The Jainandini Chronicles| NEW UPDATE| PART 9| PG. 45 - Page 24

Hi Everyone!

Jainandini

I try to calm myself down, but I seem to be doing such a poor job of it. How can I explain things to him, when he doesn't even know who I am? Tears of confusion are brimming in my eyes, and I can't do anything but blame myself. If he hates me, or doesn't want anything to do with me after he finds out...I can't blame him: because I lied. I knowingly lied. If he knows I knew he was a prince before he did- he might think that I had known all along and had been playing a game.

Either way, I still come out empty handed, and alone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

27 Years Ago

Ravgard Estate

Vidya was by all means a fairly average looking girl, she had not inherited her mother's fair complexion, or renowned beauty, but she was by no means an ugly girl. Being a princess had ensured that she would still embody the grace, poise and manners of a beauty, and whatever features she had were extenuated to the best of their ability. Her eyes were large and brown, she was petite and dainty, with curves in the right places. Her midnight black hair was thick and wavy; she had straight, even and white teeth courtesy of the best dentist and a sharp nose. She looked at other princess and felt a little self-conscious, but never wavered in her faith that she too would one day have a prince. It was, after all expected.

She, unlike many other princesses, did not have a betrothed. She assumed it was simply because she wasn't the heir. That was her brother.

She still lost her breath at the thought of him. Aryan, was by all means the best brother anyone could have asked for. He was older than her by almost 5 years, yet he had never treated her like a child. He had been her friend, her confidant, and her protector. His death had left a hole in her heart, and destroyed her father. Months had passed and the wound refused to heal. His voice and laughter still lingered in the hallway, and his scent in their gardens. His room was still untouched. His belongings scattered along the room, his clothing hanging in the closet, and his books rested on the shelves. Aryan was everywhere, but nowhere to be seen. Tall, dark hair and eyes, he had been a handsome prince, but kind hearted. A born leader, people loved him, and he loved them back. He was everything to her. And he was gone.

Her heart stopped when she thought about the car accident and how it had so cruelly taken away his young life. At 26 he had been hitting his prime, and his coronation was only six months away, only a year before his wedding with another princess.
Today, he would have been crowed the Maharaj of Ravgard, instead of jubilation and celebration around the estate there was an empty silence and mourning. Aryan was gone, and there was nothing that could bring him back.

She walked along the gardens touching the very flowers he had loved to learn about as a child, asking questions and wanting to help. Her white dupatta flowing in the air behind her. She found her father sitting in the gazebo, staring out blankly. Her father looked as if he had aged 20 years in 6 months, eyes tired, face dismal, and heart full of pain. Pain she couldn't bear. She rested her head on his lap and closed her eyes, his hand gently rested on her head. Together they shared their pain in silence.

Until Vidya spoke up.

Vidya: Papa.

She looked up at him with her big glassy eyes, and for a moment he recognized her and held on to that moment. He still had her. He still had Vidya.

She touched his face gently, it looked old and weathered from the pain.

Vidya: Papa, look around you. Look at the beauty that surrounds you.

And he looked, everywhere he looked he saw his son's love for the world, nature and beauty. He heard is laughter, he saw him reading in the sun, as teen, running around as a boy, and crawling as a toddler. He saw him everywhere, and the pain grew to be unbearable, because he knew what he saw were memories, and new ones would never be made. His son would forever be 26.

Vidya: He's still here Papa, he'll always be with us. And we should never forget him. Make sure the world knows that we'll never forget him.

Rajendra nodded silently, too choked up for words he held onto his last happiness and looked forward to immortalizing his son through the memories he had left them.

_______________________

They had decided on a Hotel, not a mega over the top, high rise, but a small, exclusive, and boutique hotel which would showcase the beauty of the country side, and all of the things Aryan had loved: the water, nature, and the sun. Vidya and Rajendra had a picture in their mind, but they needed someone to put it onto paper. The various Architects they had worked with didn't understand the subtle elegance and simplicity they wanted: they were still going grand, over the top and opulent. They didn't realize that this wasn't about the "royal" title, but the simply Yuvraj who had been Aryan. Not his crown.

