For those smart people who will surely wonder: The pool is ONLY accessible from ASR's room. I am not going to have such confusing layouts for the Raizada mansion as seen on the show. It is frankly all messed up. So yeah. The only way to enter his room is THROUGH THE DOOR.
Chapter Six - dedicated to Nayika who does not believe in writer's block :P this is the crappiest chapter i have ever written. I swear to Harry Potter.
Mature content. Kids, go shoo.
*
The clouds shifted.
Moonlight crept through the pearl gray curtains into the dark room, its bluish hue casting a ghostly haze upon the shards of glinting glass strewn across the carpet, upon the torn bits of swirling leaves that had come in floating through the open window in the light breeze. It crawled over the ripped sheets that lay on the floor in gnarled, twisted shapes, and probed further, cautious, but determined to seek. At last, it slunk upon a haggard face that was once handsome, hollowed eyes that had smouldered with intensity mere hours ago, unwashed skin that was drooping with stubble, shining greasily. The moonlight flickered in its reflection, suddenly afraid.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Chotte, chotte darwaza kholo, Chotte!"
Bang!
"Chotte please! Darwaza kholo!"
"Bhai! Bhai open the door! Bhai!"
Bang, bang, bang, bang...
It had gone on for hours and hours, if not days. They had all heard the explosive noises that shook their home to its core, noises they were not entirely unfamiliar with. It was as though the past had reared its ugly head and charged right at them - with a vivid sense of dj vu, they had run to his room, only to find themselves, once again, facing a locked door that seemed to be strong enough to withstand several bodies being flung with grim purpose against it, before they realized he had pushed up his bed to it so that they could not do exactly what they had been trying to do.
And then the screams began.
Each one tore through Anjali's heart, and she sank to the floor as she recognized her little brother's pain, or rather, its source.
"It's her, Akaash," she gasped, when he was the first one to get on his knees beside her before enveloping her in a hug.
"I'm sure it's her. I know all this. We've done this before. He's done it before, don't you see?"
She burrowed into the crook of his neck as the rest of the family fell down to their knees around them, holding her, comforting her.
"It's Lavanya."
*
Dawn was coming.
He could see the edges of the sky lightening from where he lay, his head against the cool floor of his room. Slowly, his hands moved around him, groping for what remained of the sheets. Having found one particular slip that felt big enough, he drew the cloth to him and draped it over his chest, attempting in vain to ward off the cold chill that had settled comfortably on him throughout the night.
Her voice echoed loudly in his ears.
ASR?
He scrunched up his eyes as he felt them rushing back, knocking against each other, pounding away furiously at his skull, without warning, without hesitation, as though they had every right to barge in on him, when he had made the decision to move on. They pressed against his breath, throbbed along with the veins of his temples, and the beast within him roared as he strained not to give in, strained not to succumb to their merciless taunts, to the visions that they made sear right through his closed eyelids. He struggled futilely as they surged on towards their conquest, making him give in, again and again, to the onslaught of her memories.
*
"Pam, is he always this angry?"
Her hushed words drifted into his ears over the gleaming, red counter tops as he made his routine rounds across the office floor, his scrutinizing glare sparing no one.
Pam giggled.
"Yes, but I don't mind it at all! He is absolutely delicious, don't you think?"
He whipped around with his eyes flashing at their impertinence, his tongue ready to lash out the sharp words that would send them both scuttling off to their seats, when their eyes collided. Her dark, caramel skin was flushed and her movements were oddly flustered as she dropped her gaze, and pulled the hem of her mini-dress lower in a vain attempt to cover her toned thighs.
Smirking inwardly, he grimly marched towards them.
"What the hell is going on here?" he snapped, feigning his utmost displeasure.
"We - we- we were just - erm -" stammered Pam.
"We weren't talking about you," cut in Lavanya, glancing nervously at her friend.
He raised his eyebrows.
"ASR," she added quickly.
"Yes, ASR," reaffirmed Pam, batting her eyelashes. "We weren't talking about you."
"Okay."
They looked at him, stunned at his complete lack of temper, and there was a sudden hush in the office as he felt everybody around them gasp, and he glared at them, feeling himself surrounded by incompetent workers with little to no dedication to their work for them to be distracted so.
"If everyone does not get back to work right now," he said, his voice dangerously quiet, "I will be finding myself a new set of staff from tomorrow. Got that?"
He could hear throats gulping in acknowledgement, see beads of sweat rolling down sweltering foreheads.
