SaiRat OS: A Promise of Fire

A/N: A reimagining of Sai and Virat's life ahead, filled with angst, romance and a sweet promise of fire 😉

If you like it, please do comment. Your feedback is all I need to keep penning these pieces ❤️

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A Promise of Fire

“Aap yahan kya kar rahe hain?”

Sai Joshi stood in the doorway, taken aback by the sight of ACP Virat Chavan in her modest hostel room. She closed the door as he glanced up, grim resolve stirring behind dark eyes. In his khakhi uniform, he seemed larger than life sitting on the edge of her bed. She had always been in awe of the aura it gave to those who donned it, like her martyred father.

And just like that, at the thought of her beloved Aaba, the shield of blessed numbness deserted her. For the first time, in many weeks, Sai was acutely aware of the lonely road she travelled. With no family, limited scholarship funds and sheer will for company, she had gathered the last shards of her self-respect and moved on. The unending days of humiliation at Chavan Niwas were long behind her.

It was a blessing that the demanding pace of the medical coursework left her little time to dwell on the emptiness of her life. Her days were full. But the nights, they were the worst. When the world lay in sweet slumber, Sai thought of the husband who had broken her heart. In the initial days, various plots with hurtful words had consumed her mind. But slowly, she began to reminisce. And with reminiscence emerged tiny bittersweet details, about the man she had married to fulfil her Aaba’s last wish.

She hadn’t expected Virat to be here this evening. It left her feeling blindsided, despite having imagined this exact scenario countless times. How many different ways had she created the words that would fall between them? A parting that would be soft and graceful, tinged with wistful fondness. And yet, now that he was here, she was tongue tied. A sudden urge to rush into his arms overwhelmed her with shocking intensity. In how many dreams had she accepted and banished him from her life?

As Sai stood there, a hand hovering in indecision over the door handle, the subtle changes in her room became noticeable. Her long-suffering plants had been adjusted differently, probably as per their sunlight needs. Unlike Virat, she had long given up hope of ever developing a green thumb in this lifetime.

The study desk was skillfully organized, a welcoming maroon shawl draped over the chair. With rising tenderness, she realized it was the one her Aai had gifted her last year. Virat’s mother, the woman who continued to meet her every week despite her family’s objections. She must have noticed her limited winter wardrobe and sent it over with Virat.

Oh Aai, Sai sighed internally, if only I could take you away from those jackals you call family…

Her gaze landed on the bedside table, where on top of a new novel rested her favorite tortoiseshell glasses, the ones she had left behind at the place she could never call home.

Sai swallowed hard, avoiding Virat’s probing eyes. It was a sweet gesture, but she wished he hadn’t touched her room at all. It was the only sphere in her life that wasn’t stained with his memories.

“I see you have made yourself at home,” her tone was deliberately cutting, as she dumped her bag on the desk. “Jaan sakti hoon main aise bin bulaye aane ki wajeh?” Her fingers traced the shawl, the intricately woven threads comforting her bruised heart. Was there a more soothing balm than a mother’s love?

She heard the noisy springs of her bed as he got to his feet. The room was filled with his presence. She knew the smell of his aftershave would linger to torment her tonight. Drawing in a deep breath for courage, Sai prepared to turn and meet the abyss of his gaze.

“Tumhe dekhke accha laga, Sai,” spoke Virat's velvety voice from behind. It washed over her like an autumn breeze; warm with the dewy promise of rain. It wrapped her in aching nostalgia of days gone by. “You have made quite the world for yourself here…” He paused like he always did, as if some phrases ran heavier on his tongue. “Kaisi ho tum?”

Her hands tightened on the chair. How was she?

I am exactly like you left me two months ago, Virat.

Lost.

Empty.

Clutching the broken pieces of who I used to be to my chest. Is that what you want to know?

“I am well,” she spoke aloud, her tone devoid of emotions. “Thank you for asking, Mr. Chavan. Aap mere sawaalon ka jawaab aaj bhi sawaalon se hi dete hain. Yaad honi chahiye thi mujhe yeh baat.”

“Must it still be this way, Sai?”

“What were you hoping would change?”

She felt him draw closer, the space between them throbbing with yearning. “Suna tha ki aksar faasle hi dooriyan mita dete hain. Shayad issi ummeed mein fir aaya hoon tumhare paas.”

If it wasn’t for the tightness in her throat, Sai would have laughed. “It’s admirable the way you keep trying. Par expectations bhi udhar rakhni chahiye jahan poori hone ki koi gunjaish ho.”

“Is that why you sent me these papers?”

She veered reluctantly, her eyes shifting from the taut lines of his face to the document in his hand. Her heart squeezed painfully, as she realized what it must be. “Toh mil gaye aapko…yeh papers.” She hated the breathless quality to her voice. The mere hint of the pain that was choking her from within.

“Do you think this is a joke?” His tone turned sharp, jaw clenched in restrained temper. Her restless gaze shifted to the day’s stubble peppered across his skin. Since when did her immaculate husband miss his shaves?

“Am I laughing?” She murmured distractedly, watching in satisfaction as his nostrils flared. Good. The sooner he was agitated, the earlier he would leave. Virat was predictable that way.

He raised the papers at eye level, an expression of disbelief on his countenance. “You sent me divorce papers, Sai? Seriously?”

“Yakeen nahi hota hai toh fir padh lijiye. I can wait.” She crossed her arms, leaning with fake nonchalance against the desk. Within her, a whirlpool of emotions swirled dangerously, an endless pit of hurting and wanting to hurt him.