Vidya had heard her father was scouting the US for an Architect . Matthias Ryan was said to be one of the best incorporating nature into structures: making them stand out and be one of a kind. Her father searched tirelessly for him day and night, call after call, and finally, after 3 months, the American had agreed to come to Ravgard to start on the project. Apparently he was going to stay in the palace for the next 6 months through the initial building and designing phase, and perhaps stay during the complete project depending on how things worked out.

Almost a year to the day of her brother's death she saw him: Matthias Ryan.

She hadn't seen the man, and only heard his name through conversations her father would have with the Project Manager about him, but she hadn't realized he was so young.

He must have been no more then 28, either that or he had aged very well. Tall, with deep brown hair and glowing green eyes, he stood out from the people around him. Of course she had seen white people before; she had grown up in boarding school in England, but she had never felt this jolt upon seeing someone like him. Tall, broad shoulders, chiseled jaw, and aristocrat nose, he looked more like Prince Charming then Matthias Ryan from Brooklyn New York. He was talking to her father as he entered the palace as they had met at the Airport in New Dehli, and made the trip out here. Dressed in a steel grey suit, white shirt, and no tie, he looked composed, and in power. He emitted authority.

She fidgeted with her cream dupatta, and fiddled with the French twist her hair was in, suddenly self-conscious. Remembering that she was the princess, she walked down the stair case ready to greet him into their home.

Her feet had just hit the last step when she heard laughter. Joyful squealing and laughter. Children. It had been so long since she'd heard such genuine happiness, she was startled. The source of the laughter was soon to flow. They were two little girls, no more than 2 and a half years old, running up towards her father and Mr. Ryan. They wore simply white dresses, both identical. Brown curls cascaded down their small backs, held away by pretty head bands, they rushed up to Mr. Ryan laughing.

The girls: Daddy! Daddy! Horsy! Horsy! We saw a Horsy!

She saw the man apologize for the girls noise, but her father laughed it off and looked towards the young girls with fond memories written across his face.

But a lump was in her throat. Children, meant a wife. And for some reason, it made her feel as if she had lost something.

Smiling she greeted Matthias, shaking his hand made her feel something odd, as if shock waves had just made their way up her arm. And, she could have sworn she saw that same surprise come into his eyes.

Vidya: Welcome Mr. Ryan, we hope that you're stay with us will be nothing short of comfortable and effective.

Matthias: Please Princess, call me Matthias.

Vidya: In that case, please call me Vidya.

The two girls looked up at her with curious eyes, the same eyes as their father; and then looked away suddenly shy.

Since she was closer she noticed the slight changes between the two twins, once had purple accessories, the other pink. The hairbands, shoes, and the ribbons on their dresses. The one in the purple tugged on her father's trousers.

Matthias: Oh yes. My apologies. Vidya, I'd like you to meet my girls. Ladies, how do you introduce yourselves?

The one in the pink grinned, and carefully put her hands together to say Namaste.

Pink: Natay!

Her sister followed and repeated the same.

Matthias grinned at his girls and looked back at Vidya.

Matthias: In their tongue, it means Namaste.

Enchanted Vidya crouched down and returned the greeting.

Vidya: Namaste ladies, I am Vidya.

The one in the Pink was the outspoken of the two, and did not hesitate to introduce herself and her sister.

Pink: I'm Nina, and thig ij Mina. Dada said you're a Pwincess?

Vidya smiled and touched the little ones nose.

Vidya: Yes, just like you.

Mina in purple nodded solemnly, in agreement.

Mina: Yes, Dada said we are his pwincesses.

Vidya smiled in agreement and stood up.

Vidya: Well, Raju will show you your room...s. I guess the girls will want their own room.

Rajendra: Actually Vidya, Mr. Ryan has requested just one room, don't worry about arranging another.

She took her leave and left her father to plan when their next meeting would be; as the Ryan family would need to settle in first. His daughter's ran up the stairs following Raju, and Matthias turned around towards one of the maids, who was holding something. Vidya hadn't noticed before, but she did now. There was another child, this one small and still a baby, also dressed in a dress, but of a sunny yellow color. She laughed as she was brought into her father's arms and rested her head on his shoulder. Vidya felt a surge of envy again. She disliked his wife, and didn't even know why.

________________

Jainandini

Komal:Jai, Darvaza Kholo.

