She couldn't do it. It was one thing watching him talk to Disha as though she was the sun to his earth and entirely another where he spoke to her like she was the speck of dirt on his shoe that was disregarded or snubbed when she was before him.
They had only met a handful of times and those few meetings were enough for her to realise that she was capable of hate. She despised the woman who had captured the attention of the one being whose life she had been the centre of attention of. Shiva Pandya. It wasn't that he never spoke to any girls, or he hadn't given them any attention, he had after all had a couple of girlfriends in school and as far as she knew had even gone on a few dates before they had been thrown into married life, but never the awareness that had been reserved just for her.
***
Even now she stood behind them, a third wheel in her own relationship watching as he massaged her ankle with the oil he had warmed. God forbid if he had ever shown half the concern any time she had gotten injured; not counting the time in the khandar, but that was a different Shiva; Raavi's Shiva, who had held her close to himself so she wouldn't get injured, who had protected her from the crushing weight of the fallen pillar and sang tunelessly to keep her conscious. But it wasn't only the concern that she enjoyed, it was the contact. Everytime he placed his hands on her arms or on her waist, everytime his fingers grazed her cheek or her chin or lingered as he moved her hair from forehead to ear, a slow fire ignited within her, the hunger for his possessive touch growing and matching it was her need to touch him, feel the warm skin that encased strong, sinewy muscles.
***
His silent treatment bothered her, it niggled at her heart leaving her agitated, but she ignored it and him, happy to be close to the people she loved the most. And before she realised, in the silence between them, her feelings for him had changed. Now all she wanted was to hear his voice, tease her, mock her, argue with her and on the rare occasion that it happened, speak to her so softly that her insides fluttered. She turned, the clothes still in her hands, that she'd snatched from her; his shirts that he had changed from, into this new Shiva.
***
He'd always been comfortable in himself, not worried about his looks and now he had changed, to impress a girl he had known for less than three weeks. She had seen him dressed to the nines once before, on the barbecue night at the haveli and at that time too she had not wanted to turn away, but she had, after all they had declared enmity on their wedding night, how could she then give in to him winning the challenge she had issued. He had looked handsome and her heart beat erratically the whole night but when she'd seen him in his night clothes, her heart had sped up ever so slightly, knowing that no matter what he wore, he pulled it off, but his best look was when he was himself.
***
She held the shirt up to her nose, inhaling the faint scent of cinnamon, cardamom and fennel that was starkly different from what she had caught in the kitchen when he had walked in earlier; the woodsy scent covering his unique smell. Snapping the shirt, she began folding it, lamenting at how much she already missed his scent, giving in to the temptation to smell it once more before putting it away. She had in her ignorance once told him that she hated the stink of the spices and oils he seemed to have absorbed within him. Living with him had changed her perception, the same smells that bothered her before gave her comfort and it seemed as though his skin absorbed the most fragrant of spices for a heady combination.
***
Sighing at the direction her thoughts were going, she put away the rest of the clothes in their temporary wardrobe, her feelings even more skewed, her mind still preoccupied in thoughts of what might be happening outside in the aangan, she failed to notice the wall of chest standing right behind her, bumping into him with a force that caused him to take a step back to stabilise them.
***
Hyper aware of everything happening, her mind, body and soul memorising every little movement, she felt his arm around her waist, one hand holding onto her elbow tightening slightly, pulling her closer, her hands moving automatically around his waist. Eyes locked together, she watched unblinkingly waiting to see if he would look away first, but he held her gaze steady. Taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart, she realised the flaw in her plan when his scent tickled her nose, increasing the pace of her heart further.
All her senses tingled in anticipation, waiting and watching as he leaned in his cheek almost touching hers; she could feel the slight grate of his scruff, barely there but present and the errant thought of wanting to rub her cheek against it flitted through her mind.
"Raavi."
One word, whispered in the deep baritone, made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, her throat dry and her cheeks flush. The implication in the tone was clear as was his intention in the way he held her, but the question remained, who would take the first step?
They hovered at the edge of the precipice, each waiting for the other, her senses going into overdrive as the interlude continued at snail's pace and deep down she knew she would have to take the first step. He had made it clear that he wasn't who she had pictured for herself and before it would have been true. Now, though, she couldn't imagine anyone other than him and with her thoughts lucid, she took the plunge and set out to show him.
She rubbed her cheek softly against his enjoying the prickle, as she turned her face, she heard the sharp intake of air and looked up to see his pupils dilate. Aligning their lips, almost touching, "Shiva?..." her eyes searching for consent. At the imperceptible nod, she moved, closing the hair's breadth space between their lips, placing a soft closed mouth kiss on his.
Lengthening the pecks, she finally darted the tip of her tongue out hoping he would understand her unsaid words. That was all the acceptance he needed as he took over, deepening the kiss, tongues exploring; she could taste him. Finally. It felt like she had eaten popping candy, her mouth zinging with the feel of his tongue within the cavity, touching every crevice, getting to know it as intimately as she was learning his.
Her senses were appeased; temporarily and she resolved, even as she enjoyed being ravished by him, that he had become essential to her very being and she was never letting him go.
Edited by Miss.M - 3 years ago
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