"Good. Now GET BACK TO WORK!"
He glowered at them fiercely before turning around and striding up the stairs. With his hand on the door-handle, he paused, and turned.
"Except for you, Ms. Kashyap," he drawled. "My cabin. Now."
*
It was nearly the end of the morning aarti. Mamiji had conducted it, her usual bright colours dim in the stony silence that pressed against them all. Nobody smiled. They accepted the prasad quietly, their faces lined and creased, and none of them could help but miss Anjali. The vivacious bubble of mirth that always seemed to float around them, enveloping them in warmth and happiness was absent, being too ill to leave her room. Akaash shivered. The hairs on the back of his neck pickled as he felt cold whispers of wind fluttering like death through the halls.
His sister was right.
No one else but Lavanya could do this to their house, could affect them so much.
Could affect him so much.
And as he frowned in despair, sinking in thoughts of what might have happened, the phone rang loudly in their silent midst.
"I'll get it," he said, moving towards it.
"No. I will."
His grandmother's voice was clear and strong, and he stepped away from the ringing device, regarding her apprehensively. Tension unfurled in the room as she adjusted her sari, the phone shrilling away, penetrating the air with the unbearable sound.
Finally, she picked it up.
*
Khushi watched her mother warily as she put down the receiver, her heart thudding wildly in her chest as the woman turned slowly towards her. She gulped as realization struck her, and her palms pooled with sweat. She was in trouble, and she knew it.
"Amma -"
"Do you know what they said?" interrupted Garima, her eyes cold and furious.
"N-No -" stammered Khushi.
"They said it wouldn't be a good time to drop by today."
"Oh?" said Khushi weakly.
"They also said it wouldn't be a good time to drop by for this whole week."
There was a pause, and then -
"They said they are in reconsideration."
Something deep and heavy twisted in her guts, leaving her thoroughly unsettled. She averted her eyes and said nothing, looking straight ahead. Her gaze fixed onto a large speck of dust on the window sill, and she had a sudden, uncontrollable urge to brush it away.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you, Khushi," said Garima quietly.
She looked.
"You do realize," continued Garima, her voice getting quieter and quieter, "what this means?"
Khushi shook her head. She was lying. Of course she knew. Dread seeped into her as she saw the seriousness in the situation, what it really meant for her.
"Oh, I think you do."
*
The ridiculously large, hazel-gold-specked eyes blinked, and for a minute, Garima saw something inside them that moved her. It was a plea, from a child to its mother. It was a plea from one woman to another.
It was a plea to her made from the child of her husband's dead lover.
Her face hardened. Striding forwards, she struck Khushi around the face and watched as she stumbled backwards, her eyes wide with shock.
It was the first time Garima Gupta had raised her hand on Khushi Kumari Gupta, and it wouldn't be the last.
*
Khushi was reeling in shock. No, she was seething with anger.
"Amma!" she cried, her hand flying up to her stinging cheek.
"Bas!" thundered Garima. "This is all your fault!"
"My fault?" spluttered Khushi angrily.
"Why did you do it?" shouted Garima, "Why?"
"But what have I done?"
"You threw yourself at him when he was betrothed to your sister-!"
"I did - what -? Amma, do you even know what you're saying?"
"We all saw it!" cried Garima, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, "We all saw it, Khushi! So don't hide it! Don't lie -!"
"I don't under - you saw what? What did you see?"
"How his eyes never left you! They must be 'reconsidering' because he realizes that he wants the sister!"
*
He remembered how her eyes had fluttered wide open, how she had exchanged horrified looks with Pam before turning around and following in his wake. He remembered it all -
Through his glass walls, he watched her climb up the stairs, her long, stiletto-heel clad legs fumbling as she tried in vain to regain her wits. She was confused, he could see that, and it made all this all the more pleasurable.
She knocked.
"Enter."
She stepped in, closing the door behind her. He quirked his eyebrows when he heard the click of the lock. Yet she was slow in her movements, and lingered unnecessarily at the door, her fingers hovering over the handle. He stood up and made his way towards her, throbbing hard quite painfully, and grasped her by the shoulders from behind. She stiffened immediately, and turned around.
"Ms. Kashyap," he whispered, pressing himself on her, letting her feel him between her legs.
She shuddered as she pressed back, placing her hot core on his arousal, gently grinding her body against his. His eyebrows flew up in his forehead at her actions, and he stepped back, unnerved.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice sharp, breaking through the heady atmosphere.
