Haven - RaghVi OS (9 May)

Hey.

I'm new to the forum and this is my take on a scene set sometime in the future, where all the misunderstandings between Raghav and Pallavi have been sorted. It's my first attempt on them, so sorry if I got the tone or characteristics wrong.

Warning : Not proofread. Also, a little too long maybe.

H  A  V  E  N

“It’s not fair.” Those words knocked her out of her reverie and she quickly wiped away her tears, lest the brute behind her see it. Preparing herself for the verbal assault that was to follow, she turned back to look at her husband.

He seemed calm tonight, no signs of the anger and masked tenacity he generally carried with him. He was studying her, waiting for her response and when she didn’t oblige, he stepped away from the door and languidly made his way towards her.

Gathering her courage, she stood her ground, forcing herself not to move backwards as he approached. But surprisingly, he turned to the side and went towards his cabinet. She watched as he took out a decanter he must have poured his liquor in earlier and made his way to her. Her eyes followed his precise movements, his suave manner not betraying the fiend he actually was as he motioned her to sit on the couch in the room. When she failed to obey his unsaid demand, he asked, “Baithega tum? Kha nahi jaayega main tumhe.”

The day had already been exhausting and she didn’t have it in her to fight him, so she quietly sat down on the sofa. It surprised her, when instead of sitting on the couch next to her, he perched himself on the coffee table before her. As he filled up two glasses with the amber coloured liquid, his eyes never left hers. He picked one up and handed it to her, “Tumko zarurat hai lagta hai.”

His proximity already befuddled her senses, so she shook her head in a no. “I don’t drink.”

“I know. Lekin kabhi kabhi dard bhulaane ke liye, isse acha cheez koi nahi hota.”

She looked at the glass and back at his mocking eyes. ‘What the hell, she thought to herself. Maybe this is what would help her.’

“It wasn’t fair. What happened today….it shouldn’t have happened,” he reiterated and she would have replied, but she was busy gulping down the glass of whiskey he had handed her.

“Woah woah Saree ka Dukaan. It’s a slow sipping whiskey. Tequila shot nahi hai woh.” He said as she began coughing once the liquor passed her throat.

“It….burns. Oh Lord….How do you drink this poison?” She answered back between her coughs. His hand automatically went to her back, patting her as she finished coughing. He laughed once he realised that she was not choking or aspirating on the said beverage and refilled her glass. 

“Dheere theere se peeyega toh nahi cough karega.” He said as he handed it to her and picked up his own glass and took a swig out of it.

The second time around, it wasn’t so bad, she decided. Her insides felt warm and her mind seemed hazy. She tried to concentrate on the glass  but her husband was far more alluring, she realised. Also, he was saying something, she belatedly realised.

“……should have said something. I would have said something but because of Amma I didn’t.”

“What difference would it have made?” She said, her eyes fixated on the way his Adam’s apple moved when he sipped his whiskey. She had the sudden urge to touch his throat - her fingers sliding down from his throat to the skin she could see on her chest. Her body still felt warm where his hand had patted her back and she had to shake her head to get back her focus.

He was frowning at her looking disappointed at her decision. “So, I take it that the only person you can stand up to, is me.”

Pallavi snorted as she heard him, but he continued, “I know that Sanki Sa….I mean your father-in-law, can do no wrong according to you, but honestly? How could you not be pissed off at his decision?”

She looked away then and said, “It was his shop, his house and his money. What would I be pissed off about?”

“You really believe that? The reason that shop is still standing is your blood, sweat and tears, not to mention your life. And that man had the audacity to stand in my house and sell away its parts and give it all to his “only” son?” He seemed to be getting angrier as he spoke, his eyes getting that feral quality they generally got when he was livid. 

“When have my tears and life ever mattered to anyone? Be it him or you?” She asked looking back at him, throwing the truth of her life back at him.

He had polished off another glass by then and seemed bewildered by her accusation. 

“I am nothing like him.” He snarled and filled up both their glasses again. He picked up a plate of peanuts lying on the table and thrust it towards her. “Eat, or else you’ll throw up.”