I wake up to the gentle knocking on my door, and hear my mom's voice. Glancing at the time I notice that it's almost midnight, and I must have fallen asleep. I fix my face a little with a tissue, and open the door. In her night clothing she shuts the door gently behind her and looks at me critically. I'm still in the suit I had been wearing last evening.
Komal: Jai, kya bhat hai?

What am I supposed to say? "Mom, I really like someone, and I he's Rajendra's grandson, but he doesn't know he's a prince or I'm a princess: oh and by the way, he hates Rajendra"

Yeah, that would just work out really well.

Me: Nothing, Just tired.

Komal: Jai, I'm your mother, I know something's not right.

Me: Mom, seriously. I'm fine. Just tired.

She looks at me critically and its obvious she isn't buying it. I can't explain this to her. And even if I did'what's the best Mom could do? Tell me to tell the truth. Duh, I already understand that much.

Me: Mom, seriously I'm fine.

Komal: J beta, I wasn't born yesterday, what caused you to leave all of a sudden then?

Me: I felt sick.

I shouldn't have said that, because her face looks stricken, Oh crap.

Me: No! It's not what you think! I hadn't eaten all day.

She pulls me into my room and sits down on my bed.

Komal: J, we've always given you the freedom you've wanted, and let you do what you want: go out and enjoy yourself. But I hope you haven't forgotten a key principle expectation we have of any daughter in the royal house.

I know. I've never forgotten. And even though there were plenty of opportunities to cross the line, I never really did. I know now one would believe me, both women and men, but it's the truth. I've never slept with anyone. Ever.

Me: Mom! I know! Jeez!

She physically relaxes a bit, and pats my head which is almost like a "Thank God", kisses my forehead and wishes me good night. Once again, I'm alone in the room and wonder how the hell I'm going to dig myself out of this one. It seems next to impossible.

_______________

When I had woken up I had seen Yash's text asking for a lunch date, that he'd pick me up outside my house. Oh damn him and his chivalry. I breeze through breakfast and start my quest for some average looking clothing. The best I come up with are some jeans, and a plan white t-shirt which I use for running. I pull back my hair in a pony-tail, leave the make-up (except for the cover-up) and head out the door. Manyata is busy in the Dining room with her lessons, and looks up surprised to see me.

Manyata: J, where are you going?

Me: Out.

Manyata: Where?

Me: Just out.

Manyata: Looking like that?

Me: Why, what's wrong with this? It's better than what you have a history of wearing.

She raises her eyebrow and crosses her arms as she walks around me: circling me like a Hawk.

Manyata: There's nothing wrong with it, but there's also nothing Jainandini about it.

Me: I'm going to the spa Jijee, and I'll come back looking 100%.

She seems to buy it, and it seems obvious by the enlightened look on her face.

Manyata: Oh! Have fun then. Maybe we should go together sometime.

She's been doing this a lot lately, wanting that she and I do things together. Most of the time I smile and nod, mainly because there are other people around, but I know for a fact that it couldn't be the worst possible thing to do.

Me: Sure, but I have to go now.

Manyata: Of course J. Have fun.

I wish it were as easy as that Manyata, I don't know what I'm going to do around Yash, much less have fun.

I had made it to the chawl with almost half an hour to spare before the time he had decided, hence why I was so confused about his car being parked down the street. Carefully I make my way towards the courtyard in the middle of the chawl, and he's still there, under a tree. At first someone would think he's probably here to stalk me or verify the story I've told him, but he's not. He's simply sitting there, with piles of toys, chocolates and books. Kids a swarming him like bees, hugging him, laughing cheering, asking, thanking. I feel this lump rise in my throat. Here he is. By far the most caring person I've ever known, coming earlier then we'd decided, not for me. Not for me at all. But for children to whom he has no relation or obligation towards. And he seems genuinely happy to be here. This isn't some royal fundraisers where rich princes and princesses are supposed to show up, take a picture and act like they care. This is someone who has taken the time out to buy these small, happy items to put a smile on a stranger's face.

That is Yash. And it is also something I've never been. Caring, genuine, or a good person.

