Cherished Wounds ( Updated Ch 14 ) Pg 140 22/06 - Page 86

Anjali wiped away the thick layer of dust from over the black and white picture, the teardrops from her eyes, making the glossy paper, glisten under the soft sunlight.

'Chotte, I love him.'

'Di, you have known him for what, a month? And you love him?'

'Yes. I do. And I want to marry him. Tomorrow.'

'Di, this is ridiculous.'

Every day, every waking moment, Anjali wished, she had listened to her brother. Paid heed to his wise words. But her treacherous heart had betrayed her, every time.

She looked at the glossy worn out photo paper, her fingers drawing unknown patterns over her brother's chiseled face, his arms hugging her shoulders, offering protection, warmth and above all, home.

A home she had long, left behind. But she was back. For now.

She decided it was time she called Khushi.

---

'Aakash,' Arnav called out into the OPD softly.

Bhai, what happened?' Aakash asked, walking towards him, into the buzzing corridors. 'Woh, I came to stock up on father's medicines, 'Arnav said, absent-mindedly, searching the corridors for a certain face. 'Toh Bhai, you could have just someone'oh, she's in the ER, we are giving polio vaccines to the school children today, 'Aakash, replied, smiling slightly, at the confused man in front him.

'What---?' Arnav asked in mock horror, unbeknownst to the slight blush that had crept up under his neck.

'Shall we go to the ER,' Aakash prodded, as Arnav quietly followed him.

---

Khushi tucked back several wet strands of hair, from over her face, as she vaccinated yet another mewling kid.

Her mind was still preoccupied with what Arnav had said hours before in the morning.

'Will you come today'to the hospital?' Khushi asked expectantly. Arnav ignored the silent plea in her voice and answered stiffly, 'I can't be around you always Khushi, I have work.'

There was a little disturbance on the phone, moments of tense silence, before Khushi spoke. 'Is everything all right? Every time I speak to you' you always seem to be on the edge,' her voice came in stammers, bordering irritation at his frequent mood swings. 'Why am I always on the edge'why have you become so demanding Khushi? Arnav barked onto the phone, his voice dripping with unexplained annoyance. But it vanished as soon as he heard her catch her breath, and what he perceived to be a stifled sob, and then a click, and the line was cut.

And had it not been for that arrogant man, she had so hopelessly fallen for, she wouldn't have been late for work, and would've dried her hair effectively, before leaving for the hospital. Screw you Arnav, I'm think I won't even tell you about the transfer, she thought, her eyes brimming with tears that she furiously tried to blink away.

---

Arnav watched her, as her otherwise stable fingers, fumbled with the syringes.

She knew he was there.

A smug smile was about to cross his face, but when he caught the slight trace of distress in those puffy, bloodshot eyes, he flinched. He knew he was the source of it. And as much as he wanted to stay away from her, he wanted to make sure she was all right.

And now that he was there, behind her, she refused to acknowledge him. And he refused to budge from the metal seat right outside the ER doors.

---

He was here. He had come. To see her, she thought fervently, trying to shrug away the small smile that threatened to appear on her face, at the very image of him, from the corner of her eyes. But, as soon as she remembered their conversation earlier, a sudden uneasiness filled her up, making her wonder, if he felt the same way, as she did.

He had, after all, point blank stated to her, that he didn't love her. Yet, his small gestures had always been a warm reassurance. But his recent edgy behavior made her question herself, and her understanding.

Khushi felt his very familiar gaze penetrating through her back. The kind of gaze that warms up every pore of your skin, kindling a slow fire in the deep recesses of your body that could be extinguished, only if you braved to return the gaze.

But she wouldn't. She didn't feel her usual, calm, saintly self today. There was an anger seething in her, and she liked it. It was new to her, but what scared her, was the intensity it was brewing up in her otherwise calm mind, to make Arnav feel exactly how he had made her feel in the morning.

---

She created a sinful image, with the drops of water dripping off her hair and drenching the thin maroon cashmere of her cardigan. He resisted the urge to walk over to her and fist her hair in his hands, inhaling and drinking in the fragrant water.

He realized, after almost an hour had passed, after some bemused glances from Aakash and the other paramedics that Khushi wouldn't come out of the ER, till he was sitting there, so he did what he did best.

The art of deception, or so he liked to call it.

---

He left. Left without saying a word, or even apologizing, Khushi wondered out loud, as she slowly made her way out of the ER, staring hard at the empty chair that had been occupied by Arnav seconds ago.

But before she could think any more, she felt a tug at her hand, and she was pulled into the locker room.

---

Pinning her to the hard wood, he asked into the darkness, shifting slightly to get a better view of her face.

