3 | ArHi FF: Resistance | COMPLETE | PAGE 74 | UPDATED 2/6 - Page 42

Originally posted by: Arshi67

When will their garden bloom for hamesha?

The door creaked as Khushi opened it, her footsteps loud against the floor. She stood in the doorway to the room, staring out at the empty room. Memories flooded her mind, forcing their way past the dam she had carefully built up.

She could hear Nikhil's voice, see him standing in the middle of the room surrounded by people listening to him in rapture. She could feel his passion for independence, the power in his voice.

Her eyes flew open, half expecting to see him standing there.

She felt the piercing disappointment when he wasn't, the emptiness in the room even more acute. She walked over to the radio, sliding against the wall as she sat down. She leaned her head against it, closing her eyes as the sadness enveloped her.

She was tired of fighting.

It had brought her nothing but anguish, traversing a tunnel that seemed to have no end. She took a slow, deep breath, feeling the sting at the back of her throat as tears snuck past her eyelashes.

She had lost her parents, NK, and then... had almost lost-

She fought against the thought, but it pushed its way through, relentlessly reminding her of what she had come so close to losing.

She had nearly lost Arnav because of this fight.

If she had been just a little farther up, if she had walked away just a little bit earlier, if he had come upon a different police officer, if he had-

The train of what ifs barreled through, whipping past her.

She couldn't fathom the possibility of him... being gone.

She couldn't lose Arnav.

Breath whistled through her teeth. She reminded herself of the words that had become her solace.

He was here. He was okay.

Her stomach slowly unknotted as she repeated them. A resigned quiet settled in the air.

Why was she fighting?

She wondered. She had been fighting for so long, clutching the elusive dream to herself. It had become her light in her darkest times, given her purpose when she felt there was none.

But she had forgotten what had sparked her passion. It had become a given, another fact of life.

She was a part of the resistance movement.

She had been satisfied with that.

She heard footsteps approaching and her head jerked up, meeting the gaze of Anjali. Khushi could see the streaks of red in her eyes as Anjali walked closer. She slowly sat down, closing her eyes tightly. Khushi joined her, and they sat in silence for a long moment.

"I miss him."

Anjali uttered, staring straight ahead. Her chest hurt, a slow squeeze that made her limbs heavy with sadness.

"I keep- I keep thinking that he'll be here, that we'll see him when we walk into this room."

Anjali took a long breath, pressing her eyes closed.

"This is what he wanted. He wanted to die fighting for his country. But it doesn't ease the pain, it just doesn't, not at all. I can't help but be angry at him for leaving us like this, leaving us alone, without him there to make this fight seem less bleak, to show us that light. I hate him for it and yet..."

Anjali took shallow breaths, her voice wavering. She bit back a burning sob, the grief debilitating. Anjali turned to her, her face wet with tears. Her mouth pursed as she closed her eyes shut tightly, the tears squeezing out of the cracks.

"I miss him, Khushi."

She whispered, letting the tears fall.

Her shoulders shook as her face contorted into a sob, tears running down into her blouse. Khushi leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Anjali.

"I do too, Anju."

They took solace in each other. They sat in exhaustion, spent from the tears and the gutting pain that never seemed to dull.

Anjali finally broke the silence, a sad smile on her face.

"Ajeeb hai, hai na? It's so... quiet." (It's odd, isn't it?)

She paused.

"It's always so energetic here, so full of life and... hope."

Her voice dropped on the last word, sadness tinging it. Anjali shook her head, silent for a poignant moment.

"Sometimes... I wonder why we're doing this."

"I do too."

Anjali looked up at Khushi, surprised.

"I do too, Anju."

She said more adamantly, pursing her lips in frustration.

"We've lost so much and yet... we're still fighting. I feel as if I have forgotten why, as if... I'm merely repeating words that have been said to me."

She turned to her with wet, fearful eyes, her voice like that of a child.