I look up and there are older girls my age, peering over the balcony, enthralled by his presence. I suddenly feel so possessive, and selfish. I want to rip out their eyes, for looking at him. I shake my head and look around. And tentatively make my way towards him. I can't see his eyes as they're hidden behind a reflective pair of Gucci glasses, but he seems engrossed with the children. Hands out a toy, some candy and smiles. His pile is growing smaller, and the children wander off to enjoy their treats, and I can tell he's been here for a few hours. The empty bags are littered behind him and the various children running around also suggest that. He gives the final girl a hug and a white stuffed bear and leans back against the tree, relaxing. His white button down shirt is rolled up at the sleeves and the grey slacks are a change from the usual sweat pants I'm accustomed to seeing him in. He gets up suddenly and takes off the glasses grinning at me. He must have seen me coming behind those glasses. I hate them. Because he can see my eyes, and all I can see are mine staring back at me.

Yash: Hold on! Wait!

He stops me where I am, and rummages through some bags then turns around, holding a single white Lily.

Yash: I think I owe you one of these, don't I?

I literally feel like sobbing. This guilt is eating me alive. How can I face him? Will he be ok with my lies? Will he understand that I was just looking out for myself? He interrupts my thoughts, and grabs my hand gently.

Yash: Let's grab something to eat Nandini, I'm starving!

His exuberance, liveliness outshines my personality on a normal day, but I feel like scum right now, standing beside the literal Prince of sunshine. It's quite de-moralizing. We walk towards his car and like a gentleman he opens the door for me before seating himself, and we drive off. He plays some song in the car and doesn't talk, and can't trust myself to speak at all. If I thought I had been doing a convincing job of acting normal, I was sadly mistaken.

Yash: You know, if you're trying to act like everything is ok, you're doing a pretty crappy job of it Nandini.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry at his accurate and honest analysis.

Yash: You know what, you don't have to tell me, but you can eat the worries away.

He grins as I raise my eyebrow at him critically. I seriously don't know how this man isn't 5000 pounds yet.

Yash: Don't give me that look! Awesome food always makes me de-stress.

Me: I somehow find it hard to believe that you're ever stressed.

He laughs and gets a faraway look in his eye. And for some reason I can feel that he too is worried about something, but obviously doesn't let it on as well as I do. I grasp his hand as he's driving and he holds back tight. Throughout the car ride, his phone rang twice as it sat between our entwined hands, but he didn't pick it up. Glancing at the screen it simply said "Uknown Caller" on the fourth ring in the third sequence I told him to pick it up.

Me: Yash! Just pick up the darn thing, someone obviously wants to get a hold of you.

Yash: It's ok. We're almost to the restaurant, it would be rude of me to start talking on a phone.

But it continues to ring, and I just pick up the phone

Yash: Nandini!

Me: What! It just keeps on ringing!

He shakes his head as I speak into the phone, laughing at my impatience.

Me : Hello?

The person on the other line ponders for a moment.

Man on the Line: Is Mr. Ryan there?

Me: Yes, may I know whose calling?

Man on Line: It's Gopal.

I smile and wonder which NRI would name their kid Gopal and hand the phone over to Yash.

Me: It's someone named Gopal.

His brow creases together, but he takes the phone.

And from their own all I hear is Yash's side of the conversation.

Yash: Yes Gopal. Sure, put him on.

Yash: Hello Nanaji.

It's Rajendra on the other freaking line. Holy Shit.

Yash: No, I prefer to speak in English.

Yash: Yes, I have been here for a few weeks.

Yash: No, the set invitation was for next week, and I will arrive as per your request.

Yash: It's Yash Nanaji. Not Aryan.

Yash: I understand, but my parents named me Liam Yashvardan. Not Aryan Yashvardan.

Yash: No, not even for your Nanaji.

Yash: A Friend.

Yash: No, I can't come now.

Yash: Yes, good bye.

His back is tense and I can see the muscels in his neck bulging and the grip on his steering wheel tightening. He looks onward, passive and angry. I feel like blurting out my lies now, but I can't. He looks so hurt and in pain. We stop in front a new caf and make our way to the table he had booked for us.

Still not a word. Sitting down, I finally have the courage to at least ask him what's wrong.

Me: Everything OK?

Its odd he's usually the one trying to make me feel better.

Yash: Could be better to be honest.

He attempts a smile, but it isn't a genuine Yash Smile. He's so honest. Most men would have simply shrugged it off and changed topics, but he doesn't lie. He tells the truth even if it isn't blunt.

I reach over and hold his hand as the waiter drops of water and menus.

Me: what's wrong?