“You both took away my agency to do anything. You both took away my freedom. You both didn’t care about what I felt. How are you any different?” Pallavi asked him, gratefully taking a few of the peanuts, watching him come up with an answer.

“At least you know I am the villain in your story.” He replied, pointing his forefinger in a “gotcha” motion. It seemed so childish on him that she smiled at the action.

“Pallavi, tumhara ek hi problem hai - tum unko bhagwaan samajhta hai lekin woh ordinary human hai.” She didn’t bother answering back because he seemed to be staring intently at her. “And he knows you so well and still doesn’t respect you.”

He seemed to imply that he respected her and looking back at their life since their wedding, she had to accept that it was true. Whatever circumstances he might have created to get married, after the wedding, her wishes had been always complied with. They argued all the time, but he never derided her - considering her his equal. 

It had started with something childish like exchanging her shampoo with honey so that she had ended up with a sticky mess in her hair. She had gotten back at him by somehow locking up all his shirts so that he had to end up going to a meeting in his undershirt. She had expected retaliation, which he did by announcing that late nights with her were tiring him out - loudly and on the dining table, failing to mention that the said late nights were because they were busy one-upping each other in arguments. 

But there had been something akin to admiration in his eyes when she hadn’t backed down from a fight. And five months into this sham, she was unexpectedly comfortable. He had never crossed his line, acting as her husband for the outside world, had never let anyone from the staff disrespect her and anything she needed was always given to her - it didn’t matter that it happened after he had loudly proclaimed that he would never allow it. 

He clicked his fingers in front of her when she didn’t reply for a long time. She broke out of her reverie and accepted something for the first time, “They don’t deserve me.”

His face broke out into a smile as he heard her. “Not bad, Saree ki dukaan. Three pegs and you think they don’t deserve you. Two more and you’ll finally see them for what they are.”

“They’re all I’ve got, you know?” He ignored her words and motioned her continue eating.

“Before you met your….” He seemed to stop and spat out the next words, “….ex-husband, what did you want to do?”

“Pata nahi. I was so young. All I wanted was a family. I’d never had that and they seemed perfect.”

“You like sarees? Or is it the business side of things that aspires you?” he asked, as though an idea had struck him.

“Neither. I just wanted the shop to stay afloat so that we could just live.”

“You know what I think?” He continued when she looked at him questioningly, “You should become a chef. It’s the only thing I’ve seen you do happily since I’ve known you.”

It made sense, she guessed. She loved cooking. And above it all, she was good at it. Since the time she had been a kid, she had used the kitchen as a means of escape from the trials of the outside world. When she was in there, only the aromas and the proportions mattered. She wasn’t an orphan, she wasn’t a widow, she wasn’t a forced bride. She was just Pallavi.

Seeing her mulling over the idea, he said, “Socho tum. Force nahi karega main, because phir tum bolega ki tumhara agency le liya main. Although, it might be less funny to call you Mithaai ki dukaan.” She smiled at his attempt to make a joke in this emotional time turned back to toss back a few of the peanuts. 

She clinked her glass to his as he said, “To new beginnings.”

They were both on their…..fifth glass, she guessed. The world was getting a little blurrier, but Pallavi saw something clearly for the first time in her life. The family she had always considered hers to protect, saw her as nothing but a means to an end. Mandaar’s widow. The guileless girl who was there to work her behind off in return for a roof over her head and a few kind words from her father-in-law. Aayi was probably the only true relationship she had, she surmised. But even she would never break her husband’s heart for Pallavi after a certain limit.

Turns out the only person she actually had as…family….was the man nursing his whiskey in front of her. A small derisive laugh escaped her at the thought. Lord help her but Raghav Rao was now her family and it turned out - it wasn’t as horrid of a thought as she would have believed.

Eight glasses in, she was wondering how they had both ended up on the hard wood floor, sitting with their backs to the foot of their bed. Nothing had been said after those last words, both of them happy to be lost in their thoughts. She turned to her side and saw her husband looking at her with an expression she couldn’t place but had been seeing quite a lot nowadays. His eyes gleamed in the little moonlight that entered through the open drapes, filled with an intensity that she couldn’t stand. But like a eclipse, there was something about him that made her not want to look away, no matter how bad it might turn out to be for her.