"I'm scared, Anju. I... I nearly lost Arnav. I can't lose him, Anju, I... I can't."

Khushi took a deep breath, falling silent. When she spoke next, her voice held a low note of conviction.

"But this is where I want to be. I want to see an independent India, and we will not see that without fighting for it."

She turned to Anjali, torn.

"Is this how I'm supposed to feel? Is this... does this mean the end?"

Anjali shook her head silently, walking up to her friend and drawing her into a hug. Khushi leaned her head against Anjali's shoulder, succumbing to her thoughts once more.

She had told people again and again why it mattered to her, but the words sounded hollow to her ears today.

Why did it matter to her?

"This isn't the end, Khushi. This is your fight- this is our fight, and we will win it."

Anjali pulled back, her jaw tightening in a way Khushi had seen in Arnav. Khushi squeezed her hand tightly, renewed by her words. A familiar excitement flickered within her as she held Anjali's gaze, the silent promise of fighting together.

She turned and looked out at the room.

It wasn't empty.

It was waiting to be filled.

Voices from her memories flooded the room, rising to a crescendo until all she could hear was the powerful call to freedom, pride lacing every word.

A powerful thrill swept through her.

This is my country.

She blinked back the tears, hearing the words in NK's voice.

NK had given his life for freedom. He had given himself so that they could see a free India.

She swallowed thickly, closing her eyes as the faces of the people lost in this fight appeared in her mind

She couldn't lose hope, not now.

She was fighting for them.

*********

She was curled up in the corner of the couch in their room, her face buried in a book. He knew she wasn't reading, blankly turning the pages. She swallowed thickly, pinching the bridge of her nose as she let out a slow breath. She placed her face in her hands, sighing as she looked up.

He walked over to her, sitting down beside her and taking her hand in his. Her lashes swept up as she looked up at him, giving him a tired smile.

"Tum theek ho?"

He asked quietly, reaching out to brush a piece of hair behind her ear. She nodded, exhaling slowly.

"I don't know what to do."

She finally said. She turned towards him, her eyes scanning his face.

"I don't know what to do, Arnav. I want to protest, I want to be out on the front lines but I just-"

She let out a breath of frustration, closing her eyes. He could see them rolling up behind her lids, tension writ on her face. When they opened again, they were wet with tears.

"I've worked so long for this. I thought this is what I wanted to do, I felt like I had a purpose."

She fell quiet, leaning against him. Her voice quavered as she spoke, and a resigned sigh escaped her. He heard the exhaustion in her voice, the fight gone. She rubbed weary fingers across her temple, a sardonic chuckle escaping her.

"But I've lost so much to this, Arnav."

She looked off at some arbitrary point against the wall, continuing.

"I lost my parents. I lost a man who I considered one of my closest friends, the man who inspired me to fight and I almost lost-"

She stumbled, her voice cracking.

"You almost lost...?"

He prompted, inviting a deep breath. She looked up at him, reaching to cup the side of his jaw as she swallowed.

"I almost lost you."

She whispered. She didn't fight the emotions, allowing them to spill over unabated into the air. He remained silent, simply holding her.

"I thought this would be the way to prevent myself from ever feeling that emptiness, that debilitating pain that comes with loss. Instead, I was rewarded with more of it."

"Perhaps fighting on the front lines isn't for you anymore. It's dangerous, Khushi, and-"

"I don't need a lecture, Arnav."

She interrupted sharply, frustration evident.

She shook her head, smiling thinly.

"Perhaps it is a sign that this... this is where my journey ends."

His fingers tightened around her shoulder, cradling her to himself. She curled into him, light extinguished from her eyes. They remained in silence for a long while, lost in their own thoughts.

Wasn't this what he had wanted?

His mind reminded him. The question didn't fit, unease flashing through him. It didn't feel right to him.

But she would be safe this way. She wouldn't go out on any more harebrained protests, putting her life at risk.

He looked down at the woman in his arms, curled up against his chest. Her despondency seeped into him.

