A/N: Hey guys! I am becoming so enamored with this couple Decided to pen down a one shot around the hook wala scene.
Hope you enjoy it. Would love to read your views ❤️
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Pallavi Deshmukh twirled off the dance floor, laughing unabashedly after a long time. She found little occasion to do so; the societal shackles of a widow too heavy for most things light hearted. Wiping the perspiration from her face, she passed by him.
Him. Raghav Rao. The bane of her existence.
He ignored her just like she skirted coolly past him. It was another kind of dance between them tonight. They had declared ceasefire for this one night of celebration. But she was on the edge, alert even now for his unscrupulous attacks. The man had no code of honor and he had proven that to her time and again.
She knew he paused to look back at her for a moment, before walking away. It unnerved her the way she could sense him these days. She felt like prey being stalked by a master predator. He observed her carefully for the slightest hint of weakness, waiting to strike from the shadows.
He was standing by the crowded bar now, raising his finger in the confident gesture of one who always gets what he wants. Sure enough, the bartender rushed over to replace his glass, ignoring the demands of other patrons.
Money was power. And power ran the world. Pallavi had learnt this lesson a long time back. It was even harder to forget when one’s nemesis was as powerful as the don of Hyderabad.
He caught her looking at him, an arrogant brow rising in a silent challenge. She averted her gaze quickly, fanning herself with her lehenga chunar. The function hall was becoming stuffy and sweltering. Beads of sweat were running down her back, making her feel gross and overheated.
She stole a look at him again, and then couldn’t look away. Her breath caught in her throat.
His gaze was transfixed on the bare skin of her waist, made more visible by the swinging chunar in her hands. She dropped the cloth quickly, glaring as his eyes lifted to hers questioningly. As if he had any right to protest her action. Hot color danced across her cheeks. The man was the most shameless person she had ever met! What was it with him and her waist? This was the second time she had caught him eyeing it as if hypnotized.
He gestured towards her, making a weird motion with his hands. She scowled, crossing her arms and raising her brow in blatant imitation of him. His nostrils flared in annoyance, a quirk she was becoming quite familiar with. He gestured again, impatiently pointing towards her, making a kind of locking motion and then patting his waist. She gave him another reproving glare, leaning casually against a pillar. Pallavi refused to be intimidated by whatever offensive gesture he was making now. He had the manners of a pig. She knew that already.
Raghav muttered some words under his breath, rising threateningly. She rolled her eyes, as if unimpressed with his mannerisms and colloquial profanity. He didn’t scare her with these theatrics anymore. There was a time when she had literally quaked at the sight of him. Had gone out of her way to avoid him. But no more. He wanted war, and she was going to give it to him a hundredfold. Pallavi was thirsting to get back the womanly pride that many before him had trampled over the years. She was a widow, not a doormat. And she would make an example out of this man as a warning for those who underestimated her.
He stalked towards her, holding her fearless gaze with one of his intense ones. People parted subconsciously to allow him to pass, sensing the presence of a magnificent beast in their midst. Magnificent, he was, she admitted reluctantly. Tall and broad shouldered, Raghav Rao embodied virile male beauty at its finest. He could have been a model had he not decided to make a career out of kidnapping hapless women and ruining their lives.
Why Bappa had decided to bestow this ruthless man with such a flawless face was beyond her comprehension. His skin was sun kissed, gleaming with good health under the lights. Her eyes traced the enviable cheekbones and the sharp jawline, a day’s stubble adding to his rakish charm. A perfectly straight nose lead to sensuous lips, curled unfortunately at present in a grimace. She sent an identical disdainful expression his way.
As he stopped in front of her, she couldn’t help but notice the thick eyebrows framing coal black eyes, the deepest shade she had ever seen. She suppressed a giggle, observing the heavy sooty eyelashes that cast long shadows on his sculpted cheeks. The fearsome don had the eyelashes of a Bollywood diva!
“What the hell are you smiling about?” demanded Raghav imperiously.
“Tumse matlab? Mera mooh, main kuch bhi karoon.” She maintained a nonchalant stance, knowing it would peeve him.
“Tumko kis baat ka itna attitude hai? Do you think I get some kind of pleasure in talking to you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I misunderstand your intention? Aren’t you seeking me out for some pleasant conversation then?”
He raised a finger near her face, startling her with the suddenness. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Pallavi Deshmukh…Tumhara zubaan bahot scissor ke tarah chalta hai aaj kal. Isko control mein rakho. Because if I get angry, you won’t be able to stand in front of me.”
Pallavi tsked, enjoying the volatile emotions playing on his expressive face. “Don saheb, main toh darr gayi. But tell me one thing – how many times are you going to recycle the same dialogue? ‘You won’t be able to stand in front of me.’ Think of something new, something more convincing. Because I have decided, you see. I will not just stand in front of you, but also stand against you and despicable people like you. Rok sako toh rok lena.”
