I wouldn't have had to, if you hadn't gotten yourself in goddamn trouble."

He took a step back, putting distance between them as she felt the rush of cold air. She felt a sharp pang of hurt at his accusatory tone. His eyes were hard, devoid of the warmth they usually held towards her.

"Is that why you married me, Arnav?"

The words were out before she could stop them. She hadn't realized how long she had wanted to ask him, the question burning in the back of her mind. Her heart pounded against her chest as she waited for his response, her stomach knotted tightly.

Had he only married her because he wanted to protect his family?

She took a sharp breath. The idea of that being true stung painfully.

He looked at her incredulously, hurt flickering in his eyes, and she immediately regretted the words.

But it was too late to take them back.

"I would certainly hope that you know the answer to that question."

He said quietly.

But it was as if he had yelled it, making her heart clench painfully. She could feel the tears stinging at the back of her eyes, and she looked away, blinking rapidly. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

"I am going, Arnav."

She turned to leave, fuming. He felt the panic rise, the din rising in his head.

No!

What if she died, like NK had?

The fear clawed at him, the breath leaving his body. He had never been more terrified, panic rising like the tide as it drowned him in a wave.

He couldn't let her die.

He wouldn't.

He grabbed her arm, whirling her around to face him.

"You will not!"

He hissed, his dark eyes glimmering with anger. She wrenched her arm out of his grip, breathing heavily as she lifted herself up to meet his eyes.

"Tumhe kyun faraq padtha hai?"

"Of course mujhe faraq padtha hai, damnit! What if you die? Don't you realize that?"

He yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders, breathing heavily. She stared at him with round eyes, feeling his fingers pressing into the skin. He let her go roughly and she stumbled back, staring at his back.

"You will not go."

He said, his back still to her. His commanding tone incensed her, and she forced him to turn to look at her, her eyes flashing.

"You cannot stop me! I know you don't like the resistance, but this is my country and I will fight for it!"

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, letting out a sharp huff of irritation.

"Damn it, Khushi, this isn't about your ridiculous resistance movement! "

Her eyes widened with shock and hurt, and knew he had made a mistake. He cursed mentally, hastily attempting to backtrack.

"Khushi, I didn't mean-"

"I don't care, Arnav!"

Her voice was shrill, cutting him off swiftly.

"I don't want to hear about how ridiculous this is, how frivolous this is, or anything else that you have to say! I'm tired of it, I'm so sick and tired of hearing you put it down again and again."

"Khushi, I-"

"I lost my friend to this movement, I lost him and I couldn't save him!"

She paused, her breath shuddering and unsteady. Her throat hurt, blood rushing through her ears, drowning out everything else.

"Nikhil died for us, for this ridiculous movement'! I will not, I refuse to hear another word against this."

Tears were streaming down her face, her voice trembling. He felt the guilt weighing him down, knowing he had hurt her deeply. He reached out to her, but she moved away from him, smearing her tears as she wiped at them with the back of her palm.

"I am going."

She said, turning on her heel. He heard the door slam behind her, ominous as it rang in the otherwise silent room.

*********

He sat at his desk, the words blurring in front of his eyes. He swore roundly under his breath, his head pounding.

He hadn't been able to focus, the unsettled dread tugging at the pit of his stomach. He ran a hand through his hair, her words ringing in his ears. He could hear the chaos from outside, the people screaming and yelling.

"Arnav, where is Khushi?"

He heard his father's voice from behind him, and stiffened, irritated.

"I don't know. She said she was going out."

He heard the quick click of his walking stick, then felt Ashok's hand on his shoulder, forcibly turning him around. His father was panicked, an anger in his eyes that he rarely saw.

"Papa?"

"Where is Khushi?"

He asked again, his voice louder. Arnav stood up, reaching out to calm him as his breathing grew labored.

"Papa, calm-"

"Is she out there? Is Khushi out there?"

"Yes, Papa, she is, she had gone out-"

"They're using lathis out there, Arnav, it's a lathi charge!"

His father's voice rang in the room, bouncing against the walls. Arnav felt as if the air had been knocked out of him, fear coursing through his veins.

Khushi.

"Go!"

His father yelled, breathing heavily.

"Ashokji?"

Arnav heard his mother come up behind him, but he didn't wait as she came up to her his father, gently seating him down in the chair and admonishing him for stressing himself.

He broke into a run as he pushed open the front door, panic gripping him fiercely, his heart thudding loudly against his chest.

Khushi.

He had to find her.

He couldn't lose her.

He couldn't.

*********

Note: And that's where I'll leave you for today. I hope you liked it! Please let me know what you thought through a like or a comment.

As always, please follow @ipkchotidesi on Twitter or PM me your email for update notifications.

If you would prefer to read on the blog, click HERE.

Just an extra note:

A few people were wondering how deep Khushi's feelings for NK were. I hope this chapter answered that. Losing a friend who has been by your side for so long is hard, and the devastation is unimaginable.

Love always,

Choti.

Another tearjerker update! 😭😭😭

Its good to see Khushi and NK's history. How they became good friends. This helps us understand the depth of her grief. You can understand why she has to go to the protest. To keep the movement going.

I feel for Arnav. To his wife in so much grief. You can understand why he doesn't want to her to go the protest because he can't live without her.

How will they overcome their differences?

I have feeling Arnav is going to get injured while trying to save Khushi.