His eyes glittered with an answering turbulence. “You want to get rid of me now, is that it? Yeh kaafi nahi ki main tumhare intezaar mein marta rahoon. Ab tumhe tumhara woh intezaar bhi mujhse chahiye? When will it be enough for you?”

A sheen of tears blurred her vision for a moment. Sai blinked them away with seething resolve. “Aisi meethi baatein do pyar karne walon ke beech acchi lagti hai,Virat. Hum dono toh sirf ek samjhaute ka rishta nibha rahe the. Aap apni zimmedaari ka, aur main apni majboori ka.” She straightened, pulling a pen out of the holder. She held it out to him, her lower lip quivering. “Now that our burdens are no more, we can finally end this farce of a marriage.”

In one quick stride, Virat caught her shoulders, a desperate fear in his eyes. His fingers gripped her like she was his anchor in a merciless sea. “Look at me, Sai,” he urged, a husky tremor in his voice. “Look at me and tell me you want to end this marriage. Say that you don’t feel anything for me.” His eyes roved over her face hungrily, as if memorizing a beloved’s features. “Kya tum mujhse pyaar nahi karti? Can you honestly tell me that?”

She sucked in a sharp breath, her lips parting.

Love.

Was it possible for such a beautiful word to hit with the force of a thousand thunderbolts? A word that she hid under her pillow, kissed away in the wind, had scraped out of her palms…She hadn’t dreamed that one day, it would stand in front of her, questioning her.

That it would demand an answer for all the countless nights her tears had soaked the sheets. The mornings when she woke up, carrying loneliness and grief on her chest. The days that lay barren because they didn’t have Virat’s smiles. The times her body stirred with innocent desires, the whispers of his name in untold yearnings.

“How dare you,” her words were mere breath, shock and pain strangling her voice. “Aap mujhse yeh sawaal kar rahe hain? The man who threw me out of his house in the middle of the night over his family's lies?”

Her hands lifted of their own volition, intent on shaking him in blind outrage. But Sai paused, registering the respect of an officer’s uniform on his body. “Aapko sharam nahi aayi pyar jaise shabd ki beizzati karte huye? Usse mere khilaaf istemaal karke?” Sai stepped back, dislodging his hold. “You need to leave, Mr. Chavan. Aur koi zaroorat nahi hai aapko idhar dobara aane ki. Please just courier me the signed papers next time.”

She strode past him towards the door, opening it with finality. Limbs trembling with exhaustion, she gestured towards him to leave. He stood still near the desk, watching her with haunting agony. And Sai knew with bleak certainty that if he stayed any longer, she would unravel and shatter.

Virat tossed the papers on her desk. “I will not leave. Not just yet,” he told her, a hard glint in coal black eyes. “And I will not sign these blasted papers!”

She stiffened as he stalked towards her, glorious rage on his visage. “You are my wife, Sai. This place in my life is yours,” he spoke, his words a soft caress with underlying steel. “Kuch legal documents humare rishte ko khatam nahi kar sakte.”

He shut the door firmly, backing her against the wall. “I will stand in every court, in this world or the next, claiming you as mine.” He clasped her wrist, pressing her hand against his chest. “I vow to give you my heart, body and soul, Sai Joshi. Around the holy fire, I once swore to protect you, to honour you. I failed once, but never will I again. Tum jab chahe aazma sakti ho.” Her eyelashes fluttered shut as he drew closer, an intoxicating promise in his words. “Main tumhare liye qayamat tak intezaar kar sakta hoon, Sai…” His nose brushed against hers, stirring passions longing to break free. “…but I will not let you go, my love. Never again.”

His mouth brushed over hers softly, as if sealing the promise. Virat’s kiss stunned her, a secret dream coming alive. Heated desire ripped through her, like a ravenous wildfire. And then she resisted, feeling herself crumble under the onslaught of his mouth. Her hands pushed at his chest, even as her body leaned towards him.

His warm mouth invaded hers, taking apart her resistance, her rebellion, her shyness with swift bold strokes…Sai found herself responding with fierce sweetness, her fingers lovingly tracing his jaw. She blushed as he groaned, whispering something akin to an endearment, a praise, a prayer. She felt an unfurling within…like a butterfly’s wing, a budding blossom at the touch of the sun.

His hand entangled in her hair, holding her captive. Sai moaned as Virat parted her lips with his tongue, igniting her pulsing sex. His arm slipped around her waist, lifting her up as her legs weakened.

An eternity later, when they broke away, Sai could only stare at Virat, a naked longing unveiled in her gentle eyes. His breathing was harsh, as he kissed her nose reverently. “With my soul, I worship thee,” he quoted from one of her romance novels, a solemn promise in his piercing gaze.

And then he was gone.

Sai touched her swollen lips, sinking down to the cold floor. For the first time in many months, she felt warm.

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Oh my god! This was beautiful! You are truly a fantastic writer. The way you depicted their emotions, their despair, it was fabulous. Dil jeet liya yaar❤️

Loved it.... please write more.... I can’t wait 😊

Perfect angst with romance. I wish I wish the makers show something similar ♥️

This is soo beautiful

Love it love it love it🤪❤️

We want more like this

Wow.....really a masterpiece.......beautiful one.....

Girl....you are really very talented......

It's so perfect..... you have wonderful writing skills....

I really loved the way he promised her 'his everything' by kissing her..... so beautiful.....😍

If possible....please continue this.....

Keep writing more......

Beautiful! Loved it ❤️😅

Brilliant...

Loved it...

Awesome 👏 

So intoxicating