He shakes his head and runs his free hand through his hair.

Yash: Hmmm, let me think. I have to meet this old man that I've only heard of, tomorrow, a person I don't like let alone love. A Grandparent who refuses to call me by my given name, but rather the name of his dead son, my uncle. He's stubborn, selfish, and egotistical asshole who never forgave my mom for marrying the man she loved. Everything is pretty darn good besides that you know.

Me: You weren't kidding when you said you didn't like your mom's side of the family.

Yash: My dad's side isn't the nicest either. Granny Ryan didn't like the fact that mom was East-Indian, she softened a bit when I was born and turned out looking more like my dad then my mom.

He isn't being cruel, his tone is normal, and impassive, as if simply stating a fact of like such as oxygen and that the earth is round, no bias, or predjudice, and I believe him. I can see the picture of Vidya winning over her mother-in-law by giving her an heir after three granddaughters, and making her love her grandchild because yes, Yash did look like his father.

Yash: But you see Nandini, Granny Ryan may have been mean sometimes, but she still gave in, she still gave my parents a chance. Nanaji never did. I'm 25. It's been almost 26 years since my Grandfather has seen my mom. And he'll never get the chance to see her now.

I can sense he needs to get this off his chest, Grasping both his hands in mine, I let him continue.

Yash: He knew they loved each other, sure it was weird, nice upper-class Indian girl wanting to marry a widowed man with three little girls, but they loved each other. Shouldn't that mean anything?

Nice Upper Class Indian Girl? Is that what Yash thought is mother had been?

Yash: He made her choose, either him or Dad. Dad won out. But mom lost either way.

I feel this lump coming into my throat. Even hearing him say these words makes me feel like a bigger fraud, because I know this story, or at least a part of it because of Rajendra from yesterday.

Yash: Nandini, growing up, there was so much love in my house I never noticed the pain in my mom's eyes. But as I got older I noticed there were certain days where she'd feel so alone, and sad. I can remember her writing letters but having them come back unopened. Making calls but the phone hanging up. She gave up after a while and just lived her life with us. But you could always find a moment where she longed to reconcile with him- with Nanaji- but he never gave her the chance. That was her punishment for loving someone.

He was angry now, more than angry, he had let go of my hands and gripped his glass with a solem expression on his face, then it finally relaxed. There was no outburst, no growing volume or anything of the sort. But control.

Yash: I'm sorry, I'm just dumping this on you today. Not a good sign huh?

He grins at me, and whip away a stray tear making its way out of my eye.

Me: No, it's fine. That's what I'm here for. That's what friends are for.

He laughs and gently holds both of my hands, bringing them to his lips, and I can feel my knees turn into jelly- thank goodness we're sitting down.

Yash: I'd like to think that we're more than friends Nandini.

I can't help but silently agree. I want to be much, much more then friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~

27 Years Ago

Ravgard Estate

She didn't want to have dinner with the Ryan family, she didn't want to face Mrs. Matthias Ryan and face the envy she was feeling. But, her title and upbringing demanded that she be a good hostess and she managed to drag herself out of her room. Dressed in a yellow suit she wandered to the Dining hall where she saw her father and Matthias making their way to the table. Greetings were exchanged and they took their respective places, her father at the helm, she on his right, and Matthias on his left. The rest of the table was empty.

She looked around, for the sound of tiny feet and the squeals of the young girls, but there were none. Matthias, obviously understood who she had been discreetly searching for.

Matthias: They're asleep and ate earlier in the kitchen.

Embarrassed at being found out Vidya smiled and nodded, while still wondering where his wife was. His youngest daughter was less than a year, how could this woman simply not be around to take care of her child? Nannies. Matthias apparently came from a well-to-do family and his wife probably had that luxury.

Her father and Matthias conversed, speaking of the idea, and layout, the size, the structure, the materials. It was all coming together so fast, it seemed that this dream and vision her father and herself had wanted would become a reality under his watchful gaze and skilled hands. Dinner came to a close, and she finally let the question slip, delicately.

Vidya: Your wife was unable to attend Mr. Ryan?

Matthias: Matthias. And yes, you could say that.

He had a faraway look on his face, more amused than upset, as he reached for his cup of tea.

Matthias: my wife, Amelia passed away after the birth of our youngest, it's been about a year.

