Shackles of Love#23#MG Chapter 59 - Page 84

CHAPTER 59:

Maan lay wide awake, unable to sleep because of the quivering woman in his arms, he kept rubbing her back to soothe her and make her comfortable. There was a slight bump on her right forehead where she had been hurt. He caressed her face slowly and pecked her bump, whispering a husky, "Go to sleep Geet. Mai yahi hu. Tumhare pass." And as if she heard him, her fidgeting stopped and she tightened her hand which was holding onto his vest, sighing.

He kept stroking her gently to assure her of his presence but slowly the tiredness of the past couple of days caught up with him and his eyes drooped shut watching her sleep.

He must have dozed off for a few hours because he was alerted by the restlessness of her soft body which was cuddled into him. Looking down he found Geet over half of his body. Upon instinct his body tilted into hers slightly allowing her to hold him by his waist more comfortably as her leg went over his legs.

He was just begging Geet's Babaji for some mercy when he heard her mumbling, "Maan...I hate you."

His eyes popped open at that statement and he started panicking at her reaction, "Did she misunderstand their closeness?" he worried. He shook her and she raised her head to stare straight into his eyes sleepily. He wanted to assure her that nothing had happened, but he felt something weird was going on. Peering at her closely, he saw that her eyes were glazed and unfocused, as if she is in some sort of daze. "Must be the effect of the medicines!" He concluded.

He shook her, "Geet! Utho! Hosh me aao!" But she just kept staring at him, and burrowing more deeply into him, holding him as if afraid that he would disappear if she let go. Panicking at her condition, he pulled out his phone and went a little away, dialing the doctors no.

After he had described all that had happened and Geet's current weird behavior, the doctor assured him that it was just the effect of the medication and it would wear off soon. She just needed to sleep it off.

Heaving a sigh of relief, he turned back to Geet who was still gazing soulfully at him, now lying on her back.

He came and sat beside her, but to his surprise, Geet held her hands out to him, as if she wanted him to pick her up.

Not able to deny the pleading in her eyes, he took her in his arms and cuddled her on his lap, leaning back against the wall as he tried to make her sleep again.

Geet's hands went around him and she snuggled close to him, drawing warmth from his body.

Just as he thought that she had slept, her voice broke the silence again, "I hate you Maan…"

"Kya..." he mumbled, trying to get comfortable which was nearly impossible with her moving around on his lap.

"Haan, I hate you Maan. Aap bahot bure ho." She continued mumbling as her hand made its way to his stomach and her hands kind of caressed the bare skin peeping between his vest and jeans, moving upwards. Her nearness was already playing havoc with his senses and now her innocently fiery touches added to his ardor.

However, this hate thing was not going down smoothly with him.

"Kyu..." he questioned, obviously disgruntled, "In ladkiyon ka kuch samajh nahi aata. Jab ise khud se door karta tha, tab mujhe 'I love you' kehte nahi thakti thi, aur ab, jab wohi jazbaat sun na aur mehsoos karna chahta hoon toh..." Here he was playing the good guy, killing himself with her nearness and madam was busy hating him, he sulked.

Her hand was now pressing his chest and roaming his biceps. Obviously the hate did not extend to touching and feeling him, he thought with slight frustration.

"I hate your Tai Chi…" She was murmuring as her hands started poking his muscular forearms.

He quickly looked down at her. "Surely she was mad, why hate my tai-chi?" he glanced at her, and found her busy admiring (at least it looked like admiration to him,) him.

"Maan, pyaar kiya aur woh bhi ek pagal se. Badhai ho!" He thought to himself.

"Hmmm..." That was all the answer she deserved.

"I hate your lips..." she continued.

Now this was getting more intolerable. Her soft fingers moved to his face to feel his lips. He felt his pulse go out of control, as he felt her caressing his lips. It would be so easy to crush her to him and let her keep hating his lips from now on, he thought longingly. Still knowing she was hurt and probably delusional from that injection, he just uttered another "Hmmm."

