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This one is for su(@sushups) who is an amazing dreamer. And for everyone who has wanted some rain romance! This is after that mehndi function where Annika cries and Omkara warns Gauri to stay away from his family issues.
Also, I'm very upset an badly in need of cheering up.
********
She is the gloomiest person on this planet right now. That is what she thinks as she takes quick steps towards the terrace until her gaze lands on someone more unhappy than herself: Annika. She looks beautiful, with mehndi painted hands and the shiny dress suiting her way more than her own did.
Even with tear-stained cheeks and kohl-mascara tracks visible on her plumpy face, she is a sight to behold. She is beautiful, inside out, the reason Shivay Singh Oberoi's heart beats for her.
The weather seems to be mirroring both their hearts: dark, heavy with faint traces of sunlight. It is beautiful and she is almost afraid of liking the the melancholy. The Gauri she used to be was always optimistic. She chases away the memories before they manage a good hold. Because right now, it is all about the woman she has come to consider as a sister.
"Bhaujaai?" she winces as the sound echoes in the silence, piercing the admirable surroundings like a knife. Her bhaujaai doesn't seem to hear her so she closes the distance with soft steps to place her hand on her shoulder.
"Gauri? Kya hua?" Annika zaps out of it quickly.
"Kuch nahi. Bas socha yaha aau. Aur phir yaha aap dikh gaye. To socha kyun na apni bhaujaai ke saath thoda waqt bitau?" she settles down beside Annika with a smile.
It doesn't do to be sad when other people are sad, that has always been her logic. Instead trying to cheer people up works much better. So she plasters a huge smile on her face as she looks up at Annika.
"Om bohot khushqismat hai ki use tum mili ho Gauri. Tum bohot achi ho," the older woman turns to look at her.
"Hum to bohot ache hai. Par vo to Sadu Singh Oberoi hai," she makes a face before continuing,"Aap bhi bohot achi ho bhaujaai. Bade bhaiyya bohot naseeb wale hai."
A frown forms on her face at the mention of Shivaay and Gauri notices it immediately. But Omkara's warning of staying away from his family issues stop her from commenting.
So instead, she satisfies herself by saying,"Hume aap par yakeen hai bhaujaai. Pura bharosa hai aap par."
Annika's face takes an unidentifiable expression as she looks at the girl she has known barely for days, who seems to have overwhelming amount of trust on her. "Mere devar ki buraay kar ke ab maska laga rahi ho mujhe?" she smiles, just to see the light plug on in her eyes.
"Ab Sach to Sach hi hoga na," Gauri pouts as the sudden pounding of rain drowns the rest of her sentence. Annika laughs at that while Gauri smiles in truimph.
"Hume na baarish me naachna bohot pasand hai. Chaliye na," she is on her feet a moment later, tugging on Annika's hand incessantly. Annika laughs loudly before jerking herself free from the hold of her devrani and running off to stand under the roof of the water tank, saving herself from being drenched in the sudden outpour. The said devrani quite happily stays in the rain, uncaring of the thunder while Annika shudders at the loud sound and the quick flash of light.
Gauri happily twirls in the rain not even paying attention to the darkened skies, pulling off some of her favourite Salman moves. It is finally relieving to be abele to do something she has enjoyed in her past life. Past life; even the word seems distant as she reflects on the time she has spent in Bareilly before meeting the savage hurricane, who also happens to be her pati parmeshwar. She shirks his thought away as soon as it creeps up, wanting to enjoy the moment of freedom. And that is exactly is why she fails to notice the man of her thoughts walking towards her with determined steps.
********
He has seen Riddhima in just a little more than nothing without batting an eye. Yet it is his wife dressed in a modest but almost backless dress that sends his blood rushing south. Innocence radiates from her as she whirls around happily in the rain. In that moment, he regrets every single harsh thing he has ever told her with a vehement desire to apologise.
He has been standing there for a long time, trying hard to supress his anger at seeing her do the very thing he has asked her not to do. But then, gradually he had noticed the change in Annika's expressions before she had finally laughed. His anger had melted off, giving way to something he doesn't want to understand. Within moments, his wife is trying to pull her to her feet before breaking into a jig alone. There is the slight cham - cham of her huge anklets, audible over the pattering of the rain as she moves her feet in a rhythm. Ignoring Annika, he walks over to her with sure steps before pulling her towards himself with a tug.
She is stunningly beautiful and he would be a fool to deny that, he knows that.
There is lust, for sure, he acknowledges as her soft features slam against his hard ones. But there is something else too. Something he is unable to identify, chaining him to the deep pools of her eyes. And that is what terrifies him even as he spins her around once, keeping up with her dance before bringing her flush against himself again, his hand settling on the familiar territory of her tiny waist.
"Bhaujaai dekh lengi, please," she says softly.
"unhe hi to dikhana hai," his fingers trail over her spinal cord.
"Gharwaalo ko kyu batana hai?" she asks as she struggles in his hold. It is a good question, but all thoughts fly out of his head the moment he looks down to see her red tainted cheeks. The proof of the effect of his proximity, it is a kick to his male pride. He hurriedly turns her just slightly as he notices Annika leaving, wanting to hold her just a little longer.
She expects a kiss when he bends down, it has been routine now the fake romance. But his lips instead land hotly on her neck, right at the meeting point of her neck and shoulder; and she promptly forgets how to breathe. He smirks as she stiffens in his arms while he moves just a little, deliberately grazing her soft skin with his stubble enjoying the effect he has on her.
His fingers drum tunelessly against her spine moving higher until they are tugging at the dori tied across her shoulder. Satisfaction settles deep inside him as his deepset desire, a desire he has had since he had seen that dress on her, of undoing the dori is fulfilled. She starts squirming in his arms again as his actions become clear.
"Kya kar rahe hai aap?" she mutters.
He chooses to stay silent, dragging his hand to her shoulder and pushing the hindering fabric away slightly with ease to access more of her porcelain skin. It is wrong, he knows that, but then she is tempting. And he has never been a saint.
His lips follow the path of his fingers, making her fingers dig into his shoulder painfully. Her response encourages him enough to let his teeth join in on the fun, scratching the satin of her collarbone. He splays his icy cold hand between her shoulderblades, stopping the dress from dropping further than he wants to. She shudders in his arms, moreso due to the cold, bringing him back to the painful realisation of her drenched state. Though it is hard to hear over the loud pounding of the rain, the chattering of her teeth too becomes quite evident, dampening his mood and reminding him of their position.
He pulls back from her, eyes lazily taking in her thoroughly wet form. The clothes stick to her body deliciously, revealing more than they conceal in the wet state. It stirs up a feeling of fierce possessiveness in him, a want to be the only person to see her in this state. It is strong enough to prompt him to shrug off his equally wet jacket and wrap her up in it before sweeping her off her feet.
Ignoring her protest that she can very much manage to walk, he starts towards their room, all the while in conflict with his mind and body about the woman in his arms.
********
Moment nikal gaya, I know guys. But I was too busy to complete this satisfactorily. Hope you guys enjoyed it. If you didn't, well, enjoy the beautiful climate then!
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