Turning on her heel, she made to push past him. He caught her arm, spinning her around to face him. Before he could utter a word, she raised a hand. “Bas! I am least interested in hearing more of your threats. Jab dam hoga tum mein kuch karne ka, tab baat karenge. Tumhari har baat ka mooh tod jawab dena aata hai mujhe.”
Shaking off his hand, she strode towards her room, her gait confident and determined. A proud smile lifted the corners of her lips. After having passively listened to umpteen taunts from others over the years, she felt a deep satisfaction in besting someone like Raghav. It was a high like no other to see him gaping like a fish out of water these days. He would learn many lessons the more he grappled with her. One of them, she hoped, was humility.
As she made to close the door, a booted foot slid between the frames. She stared stunned as her adversary pushed it open aggressively. “What are you doing? Have you gone mad?” Pallavi couldn’t believe his gall. Even he wouldn’t be bold enough to barge into a woman’s room like this in the middle of a crowded function. Or maybe he was too enraged to care, she realized in trepidation.
He banged the door shut, locking it for good measure. “Raghav Rao! What the bloody hell are you doing?!” She screeched as he grabbed her arm again. “I will have you arrested for this, you-“ He pulled her against the dresser, wheeling her to face the mirror.
She could see how frightened she looked in its reflection, a huge man standing behind her menacingly. Waves of anger rolled off his body, the heat caging her like a frightened hare in the jaws of a wolf. Her stormy grey eyes were wide, searching his dark ones as they raked over her features.
“You,” he bit out, his nostrils flaring as he struggled to rein in his temper. “…are the most infuriating woman I have ever had the misfortune to meet! Tumko lagta hai main movie ka villain hai aur tum sacchai ki devi. Break out of your illusions, sweetheart.” He gave a short mocking laugh. “You and I…We are cast from the same mold. I can do so much worse to you, and I know you would retaliate. Bas main honest hai apne intentions ke baare mein and tum chup kar vaar karta hai. That makes you a duplicitous person, Pallavi Deshmukh, not the hero you think yourself to be.”
She turned, an angry retort on her lips. “Listen-“ He placed a hand over her mouth, shocking her into silence.
“Bas,” he whispered. “I am least interested in hearing any more of your tirades.” There was a strange light in his eyes as they looked down into hers. “We are alone. Jawab mujhe bhi dena aata hai. But that’s not what I came here for.”
She made a sound of protest as he leaned closer. He just smiled, reaching around her waist with his other hand. Pallavi squirmed, her whole body prickling with his proximity. A compelling scent of aftershave and earthy male invaded her space. It was too much. He was too much. His hand left a burning trail on her sensitive skin, even as the blackholes of his eyes pulled her into a sensory trance.
“I am going to remove my hand from your mouth,” he told her gently, his clean warm breath caressing her overheated skin. “Don’t scream, okay? The hook of your skirt isn’t fixed properly. I will sort that and then leave. No drama tonight, okay?”
As he removed his hand, she stood there gaping at him. Pallavi couldn’t have screamed even if she wanted to, so astonished was she at his words. He had come here to fix her hook? She turned dutifully as he instructed, staring at the handsome stranger in the mirror. She watched as he deftly adjusted the folds, his nimble fingers making quick work of the hooks.
A satisfied smile on his face, he met her inquisitive eyes in the mirror. “Don’t look so surprised. I may be the villain of your life, but itna bhi bura nahi hoon main.”
“Raghav, I…“ she fumbled, at a complete loss for words. “I don’t know what to say. Thank-“
He waved off her gratitude. “Now please thank you etcetera mat kehna mereko. Tumko suit nahi karta hai. Only angry beautiful...strong woman type roles suit you.”
“Beautiful?” she whispered, utter confusion on her countenance. “Me? I’m not…I’m not beautiful.”
She watched him bend towards her in the mirror, his jaw brushing against her shoulder. “I also called you ‘angry’ and ‘strong’,” he whispered near her ear. She shivered, a light blush staining her cheeks. “Do you only mind when I call you ‘beautiful’?” At her hesitant nod, he chuckled softly and straightened.
“As I said before, break your illusions,” he smirked, his hands slipping in his pockets. “You are a maddening hurricane of a woman, Pallavi Deshmukh. Your only fault is that it’s Raghav Rao’s world you have chosen to wreck. It’s game, set, match, sweetheart. Main bhi dekhta hai tum kitna aage jaata hai. But for now, I must take your leave.”
She swiveled as he opened the door. He paused at the threshold. Looking back at her, Raghav winked mischievously. “Good night…beautiful.”
And he shut it behind him, leaving a baffled Pallavi staring at the door long after he was gone.
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