Her face fell a little. Those poor babies, no mother, so young, their combined age was still less than 6.

Matthias: Don't look so sad. We're fine. Amie knew this was going to happen. She took a risk, and we saw it coming for a while. I'm grateful for the time we spent together. And, I'll always have our girls.

As if on cue, the nanny brought the youngest over for her father to hold, he rubbed her back and the child immediately settled down, her cheek resting on her father's shoulder.

Vidya: How old is she?

Matthias: Mia, is 11 months. Turning one soon.

He smiled as he looked at his daughter, and upon hearing her name the little one looked up with her big green eyes, understanding that she was being discussed.

Her father had a faraway look on his face as he watched the young man and his child. He missed his son so desperately.

Rajendra: Enjoy this time while you have it Matthias, girls grow up so fast, and before you know it, it's time to give them away.

Rajendra got up and caressed his daughter's silky hair before bidding them good night.

Vidya, took his lead and made her way to her room. At the stairs, she risked turning back to look at the two once more , and was surprised to see that he was looking intently at her as well. Their gazes slipped away from each other, it still felt as if their eyes had never pulled away.

Love at first sight, was a peculiar thing.

_________________

Jainandini

We had finished our meal without much discussion, forgoing our personal lives we focused on the little things, and I enjoyed these conversations more than anything else, because he got to know me, without knowing the princess.

Yash: So Nandini, Burger or Roti?

Me: Burger

Yash: Really? I'd take you for a Roti type of girl.

Me: Burger all the way. And you?

Yash: Roti. Man oh man could my mom make some killer Roti.

Me: It's just flour and water Yash.

Yash: Really, does that mean you could make me some?

Can I say no? I've never stepped foot inside a kitchen, and I do know it's just flour and water, but how can I explain to him that I don't know how to make it, when as a poor Indian girl it should be one of my life skills?

Me: Of course I can!

Someone shoot me. Of course I can't!

He grins and gulps down the last of his water, and leans back.

Yash: Well then, looks like I know what I'm having for dinner tomorrow.

Me: what do you mean?

Yash: Well, how about you make me dinner tomorrow.

Me: That's not very gentlemanly, and I never offered.

Yash: Oh come on Nandini! I've got to know how well you can cook before I can marry you and all.

My jaw drops open for a moment, and like a fish out of water I'm almost gasping for air.

Me: What?!

He looks sheepishly at me smiles.

Yash: Ok, it doesn't matter if you can't cook, I'd still take you in a heartbeat.

He winks at me as he pays the cheque and we get up to leave.

My heart won't settle down, and when his hand grasps mine, I swear its about to jump out of my chest.

He speaks quietly to me.

Yash: It's not to risque is it? If I hold your hand like this?

I can only manage to shake my head.

Yash: Nandini, if you don't want to you don't have to you know. I was just kidding about Dinner tomorrow. We can just go out.

For some reason I can't say no to him. Even if I'll break a nail, burn my hands or embarrass myself, I want to see that silly smile on his face, I want him to be happy- especially after the morning he's had. At least I can have some more time with him. Maybe, after the dinner'I could tell him the truth. Show him that, "Look, I'm a princess, but I'd rather be just Nandini with you" but the rest'I don't know how to tell him about the rest.

Me: I'd love to make you some desi dinner tomorrow.

He grins like a kid on Christmas and laughs out loud, leaving me puzzled.

Me: whats so funny?

Yash: I'm just imagining you burning something. Possibly your house and neighbourhood.

Me: What! I can make a couple of Roti's!

Yash: I'm sure you can, if you tried, but babe, you're not the cooking type. None the less, I look forward to it.

He's smart, I'll give him that much. He knows I most likely can't cook. But, even he doesn't know the lies I've been leading him on with. If only he could read my mind, so I wouldn't have to utter the words.

Just like the last time, he drops me outside of the chawl, and insists that he drop me off to my door.

Me: You can't

Yash: why?

Me: Because...my parents...they'll.

My knees are about to fall out from under me, I can almost feel the ground opening up to swallow me whole. He knows, He knows who I am, that I'm lying to him. He...

Me: what?

He sighs and leans against his car, pushes his hands in his pockets and looks at me critically and shakes his head.

Yash: Babe, you just don't fit in here. I can understand if you don't want to tell me where your home is, I know how possessive parents can be about their daughters and not wanting men in their lives. I have..