He didn't like seeing her like this.

But he couldn't let her go out there again. He couldn't lose her.

He adjusted himself to let her sit more comfortably against him. He could feel the soft rise and fall of her body as her head nestled into his shoulder, the smell of lavender enveloping him.

There had to be some way that...

His eyes fell on the bookshelf. A flicker of an idea lit within him, and he smiled slowly as it began to take shape.

"No, Khushi, this isn't where your journey ends."

He interrupted the silence. He felt her shift against him, looking up curiously. He adjusted himself, turning to face her as he shook his head vehemently.

"This isn't where your journey ends, Khushi. It's where your journey diverges into a new path."

She stilled, listening.

"Maybe there's a different spot for you in this fight."

She cocked her head, her brow furrowing.

"What?"

He hesitated. He took her hands in his, drawing her to look at him.

"Sarojini Naidu."

Khushi stared at him blankly, confused.

"She was the first Indian woman to become president of the INC. 1925."

Surprise entered her eyes and he smiled wryly, answering her question before she could ask.

"I was nine when it happened, and I was old enough to remember her role in the Salt March in Gujarat. She was also arrested for Quit India, wasn't she?"

She nodded, still taken aback by his knowledge on the subject.

"Haan, but..."

"Why does this matter?"

She simply raised an eyebrow, waiting.

"What if you joined the political side, instead? Work with Aman, take a more active role in building an independent India."

He felt the change in her, the spark entering her eyes. He released a little breath of relief at the sight, restrained curiosity working its way back onto her face. He carried on, a smile pulling at his lips when he saw the eager light that entered her.

"Become a part of INC, Khushi. You don't have to be at the protests to make a difference."

"But I want to be at the protests."

She responded, a flare of irritation in her eyes. He bit his tongue, refraining from a sharp retort.

"That's where I'm meant to be, Arnav! Fighting on the front lines. This will only make me deal with the endless bureaucracy that comes with politics, and I do not want to do that."

"But you'll be safer."

He said softly. Understanding filled her eyes, and she looked at him for a long moment. She sighed, tearing her gaze away from his as her smile faded slightly.

"I don't know, Arnav, I just..."

She pursed her lips, her words fading away as she slipped back into thought.

"I want to be on the ground, I want to be where the fight is. Would I have that with the political side?"

Arnav hesitated.

"It would be different."

"If anything, it would be worse."

She laughed ruefully.

"There will be that bureaucracy you're always complaining about, corruption, inefficiency... no, Arnav, I don't know if I want to do this. I want to be on the ground."

"Khushi, you've wanted to see an independent India for years. You'll be a part of building it up, from scratch."

"Yes, but I'll be forced to be diplomatic with the Britishers, I'll have to make nice with people who are wily and willing to do anything for power, and I don't want to do that! It'll be frustratingly inefficient-"

"You won't know until you join. Perhaps you will be the one to change the inefficiency-"

She cut him off with a disenchanted chuckle, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, because one person will definitely make a difference."

"You used to believe so."

He murmured, challenging her to respond. She stilled, looking up at him. They stared at each other for a long moment, a heavy silence enduring.

"I still do believe that."

She whispered, a flare of determination in her eyes. He held her gaze, taking her hands even as she looked away, annoyed.

"If anyone can do this, it is you."

She closed her eyes, letting out a long, slow breath, letting his belief in her sink in. She looked back up at him. She searched his face, noting the worry that still hid in the lines around his mouth.

"Are you okay with this?"

She asked softly.

"I... I won't do it if you aren't okay with it, Arnav. I don't want- I can't-"

She sighed in irritation as she stumbled over the words, pausing.

"You're my husband."

She said simply, looking up at him.

"And I will not do this if you..."

She trailed off, watching him. He remained quiet for a long time. She could him struggle, emotions flitting across his face.

"No, I want you to do this."

He said finally. She watched him uncertainly as he continued. She could see him thinking, coming to terms with it.