She turned red.
"I - I thought you wanted - that you wanted - it," she said, her voice small.
The professional in him sneered at her words and chastised him for being responsible for this totally inappropriate situation, yet the man within him - the man that was him - purred and grew greedy.
"Well," he murmured, playing along. "What do you want?"
"I want you to tell me what you want," she said, finally looking up at him, her gaze bold.
"Tell you?" he asked, taking a step closer.
She shook her head.
"Show me," she whispered.
He closed all distance between them, this time pinning her against the wall between his arms.
"Wait -" she said.
He looked her questioningly.
"I don't want - I mean - I -" she broke off, blushing, and expressed herself by gesturing at the glass walls.
He smirked.
"How many times have you been up here?" he asked her, his face inches away from hers.
"I - I don't remember," she whispered, her breasts pushing against his chest.
He brought his finger to her face and glided it down the smooth skin, trailing well beyond her neck, over one straining nipple. Her breathing became heavier as he circled it, and he watched her cheeks fill with colour.
"You don't?" he asked, his warm, wet lips moving against her ear.
"Yes...I think...I think - a few times," she said, sighing, finally slumping backwards against the wall, her head rolling back.
He nipped down to the base of her throat, licking the hollow there.
"Mmm. Then how come you don't seem to remember that it's a one-way glass? That nobody from the outside can see what's being done inside?"
She answered him by digging her nails into his flesh while her other hand slid to his belt, pulling at it. His hands moved down to help her and she frowned, wanting his hands to be back at her breasts, wanting to feel the pleasure she knew he would give her. She held his one hand and moved it up to cup a breast, while moving the other one down between her legs where her dress had ridden up, letting him feel the wetness that throbbed sweetly, waiting for him.
He moaned as she then placed her hands on his chest, helping him shrug out of his jacket, and then swiftly unbuttoned his shirt with her nimble fingers. He noticed how she grew more and more confident with every passing second until he was certain that this was not her first time. He lost his train of thought as he saw her eyes darkening, her hands caressing his chest, her nails grazing dangerously close to his nipples.
With a sharp intake of breath, he pushed her to the ground, his one hand clenching her breast while the other thrust aside the damp, frilly underwear to feel her slippery folds. She gasped and arched her back, pulling his head down to the tops of her breasts where he bit her nipples frantically through the fabric, wanting more, wanting so much more -
He resurfaced, gasping for air, his penis hard against his trousers. He was still lying on the floor, the sheets smouldering with the heat from his body. He threw them off, and brought his palms to his head. The memories were still vivid, the memories of her which had started with a bang, and ended with a bang -
"No," he muttered into his hands.
She gasped in delirious pain as he thrust into her from behind, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her round bottom, and she pleaded him to take her, take her the proper way -
"No," he repeated.
He brought the practiced coolness over his body, steeling himself, binding himself to its cold, iron chains.
"I'm not going to think about this! Dammit! I'm not going to think about her!"
As if on cue, his other cellphone rang out, and he picked it up, his heart skidding to a stop as he realized it was the same number, as he realized it was her. His thumb fleeted across the pad to rest above the red button, which if pressed would silence the damn thing, but he stilled. He was calm now, considerably more than he had been last night, when the girl had come into the room and he had flung the -
when the girl had come into the room
She had come. She had seen him like this.
He squared his jaws as he pushed away all thoughts of the figure in red away from his mind, and pressed the green button.
*
Garima, Buaji and Payal gaped at her. Even Babuji was looking at her weirdly, as though she had suddenly sprouted whiskers.
"Hai Nandkishore!" exclaimed Buaji. "This girl has gone mad. Have you gone mad, titaliya?"
"No." said Khushi clearly, admiring how her voice had not wavered in the slightest. "No, I haven't."
"You want to go over to the Raizada's?" asked Payal with widened eyes.
"Yes."
"You want to speak to them?"
"Yes."
The women considered her carefully, and she looked at her father.
"Babuji, let me go," she stated, her eyes locked with his, begging him to understand why she had to do this, why she felt the need to do this.
And he replied back with his eyes that she need not whatsoever have to do something to prove a few baseless accusations -
"I know I can fix this," she whispered, more to him than to anyone else in the room.
"How?" said Garima, speaking for the first time since the interlude of their fight, brought about by the arrival of the rest of their family.