“They’ve not all you’ve got, you know?”He said, his eyes focussed on the remnant of a peanut stuck to the edge of her lip. His hand, as though having its own mind, travelled to to her lips, carefully removing the offending object. Her questioning gaze forced him to continue, “Amma, Keerthi, Farhad….even Harish. They all love you, worship you actually.” His hand hadn’t moved from its spot near her lips and she had to gather her thoughts before she replied.

“And you.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a statement. As though forcing him to accept what she already knew.

He didn’t.

But he didn’t deny it either. His lips curved up into that smirk she had come to know as the calling card for her heart to go into a frenzy. His hand made its way from her lip to her neck, gently pulling her forward till her head rested on his folded knees, so that she was essentially lying with her head in his lap. She couldn’t look away from him now, even if she wanted to, she realised. Never the one to leave her guard down, especially in front of him, it was hard for her to lie there, vulnerable not just physically but also emotionally. But as was usual between them, his eyes held her captive and she couldn’t get herself to move, although he was barely holding her. 

“You own everything, Pallavi. Not just the people around me, but everything I own. If I die, you’ll own half of everything I’ve ever owned. The other half goes to the rest of my family.” His fingers were combing away her tresses from her face, and she leaned into them, before she understood his words.

“Did you say “if” you die? Does that imply you’re Superman? Or in your case, the devil in disguise?” She quipped, not believing a word he said. Why would you leave your millions worth of money and assets to your mortal enemy? Her quip made some of intensity disappear from his face and before he realised what he was doing, his face was a few centimetres from her face. 

“I’m not joking, honey. Despite the risk of you poisoning me, it’s true that you own everything.”

Her doe shaped eyes widened of their own accord, both at his words and his proximity. She could feel his warm alcohol laden breath on her face, mixed in with the smell his spicy after shave and his own personal scent, that she had learnt to recognise on his pillow.

“Why?” She whispered breathlessly, wanting to close the distance between their lips but not knowing if it was the alcohol or their proximity speaking.

“Because you’re mine. And I take care of what’s mine.” She had been expecting his possessiveness but instead, those words were uttered with a tenderness that took her breath away. It wasn’t said with a display of the territorial male pride which she abhorred, but with an affection which would have made angels weep.

His eyes followed hers, as she closed the gap between their lips and she watched as his eyes closed when their lips met. His lips were dry from the alcohol, but she didn’t care. His hands were still in her hair and retained their grip and she let go of her glass and her own hands reached the back of his neck. The glass fell on the floor, rolling away and spilling on the nearby rug, but they didn’t register any of it.  

She didn’t know what she wanted, but as she kissed him, Pallavi felt something give way in her. None of the boundaries she had made for them, none of her hesitation, none of his malice had any place between them. As their tongues met, she felt every shackle she had ever been captured in, break away, and as they fought for domination, she felt herself lose the battle against her heart.

They broke apart to catch their breath, never leaving each others’ eyes. One of his hands brought her hand from where she was clutching his neck, to hold it near his heart.

“You own everything, Pallavi,” he repeated, “All of my heart. All of me.”

The look of reverence in his eyes almost broke her, as her heaving breath caught again at his words. She closed her eyes, leaning into the warmth that coursed through her body. It was as though his words had drenched her soul with the warmth it had always desired. She let those words into her very being and bathed in the glory of happiness.

This was home, she thought to herself. Never had she felt safer than on the uncomfortable floor of Rao Mansion, half drunk but in Raghav’s arms, with his love surrounding her like a blanket of comfort. He was her personal haven.

As she opened her eyes, she smiled at Raghav Rao and his worried expression. She used her fingers to smooth out the crease that had formed on his forehead, and leaned in again.

“If I were you, I would think twice before I ate something made by me, husband,” she whispered and took his lips again.

She felt his lips curve into a smile as she kissed him. 

I know, I know. It's too long. Though, if you've been able to make it to the end, please leave behind your thoughts!

NeNe