"I will be honest. I am not entirely comfortable with it."

She opened her mouth but he shook his head, stopping her.

"Khushi, I may not believe that independence will be the best for India."

He saw the brief flash of irritation in her eyes and paused, squeezing her hand. He smiled softly, speaking with conviction.

"But it is your passion, and it's important to you. Therefore, it is important to me too."

He fell silent for a moment before continuing.

"I don't agree with you. I still do not believe that the movement has the necessary structure to succeed. However, that was not my issue with you being a part of it. I wasn't against you going out there to fight for it that day, Khushi, I was terrified that something would happen to you."

She squeezed his hand when she heard the slight tremble in his voice, and he took a deep breath to steady his emotions.

"However, if being a part of the political side will make you happy, then... I just want you safe. I will support you, Khushi. I always will."

She hesitated, her uncertainty persisting.

"I fell in love with your passion, Khushi, despite the fact that I didn't agree with you. For your spirit, your unbreakable belief that there is hope as long as people fight for what they believe in. The Khushi I fell in love with would do this because she believes. That's what I love about you."

He said. A slow, brilliant smile lit up her face as she wrapped her arms around him. She buried her face in his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent deeply as a tear snuck between her lashes.

"Thank you, Arnav."

She whispered, pulling back. He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"You're my wife."

He said simply, smiling. She was unable to hold herself from reciprocating, sliding her fingers through his.

*********

Later that night, she walked into their room, searching for him. She saw him in the closet, fiddling with the ties the bandage around his wrist. A frown creased his face as he winced in pain, biting his lip. She heard him take in a long, deep breath, closing his eyes, steeling himself for the inevitable ache that was to follow.

Arnav reached to pull off the bandage in a swift movement. His eyes shot open when instead, his hand brushed against a small, soft hand already there. The sharp pang that shot up his arm was in no way related to the way she was painstakingly pulling off the bandage, the pain from the wound slipping to the back of his mind.

His eyes remained on her face as she worked, watching as her hair fell in front of her eyes as she leaned down, mesmerized by the way her nimble fingers pulled away the bandage. The burning pain that was there whenever he pulled it away faded to the back of his mind, the front occupied by her.

He hissed when her fingers brushed against the sensitive skin at the edge of his wound and she looked up, scanning his face worriedly. He merely met her gaze. There was such intent in his eyes, and the world seemed to still for a moment.

Her eyes widened in understanding, and she took in a sharp breath when she recognized the emotion simmering there. Her toes curled against the cool floor, their breathing suddenly too large for this space.

Her heart raced as they stood there in the closet, unable to look away from each other. She closed her eyes in anticipation as his other hand moved up to brush her hair back, sliding down to cup her neck as he slanted his lips across hers.

She went up on her tiptoes, clutching his shirt as his mouth opened over hers, drawing her closer. Their soft sighs seemed to be off in the distance, urging them closer still. She could feel the heat of his body on her waist, his fingers curling at the base of her neck.

She could feel the urgency in his kiss, his low moan vibrating in her mouth as his hands pressed her against him. His lips had trailed away to her jaw before coming back to her mouth, kissing her desperately. She gasped his name into his shoulder as his teeth gently nipped at her neck, and he drew back to her lips, taking them between his, before pulling away.

There was silence for a long moment, their noses brushing against each other. He could feel the heat of her breath against his lips, his hand still tangled in her hair.

She reached forward, lifting his glasses off of his face and turning to place them to the side. She looked down at her hands, expertly sliding the bangles off of her wrist. They fanned out on the table, a sparkling chain of color in the dim light of their room. She touched a finger to the edge of one, sliding it down the rim, a faint smile playing at the edge of her lips.

The memory of the nervous bob of his Adam's apple warmed her. She let herself linger in the feeling, savoring them as they melted through her.

He loved her.