Khushi ignored her as the pain in her cheek blazed stingingly, her heart sinking with the unpleasant memory.
"How?" repeated Garima loudly.
"How what?" snapped Khushi, her patience worn thin.
"Khushi!" cried her father. "Mind your tone with your mother!"
"She's not my mother! I think she made it pretty clear today!"
There was a deafening silence as the walls and the people absorbed her words.
And then -
"What do you mean, she's made it pretty clear today?" asked her Babuji, his voice quiet.
"I -"
She was at a loss for words. She felt ashamed at her outburst. But she couldn't help it. She was stung like any other daughter, but this was worse, much worse. She had never had problems with Garima - Buaji was the angry one - but she and Garima had gotten on remarkably well terms, always, considering the circumstances. She was her Amma, the mother she never had, even though it was clear she would never be loved like Payal, the real daughter. But today's slap had been the worst. The words that had followed had been even more so. And so, for the first time in her life, Khushi began to know her place, and she felt completely and desperately lonely.
She glanced at her Buaji and Amma to see that the latter had paled, and was staring at the floor, avoiding the quizzical looks that were being thrown her way.
She looked back at her father who held her under his steady and stern gaze, and knew that this was neither the time nor place to start a war.
And so she apologized.
"I'm sorry. That was way out of line. I didn't mean any of that."
He didn't move, and neither did they. She sighed exasperatedly.
"Look, are you going to let me go, or not? I'm telling you, I can fix this."
Damn this Arnav Singh Raizada, she thought. There has to be another reason to all this.
Her father broke eye contact first. He cleared his throat, and told her to go.
She didn't hear him. Her mind clouded with visions of him stiffening, of him throwing his phone away against the wall -
"Khushi!"
"Huh - what?"
"I said you can go!"
She broke into her chirpy smile and nearly skipped across the room to get her bag before slinging it across her shoulder. She then skipped back to Payal and threw her arms around her.
"Don't worry, Jiji," she whispered tearfully. "I'll fix this, I promise."
Payal hugged her back, her fingers pinching Khushi's skin, making her yelp.
"You better fix it," she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she looked at her little sister who was mocking serious pain. "You better, 'cuz otherwise, I'll hate you for life."
Khushi was still laughing as she skipped out of the house, her insides squirming with raging grief.
You better, 'cuz otherwise, I'll hate you for life.
It had been said as a joke, no doubt. But the ringing truth around it refused to disappear from her mind, and she knew the threat would indeed become a likely possibility, if not reality, if she was unable to "fix it".
I have to know who called him. I have to find out the real reason.
Those were her last, sane thoughts as she sought out a taxi before giving him directions and sliding into the warm backseat. She pulled her feet up and rested her head comfortably against the pane, unconsciously slipping into another world where a pair of brown eyes smouldered in scorching intensity, just for her.
*
Shyam held the bars of his window tightly in his fists as the whip came down, again and again.
She was panting now, and he turned his face to see her divesting herself of her bra, exposing her milky breasts and hardened nipples. She made her way to him and freed his wrists, and he stepped back, massaging them.
"Now come to me," she ordered. And so he did.
***
I know it's not as long as i promised, and it's really not as long as i wanted it to be. the next one will hopefully be longer.
Next: ASR's conversation with Lavanya? Khushi's conversation with ASR? Shyam's mystery? OR I might become totally insane and give viewpoints through the goat.
________________________________
Chapter One and Two - Page 2: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/2911961/arhi-ff-ripped-part-9-update-pg23-19th-oct?pn=2
Chapter Three - Page 4: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/2911961/arhi-ff-ripped-part-9-update-pg23-19th-oct?pn=4
Note on Page 7: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/2911961/arhi-ff-ripped-part-9-update-pg23-19th-oct?pn=7
Chapter Four - Page 7: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/2911961/arhi-ff-ripped-part-9-update-pg23-19th-oct?pn=7
Chapter Five - Page 10: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/2911961/arhi-ff-ripped-part-9-update-pg23-19th-oct?pn=10
Chapter Six - Page 14: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/56171263
Chapter Seven - Page 18: https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/post/56853125
My Arhi SS(completed): Feelings (based on Arnav discovering Khushi and Shyam promo) -
https://www.indiaforums.com/forum/fan-fictions/2780981/feelings-aftermaths-the-end-pg-19-arhi-os-ss
Edited by cmileyfreaky - 13 years ago
Hindi TV Shows
Kumkum Bhagya
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