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A/N- It is perhaps the most random thing i've written. You are forewarned.
Impasse
Khushi brushed her hair down till it was shining under the soft lights of the bedroom. Her hands hesitantly reached for the extravagant make-up kit that lay open in front of her. She dabbed some blush on to a brush and brought it up to her face for what seemed like the hundredth time.
Her khol lined eyes snapped back and forth between the brush in her hands and her pale face staring back at heron the mirror. After a resigned sigh she dropped the brush in the kit, closed it carefully and put back in the drawer.
The stool screeched and reeled back as she stood up in haste, looking fiercely at the mirror. She assessed her entire form for the evening - a red colored saree with a black sequence border, a cap sleeved black blouse, and black sandals to match.
Out of - what can only be termed as desperation - she had tied her saree a brave 2 inches lower than what she was used to, leaving most of her waist bear.
Jewellery, she realized, was what she lacked. She turned back heading towards her cupboard from where she retrieved her case.
A pair of simple black drops would do it, surely. And some black bangles, of course. Her neck would be bear; save for her mangalsutra, which in itself matched her attire perfectly.
She walked back to the mirror, her case in hand and warily peered at her form. She looked into the case again where a black and gold hip belt lay. She didn't know what had prompted her to buy it, he had asked her (almost begged) to pick some jewellery the other day and this one had completely grabbed her attention and she bought it on a whim.
She took it out and without dwelling on it too much, lest her confidence flatters, put it on.
This would have to do it.
--
The house was empty; everybody had gone to the satsang save Arnav. He was at the charity event organised by AR. It was the biggest one in town, as it should be, and all the creme de la creme of the business world were expected to attend.
Khushi was never fond of the pomp lifestyle of the rich and famous and had usually avoided social gathering, but not this time. Not with her attending as well.
Platonic be damned. That woman had been 'seeing' her husband and one doesn't simply stop loving Arnav Sigh Raizada, it was impossible and she only knew too well.
So in the crudest terms - she was going to mark her territory.
She walked out of the house and towards the valet that he had sent for her. She got in and motioned that she was ready to leave.
Her eys were unfocused as she stared at the blurring pictures outside. Her insecurities were childish and unwarranted. She knew that. She knew that every time her husband had told her in that low voice of his that he only ever loved her.
And yet here she was dressed to 'win' her husband who was already hers like a silly school girl. He will laugh at her, she was sure of it.
She twilled the pallu of her saree uneasily as the car finally entered the fancy hotel where the event was organised.
She took a deep breath as the cold winter air made her shiver. Perhaps the bear waist plan was a bad idea, she thought as she wrapped her hands around herself and walked inside.
It was like walking into another world, one where she didn't belong. The room was lit up in a soft blue ambiance with crystal decorations, almost like diamonds, hanging from the ceiling. There were stylish couches that filled up the rooms on either side (for business talk she presumed), leaving the dance floor empty for people to mingle. Further down there was bar with high stools and posh couples sipping wine.
Her eyes immediately roamed about trying to find her husband and it was entirely too easy to spot Arnav Singh Raizada. People like him always stood out in a crowd. His stance (steady and confident), his attire (the black tux and stark white shirt), his voice (low and reassuring) - they all drew attention no matter where he was.
Just as she was about to walk up to him, he noticed who he was talking to. Her stomach immediately went whoosh and she felt like she was physically sick. It was her - wearing a too small red dress (like she too knew it was his favourite color) and clutching, no doubt a 2 lakh rupees, handbag.
They were only talking; she knew that, probably business, but the way her eyes were lit up and his comfortable demeanour made it seem so much more intimate. Like they were a perfect couple in their perfect world of the rich and classy.
She turned back so quickly that it almost left her dizzy. She needed to get away from the scene. She almost ran towards the exit, craving for the cold air again.
The heels were impossible to run in and as fate would have it she tripped. She expected to fall and make a fool of herself as she always did, but warm familiar hands caught her pulling her up into an embrace.
"What's the rush?" He spoke into her ear, making her shiver.
"I needed some air."
He released her, putting some space in between them and he slowly assessed her form, in a way only he could. His eyes went from her biting lips to the toe peeping from her heels.
Her eyes snapped up to the floor on an impulse and she twirled her pallu again.
"Are you trying to kill me?" The question was so low that it was like he was talking to himself.
Her eyes on their own accord met his deep, smouldering ones.
It doesn't matter how many times she's looked into his eyes, they always made her weak in the knees and increased her heart beat tenfold. Her breathing was laboured and her cheeks were flushed.
His hands reached up to her cheeks and his thumb gently brushed something away.
"There was something there."
She highly doubted it.
"Why are you here Khushi?"
How rude, she thought. Her eyebrows furrowed and her pout was on the ready.
"I mean, why this party. You never came for any of the before."
She was caught and she knew her act was up, but damned if she let him win.
"I wanted to wear the hip-belt." Her voice dry and dead-pan.
A smirk lined his handsome face and he folded his hands, regarding her carefully.
"Really?"
"Ji."
In swift, impressive, movement his hands went about her waist bringing her close and peering deeply into her eyes.
"What was that Khushi?" His hands played with the tiny extensions on the hip-belt.
"I.. I.."
This was not the plan, he was supposed be the babbling mess, not her.
"Arnav."
It was like as if her bubble broke, a tiny pick and it went crashing.
He released her, but she instinctively moved closer to him closing the gap he had put between them. She was marking her territory - like a cave woman.
"Mr Sinnah wants a word Arnav." He gave her a nod and turned towards her.
"Save me a dance." With that he walked off leaving Sheetal and her alone.
She decided to go back inside as the air between them became awkward by the second.
"One minute Khushi."
She halted turning to look at Sheetal.
"I know what you're thinking."
"Do you really? I don't think you do."
"I am not here for Arnav, Khushi. "
"I never said that."
"You didn't have to. I am not blind Khushi."
She really didn't want to have this conversation; she wanted to be anywhere but here.
"Listen to me Khushi." Sheetal's voice held a trace of desperation. "I've lived alone for almost my entire life and I'm not here to change that. Aarav and I didn't come here looking for Arnav. We're fine exactly the way we are."
"I didn't ask Sheetal-ji."
"And I'm not going to answer the question you've been itching to ask me Khushi."
Her eyes widened a little.
"I know how things seem but I beg you to let things be, Aarav is all I have."
"I don't understand."
"I think you do Khushi."
They stood there staring at each other.
"Sheetal-ji, I truly don't understand what you're saying. But I never lie to my husband. If I ever come to know about something I think he should know, I won't keep it from him."
There was an edge to her voice, perhaps even fear.
"Then we are at an impasse."
"It would seem like it."
Sheetal squared her shoulders, gave her a brief glance and walked away.
That little talk with Sheetal had put a some things into perspective for Khushi. She was sure of one thing - she loved Arnav, her Laad Governor husband. And she was certain that he loved her. As long as that was clear, they could face anything.
a/n- I exist. On the occasion.
Feel free to tell me how much this sucked. The initial idea was to show two strong women, i'm not sure how much that came through. I really don't want Sheetal to be another boring vamp. So yeah, ta da, random OS.
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