She looked back at him, drawing a sharp breath at the simmering caramel eyes that met hers. She walked closer, running her thumb over the dimple on the side of his nose. Her fingers followed his lips, and she felt his lips kiss the pads gently.

She raised her gaze to meet his, a soft smile touching her lips.

"I love you."

She murmured. She could hear the slight hitch in his breathing as her words settled over them, filling the air.

"I love you."

She pronounced, her eyes misty.

"I love-"

Her words were swallowed by the fervent press of his lips against hers, his hands cupping her head and tilting it up to meet him. She mirrored his motions, drawing her thumbs across the stubble that shadowed his cheekbones, saying the words into his mouth again and again.

His hands fumbled with the hooks on her blouse as he undid them, dropping her pallu to the ground as he moved to kiss her again. He felt goosebumps creep up on her skin underneath his fingers, her stomach flattening as she drew a sharp breath in when his teeth grazed the edge of her bra.

"I love you."

She tugged the kurta over his head, dropping it on the ground as he lifted her up into his arms, holding her to himself.

She stroked her fingers through the hair on his chest, murmuring his name on a breath of air as he fused their lips together. His fingers fisted in her hair, parting the strands with his hands as his lips moved over hers.

He discarded the rest of his clothes, sliding the petticoat down her legs. She shivered, reaching for his warmth and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

He relished the pleasure that lingered on her face, arching into his touches. She ran her hands over the corded muscles of his back. She could feel him tremble underneath her fingers, desire coursing through her as she molded herself to him.

He paused, leaning back to look at her. There was no hesitance in her eyes, only brimming over with love for him.

"I love you too."

He murmured hoarsely. She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she drew him down, kissing him deeply. They gazed at each other, a slow smile pulling at their lips.

"Jaanti hoon," she whispered.

Note: And that's where I leave you for today! There's an epilogue left, which I will post next Wednesday as usual. I will have a longer note with the epilogue. Thank you so much for your support- please let me know what you thought with a like or a comment!

I loved how you moved from her feelings of "an empty room" to a "room waiting to be filled". The shifting of perception from desolation to a tiny spark of hope.

There are moments in life when you do question the direction you've chosen, however passionately you believe in the goal. I liked how Arnav understood that and encouraged her to look at alternate ways to achieve her mission. It would have been easy to persuade her to stay at home at this point, but he understands her. The fire that burns in her is a part of her, a part of the whole whom he loves.

They will always be there for the other. Love each other. "hum jaante hain"

I'm sad to see this story come to an end Choti. It has been quite a journey my love, seeing you grow as a writer. Will be waiting for the epilogue with mixed feelings. Sadness at the story ending and happiness at your achievement. I'm so so very very proud of you. ❤️

The bad and sad reality of life is that all good things have to come to an end. I will deal with my realities later but I have to say that the end you have brought this story to was beautiful and perfect in so many ways.

A few moments of silence, the remembrance by the beloved, an offering of a few tear drops, an empty hall contrasting the filled one, and more importantly the way he is still living on in the fighting spirit that he helped lit in so many people - that was a perfect tribute for every freedom fighting martyr and NK deserved every bit of it.

Coming to my favorite cupcakes (yes, I am talking about Arshi🤡), I enjoyed every bit of it from the "what if's" to all the way to the closet kiss👏. The realizations for both of them were a welcome change and setup a perfect base for the cupcake. Finding their purposes was the perfect filling and rediscovering their love was just the icing they needed. And the closet kiss that makes the pain disappear and our hearts melt, that had to be the perfect cherry on the top. Now you tell me if they are the perfect cupcakes or not🤪.

Lastly, it would be a miss not to appreciate your guts in picking a story from an era and mold it with such conviction that made our hearts flutter and minds wander with every chapter. It takes a talent of a very special kind and I am glad that you, our favorite Choti proved that there is nothing choti about this desi🤗.

Looking forward to the epilogue and as always will look forward to your comments on other stories. But, I know this temporary arrangement will only last only until you next. Which I am hoping to be very very soon