Arshi FF: A Sprinkle of Stardust [Chp 22, Pg 73 25/07] - Page 38

"Khushi," he walked into her room, the rays of the morning sun piercing through the opening in the curtains, "aren't you going to talk to your bauji?" He watched her as she straightened the last few strands of her hair, pretending not to have heard what he had said, her lips in a thin line. He walked towards her and placed his hands on her shoulder, standing behind her facing the mirror. "Khushi, avoiding the question won't help anyone," he mumbled close to her ear, his voice concerned yet understanding. He knew that Khushi thrived on all of her relationships and that although she kept up her pretences she would soon break apart again from this severed relationship. He watched her face through the mirror as it fell then she recovered again, creating a disinterested face.

"Arnav I've told you I'm not talking to him. I've made up my mind," she walked away, avoiding his eyes.

He placed his hand on her shoulder again and sliding it down her arm slowly turned her around. "Khushi, just talk to him once, he's still your father," he spoke softly, moving a tendril of her hair back and tucking it behind her ear. She continued to keep her gaze down away from him and her lips trembled ever so slightly as she tried to keep her nonchalance up. "I'm sure he didn't expect any of this to happen," he continued but to no avail. She continued to keep her eyes distant as if she was barely paying attention to what he was saying. "Okay, well think about it," he finally mumbled resting his palm on her cheek and kissing her forehead tenderly. He couldn't force her, maybe she would come around in her own time.

Her heart yearned to talk with her father but she couldn't displace the betrayal. How he had literally sold her off for his own gain. She couldn't get over the fact that her life seemed to be worth so little and no excuse seemed enough to justify that. At the back of her mind she thought she should be grateful, that at least he had brought up an orphan as his own and she was compelled to believe that maybe that had been her time to pay back the debt. She closed her eyes momentarily, taking in a deep breath as she attempted to stop tears from falling.

"Okay okay jaan, I'm sorry," he whispered, his lips still against her forehead. "Don't you need to go to work?" She nodded back, sighing deeply and putting her arms around him hugged him, laying her head against his chest.

****

"Sir we can't keep on giving her sedatives," Aman repeated for the second time to a very unresponsive Arnav.

Arnav scrunched his eyes shut and pinched the skin between his brows, unable to find any way out. How was he to keep Arundathi away, keep Khushi safe but not kill Arundathi in the process. It's not like he hadn't considered murder, but maybe those morals were still intact. She had still brought him up, taken him in and for that he would forever be indebted. And maybe a part of his heart still refused to find fault in her and only blamed himself. There were times when he was younger he had considered dying better, he had questioned why his mother had died leaving him alive to pay off her deeds. But then he didn't know what kind of person his mother had been, what had happened and he would never know the complete story.

A memory:

"Arundathi! Do you mind telling me why Arnav has a split lip and why he seems so distant lately?" Avinash's voice was stern, commanding as he took a hold of Arundathi's arm and spun her around to him. Arnav watched from behind the doorway, not sure of what to feel as she flinched in pain. "Avinash let me go!" She exclaimed, her eyes dark and glowering. "Why the hell are you asking me?! He must have fell and hurt himself somewhere," she rolled her eyes in defiance and removing his hand from hers attempted to walk away only to be stopped by him again. "Arundathi look at me when I'm talking to you! Don't give me half-formed answers! You and I both know very well that that isn't something you get from falling over. And this isn't the first time, every time I come back he's got some sort of bruise and these days he hardly ever talks to anyone. Just mopes about the place, he doesn't eat on time and he almost jumps out of his skin when someone so much as speaks to him!" He trailed off, the concern for his eldest son spilling out of him in a frenzy of words. Arnav felt a slight inkling of happiness as he listened on, the feeling that at least someone cared and then the feeling that maybe his mother would get told off today for hurting him, the silent yearning of a child for a little justice, but what followed suddenly brought his world crashing down. He watched in horror as Arundathi turned around suddenly, her face evil and contorted and her sudden change even caused Avinash to take a few steps back. "Well Avinash he is not my son!" She finally screamed out. "You should be thankful that I brought your useless good for nothing mistake into this house! And I don't give a damn whether he lives or dies! His purpose has been fulfilled and he can get to hell for all I care!" She exclaimed, her voice cutting and harsh as Avinash's eyes widened in shock as to the degree of cruelty his wife seemed to display. He closed his eyes momentarily, cursing himself inwardly for his moment of weakness, "Arundathi he is just a child," his voice was almost pleading. "Well he is not my child!" Arnav felt tears fill his eyes then fall down in a stream as his whole life suddenly came crumbling down in front of him. She wasn't his mother, her words her actions suddenly made a lot more sense. Who was he then?