Me:... three older sisters, I know.

Yash: Yes, but I don't feel comfortable leaving you out here to manage your way home after.

Me: It's broad daylight Yash!

Yash: That's not the point. When we went out for dinner the first time, it was almost 11 at night Nandini! What if something had happened to you! What if you never made it home! And I would have thought that you were snug in bed while your parents would be looking for you.

I feel so bloody guilty, he's not mad that I lied, he's concerned about my safety. He doesn't even know the whole truth yet though. Once he finds out...will he be this understanding?

Yash: Let me drop you off. Please.

Me: No, I'll take a cab, but I can't let you drop me off. Please try and understand.

He gets a little angry, and looks away. Frustrated by my stubbornness.

Yash: I hope you understand that it doesn't matter where you live Nandini, I just want to see you home safe.

Me: I know! And I'll make it home Yash! I'm not a child, I can make it home safe! I've lived in this city for a while! It's not some foreign territory where I'll get lost. I know my way around.

I feel so angry! His concern is almost choking me with this terrible level of guilt, and smothering me with some level of affection that almost makes me feel stupid! It's just ridiculous!

He doesn't back down though.

Yash: does it look like I care Nandini?

He says it in a mild tone, almost pacifying me like I'm some kid.

Me: I don't care if you care or not Yash! I'm telling you I can make my way home!

It's not even about the Palace and all it's the simple fact that he can't take no for an answer! Who the hell does he think he is! I'm princess Jainandini Damnit! Ok, so he doesn't know about the princess part, but men need to understand that we aren't some fragile piece of glass that will shatter if they can't guide, hold and protect us!

Yash: Why are you getting so worked up?

He's not even mad! He isn't even frustrated, and here I am practically bouncing out of my skin!

Me: I'm not worked up!

Yash: Then why are you yelling?

Me: I'm not yelling!

Yash: Really?

What is it with this guy! It's like he's baiting me! I feel like smacking his stupid, perfect smile in!

Me: You know what your problem is! You think you know everything! Blah, Blah, Blah. Nandini this, Nandini that, I did this, and I did that, and you want this and you want that. Well, I don't care if you want to see me home. I can get home damn it! It's 3 in the afternoon. When I met you I was biking alone wasn't I? what Makes you think that I can't get home! I can get home.

I keep on going on and on, like someone had let air out of a balloon, and I'm so worked up that I Suddenly stop talking when pulls me up against him.

There aren't words to describe this feeling of surprise, my feet are a foot off the ground, and we're chest to chest, one of his arms is holding my up by being wrapped around my waist, his other hand, is at the nape of my neck, reaching into my hair.

Yash: Are you done talking yet?

I don't think I said anything, and the silence must have been enough, because he reached down and kissed me. It wasn't tentative, or curious, He obviously knew what he was doing.I swear I can feel his lips smile against mine as we kiss. In this moment I feel every inch of his soul pouring into mine, and somehow I can feel mine easing into his. It's more then just something physical...it's almost holy. His body is leaning against his car, and I against him, hands braced upon his shoulders, moving towards his hair. It's soft, smooth and silky, I can't see him as I've closed my eyes lost in this moment, but I can feel him, and the sincerity in this moment.

The world has slipped away, and all I can feel his him, even the air I breath has his essence around it.

I've been kissed before, but somehow, with Yash, everything feels like the first time.

Love at first sight, is a peculiar thing.

Reeha

Originally posted by: reeha...k

Hi Everyone!

I should be updating later this week (Hopefully today if I don't get too caught up)

As you should know, I alternate my updates: One week UVC, one Week JNC.

If I miss a week, I still wait till I've updated till I do the other one (Meaning, I should have updated the JNCs LAST week, but didn't get time- that means the UVCs will happen NEXT week not this week) Confusing, I know. In the begining I had loads of time for this, but things are a lot more hectic now: That doesn't mean I'm quitting- I love writing too much to do that, but it just means I'm a lot slower. I know it sucks, but its better then me stopping, right?😆

Also, please note, I do not PM anyone, I'm sincerly sorry about that but it's too time consuming, I barely have time to update as it is (The UVC list was getting SCAREY Big)

Thanks for your patience, I'll reply to the additional lovley comments in a bit!

Reeha