'What do you think you are doing?'

She didn't reply. Instead, she twisted her wrists, trying to get out from his grasp, squirming beneath him.

'Khushi'' he growled suddenly. And this time she snapped. 'WHAT?'

'I asked you something. What were you doing?' He bellowed, once again, this time moving a little backwards, giving her enough space to breathe, but not for a moment loosening his grip on her hands. It was clear to him that she was reeling with fury.

'I was working, before you yanked me to this door like a barbarian,' she lashed out at him, and before he could speak, she continued, not bothering to wait for his reply.

'And before you ask me once again, what I was doing, the answer to which you already know, how about you tell me what you are doing? You walk around, doing things that get me all confused in the head, make me feel like you care, but then you say things, that make me think otherwise. Why''

The rest of the words died on the confines of her lips, as Arnav's own engulfed her completely. What began as a chaste kiss, with its primary objective to just try and stop her from saying the words he dreaded to hear, but had to one day, took a more carnal turn. He tried to pour in his own conflicting emotions, trying to make her understand with his actions, that he couldn't do with words, apologizing for making her cry.

He delved deeper, and after her initial resistance, she relaxed, slumping her shoulders, as her released hands drove their way into his hair. Hi own free hands, glided under her cardigan, making patterns on the drenched surface of her thin kurta.

They stood like that for a few long minutes, his hands fisting up her damp hair, as he placed a scorching trail of feather light kisses down the arch of her neck, as her hands, roved over his chest, exploring things she hadn't before.

She felt him bury his head further, suckling at the base of her throat, as his hands, worked toward sliding down the cardigan off her shoulders, and tugging her closer to him. Seconds later, she felt his fingers, lowering the kurta off her shoulders, as he inhaled the intoxicating scent of her. Khushi felt his palms, slowly being placed over her breasts. And that's when he stilled. He looked up into her eyes, under the faint glow of the yellow light, seeking permission. But all he found was unhindered love, clouded by passion. He claimed her lips once again, this time more gently, relishing the taste of her, as his hands, stroked over her pliant mounds, that evoked a fire that raged in her belly, storming towards her thighs, and edging lower, as Arnav himself, found himself slowly losing all control, when he felt her lips, that after a second of being freed from his, found their way to his neck.

He lifted her up, placing her on the raised platform of the dressing table, moving in between her legs. Arnav rested his forehead against hers, as his hand slid beneath her kurta, gently squeezing the hot skin of her belly, as they moved upwards. She gasped, when his deft fingers, brushed knowingly over the lace of her bra. 'Khushi',' he groaned, claiming her lips once again, but this time just trying to calm her trembling form, as his fingers slowly dipped into the bra, his callous hands cupping her, slowly lifting the mound upwards, providing his ravenous eyes, with the voluptuous view of her fullness, as he bent down, flicking his tongue over the softness, placing searing kisses, and earning her very audible moans. They breathed in heavily, as Khushi pulled him closer, this time initiating the kiss herself. But she stopped him seconds after, when she felt him struggling to take off her kurta. 'Not here Arnav, not on a dressing table,' she whispered, and felt him backing away slightly.

But when Arnav saw her lowering her gaze, in obvious embarrassment, at their disheveled states, he placed a small lingering kiss on her crimson cheek, and bent lower, and nibbled on her earlobe saying, 'Tonight, at eight, okay?' He felt her bury her head into his chest, as he chuckled into her hair.

---

Tonight, at eight, okay? These words buzzed in her head like maniac bullets, refusing to let her work. Her fingers fumbled, as she dropped down things clumsily, a blush creeping up her skin, every time, his name came up.

She stood under the shower, this time, a chilling cold one, wanting to remove the almost permanent blush on her skin and to relieve her skin that seemed to be just as scorched as they were hours ago. Even as the brutally cold water sluiced down her body, she felt his hands sliding down her form. She giggled to herself, as she put on the only silk nightwear she had, forgetting the harsh weather, and only waiting for the clock to strike eight.

Khushi realized that he was the one man, whose one look made her stomach churn; made her feel things she didn't want to.

Arnav afflicted her; like the symptoms of a disease invisible to the naked eye, his pictures enveloped her mind and attached themselves to her insides with each passing moment, each giving rise to a different sensation typically unassociated with the pleasurable visuals. He made her feel, in such obscure, bizarre manners that she found herself lost, unable to decipher the logic in my emotions, incapable of mapping the neural pathways that were causing the somewhat off-beat constrictions her chest. How could such wonderful pictures have such volatile results?

Khushi realized that day, fully, that she had fallen hard for this man.

Unconditionally, and irrevocably.

And now there was no going back.

---