A memory (a few years later):

He stopped suddenly as he walked past the doorway with a book in hand, another argument was breaking off between his father and Arundathi. As he grew up the arguments had increased, his father had started staying away from home for longer amounts of time and Arnav constantly made attempts to not be around. He started spending more time in the library, or started going to his fathers office if he had nothing better to do. Curiosity got the better of him and he stood behind the pillar outside the door, listening in. Of course it would be about him, it always was. Somewhere at the back of his mind he even felt happy, that at least he was important to be talked about on a daily basis. "Arundathi don't you dare think that you can blame me alone for my actions!" Avinash threatened, standing behind a fuming Arundathi. "Oh and I'm to blame for you sleeping with that wh**e?!" She screamed turning around suddenly, her eyes bloodshot and furious. Avinash's face contorted to one of ruthless rage suddenly and he took a hold of her arm and twisted it behind her back, pulling her body towards his. "Shut up!" He growled, "if you and your scheming mother hadn't instigated my mother and broke off my marriage to Naina none of this would have happened!" He growled through gritted teeth. "I told you the day we got married and I'm telling you now! I have and always will love Naina and I will always regret being too much of a coward for giving you her place! You can never see anyone else happy and this is why Arundathi you will never be happy!"

And like that he only had little snippets of information about his mother; that she was his fathers only love, that she had been beautiful, that she had loved relentlessly. But she had left him and no matter how much his father had argued over him with Arundathi, it hadn't helped anyone and in the end he too had gone.

"Sir? Sir? Are you okay? Can you hear me?" Aman's voice suddenly broke Arnav out of his reverie.

"Yes Aman sorry. I honestly don't know what to do with her," he sighed, "just keep her tied up and occupied or something for now whilst I think of something," he mumbled quickly, then hearing the door click open quickly cut off the call.

****

"Arnav," she touched the muscular expanse of his skin, the darkened scars almost faded completely. His eyes widened slightly as he felt her finger trace lines down his back, down paths that he refused to re-visit at the worst of times. And he attempted to move away and quickly put his shirt on, but she turned him around towards herself, her golden orbs peering into his face and he had to look down to keep up his composure.

"Arnav what are those scars?" She questioned as he continued to look away, his brows knitted together, the expression on his face unrecognizable. "Arnav?" She tried again, holding his arm.

"Erm, it's nothing, just old scars," he dismissed, his voice quiet, "anyway get ready for dinner," he said finally looking at her and smiling, the reminder and the deep-rooted nature of the scars carefully masked. Then finally putting the shirt on walked out of the bedroom as Khushi watched on curiously at Arnav, his head slightly bowed down. Something was wrong and she wanted to know. Things were finally going well in her life but if he had problems she wanted to know them too. Coming to think about it now, she knew very little about his past.

He looked up as she walked into the room and cocked up an eyebrow, "Khushi aren't you going to get changed?" He questioned, there was still a rough edge to his face as the reminder of his scars brought back haunting memories and he desperately tried to shove them to the back of his mind. His eyes raised to hers and their gazes clashed, blazing caramel slowly glazing over against scorching hazel.

She took in his haggard expression, the scars on his back replaying over her mind, clawing at her thoughts and then his reaction to the mention of them. As though even though the scars were very old, touching them still hurt him. She was at his side within seconds, sitting herself next to him, she placed her palm on the side of his face as his eyes followed, then swung back to her face, slightly confused. "Do you want to talk about it sweetheart?" She questioned quietly, not wanting to force information out of him.

Watching her for several more seconds he sighed deeply, it was time. Sending his arm around her he brought her closer to himself as she tucked in her legs and snuggled into him. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, his jaw set and his hands clenched as he leaned his forehead against hers, "they are belt marks," he mumbled quietly, his voice an almost inaudible whisper. She moved back from him suddenly, her eyes widening in horror, but his eyes were distant as he looked towards a blank space on the wall. His fingers were tight on her skin, as if he was clutching on for dear life. "I.. I've had them since I was a kid," he stated, his voice breaking slightly. Her fingers clutched onto his shirt, "Aru...Arun," she struggled, her voice shaking with horror. She watched as he nodded slowly, still looking away, "Arundathi," he finished off the name for her, the mention of it not evoking any emotion within him. "You know Khushi for years I wondered why I was treated with such venom, why my own mother would trample all over me every opportunity she got and one day I found out," he gulped down tears as he continued, gradually detaching himself from everything that he felt. "And for a while I remember running away from it, convincing myself that I'd dreamt it all, but with it everything made sense. When papa wasn't there I wasn't allowed to eat with the rest of the family, I wasn't allowed to come out of my room unless I was required, I... I," he closed his eyes, trying to shun the pain of talking through it again. She sent her hand around his arm, tears streaking down her own face as she leaned against him, listening to him finally narrate a story he had hidden for too long. How his every word seemed painful, his constant heart-ache.

"I grew up constantly feeling unwanted, a disgusting painful reminder, a child conceived from a mistake, unloved, unneeded. And I was always reminded, I wasn't allowed to do well for myself, my every effort discouraged. And in the end I started hiding everything, my life became a dark mess." His hand encased hers now, as she slowly caressed his arm with her thumb and he continued to stare into blank space, his eyes glazed over, exhaling heavily every so often to keep his tears at bay.

~

And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter - they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long. - Sylvia Plath

~

"And then I came here and it helped as I finally had the opportunity to distance myself from it all. And there began a time when I tried to bury it all under excuses I could find, anything I could find. Alcohol, women, books, everything, I tried! But I couldn't and I formed this wall around myself, not letting anyone in. Too many things had happened for me to forget. The scars, not the physical ones, they soon faded but the ones left on my mind were unavoidable. But then you arrived," he turned towards her finally, his drowning chocolate brown eyes piercing into her own, the slow trace of a smile forming on his face and she moved her hand to his cheek once more, resting it there, urging for him to continue. He placed his own hand on her cheek, his fingers tender against her skin. "And you brought with you a happiness that I had never felt before and for too long a time I kept falling, kept falling through the happy bubble you created," he smiled softly at her. "But then papa fell ill and it all came crashing down again, and reality dawned back on me," his voice was a hoarse whisper now, more cracked as he struggled to stay strong, she nodded as more tears streamed down her face as she willed for him to continue, let it all out. "And I realised that I was never made to be loved, I didn't want you to know my ugly world, so I began distancing myself from you," he scrunched his eyes shut again and looked away, his hands falling from her face as she watched, her eyes widening again as his agony flashed through his eyes, every feature of his face. "I knew I could never give you the happiness that you deserved," her fingers slipped off of his face and clung to his shirt as she shook her head, trying to speak, her throat too dry to form words. "A.. Arnav that's not true," she managed to mumble, fresh tears gathering and dropping down her cheeks, "how could you..." She stopped mid-sentence as he turned towards her suddenly, his face taunt in determination. "Khushi don't you see," he suddenly exclaimed, his voice loud again, "don't you see this is all because of me? Aakash! Arundathi! Your father! Can't you see that I'm responsible?!" He exclaimed, causing her to stare at him dumbfounded at the sudden irruption of anger. "Can't you see the consequences my life has had on you?" He screamed standing up abruptly. But she was on her feet too, cupping his face in her hands she watched him for a second, anger, pain, regret all flickering through his face, sending her hand around his head she pulled him in to her embrace, bending his head on to her shoulder as she sent her other arm around his back. "Arnav can't you see that I'd forsake everything for you? That the purity of your heart is worth more than anything to me? That I'd give up everything."

"But I don't want you to!" He cut in, pulling out of her embrace, his pained eyes dark and determined. "I don't want you giving things up for me! I don't want the ugly shadows of my life on yours!"

"But I've already decided!" Her words were equally adamant as she looked straight at him. "Arnav I don't think you realise that if something happened to you I would rather give my life than stay alive. That you are what keeps me going, that I feel more than lost without you. I love you and you entirely and I don't care for any consequences," her words were a broken flurry as she spoke through her tears.

"But Khushi..." He tried only for her fingers to quickly fall on his lips, "Shh, Arnav I love you, that's all that matters," she mumbled as she pressed her forehead against his, her other hand trailing through his hair. "We love each other and that's all that matters," she whispered, placing her lips on his, pulling him into a slow passionate kiss. His arms slowly went round her, as he pressed her body to his, his lips weaving against hers, as their kiss ignited with their emotions, as she took in his misery, his every insecurity, his every nightmare and she vowed to fill his life with happiness, to always stand by a man who had broken down all his walls for her and the boy within him that had been through too much.

~ I love you. Remember. They cannot take it. - Lauren Oliver, Delirium ~