"I hate your blue shirt...," the hands were now all over his torso again.

Things were now getting interesting. "Blue shirt hmmm…..!"

He groaned out loud as he twisted himself slightly away from her. His body reacted strongly to all her caressing. "Great ending to a great day, aaj khana toh chodo, neend bhi nahi milne wali hai. Aur pyaar kar lo Mr. Khurrana!" He snorted.

"Certifiable pagal hai yeh ladki aur mujhe bhi kardegi!" He pulled her arms away from him and quickly pushed her slightly away from him, trying to get her to sleep on the ground again. But her hands suddenly turned like shackles, holding on tight, refusing to let go and the look on her face was that of a disgruntled child, denied her cookie. He feared she would start crying if he didn't let her have her way. Surrendering to the inevitable, he once again lay down and hauled her into his arms, trying to dampen down his libido which was again gaining enthusiasm with all her encouragement.

Not in the mood to make things easier for him, Geet came back to lie half over him, making herself comfortable on his chest.

"I hate your cheeks…" she muttered, frowning.

But this time her tone was more pained and it meant like she really meant them. The pouting evident in the previous 'hate you's' was missing, which Maan didn't miss.

He wondered what was wrong with his cheeks as her hands suddenly moved towards his face.

But instead of caressing them like she had done his lips and chest, she vigorously rubbed them, as if trying to wipe of something.

"Did she not like his beard?" he wondered, peeved. "Well he had it on good authority that girls considered it HOT, he reminded himself arrogantly. He was not doing away with it, he wasn't!" He determined stubbornly. Then looking at the frown marring her face, he melted grudgingly, "Or maybe for her he could try…"

Curious to know, he asked her, "Why?"

Her reply shocked him to the core.

"She touched you." She muttered painfully, rubbing his cheek more vigorously, scratching her fingernails down them, and making him wince in pain. "Maine socha tha aap mere ho. Sirf mere!"

Maan was astonished over her statements, the pain in her voice pricking his heart and he ignored the slight burn he felt as her nails raked his skin and asked. "Who 'she' Geet? Tum kya keh rahi ho? Mai to sirf tumhara hi hu. Geet ka Maan."

"Jhooth bol rahe hai aap. Usne aapko chua aur aapne usko chune diya. Aap bhi sab ki tarah mujhe chodna chahte ho na? Door jana chahte ho mujhse! Uske paas wapas jana chahte ho!" A sob broke her sentence, and a tear fell down her cheek.

Enlightenment dawned on Maan as he suddenly realized what Geet was talking about. So she had seen him and Sameera that night. That's what she was talking about. And she had obviously not stayed to hear the full conversation. All her mumblings and words now made sense. Her strange and distant behavior that night, her leaving house, everything now made perfect sense.

He wanted to rant and rave at his stupidity which had nearly cost him her life, but there would be time for that later. Right now, Geet was his priority. As far as he was concerned, Sameera didn't exist.

He caught Geet's hand which was still rubbing his cheek and kissed her palm, whispering "No baby! I will never leave you. I am sorry. Main tumhe chod kar kahi kisi ke pass nahi jaa raha. We are going to be together, forever. Promise."

"Pakka?" she whispered, slightly mollified.

"Haan baba, pakka." Her arms once again tightened around him, and this time he just pulled her tighter against him, unwilling to allow anything to come between them.

Just as he thought that she was over with her quota of torturing him for the day, her rambling started again.

"Did she always talk in her sleep? Or was it really the effect of the medicines?" He wondered. He had never heard her before, not that he had been at close quarters with a sleepy Geet before. But luck was suddenly on his side, giving him a new insight into her thoughts.

"Most of all I hate your eyes..." She placed her cheek on his smooth chest, and her hand went towards his eyes. Scared for his poor eyes, Maan caught her hand midway, waiting for the explanation for her so called hate.

He prayed that it had nothing to do with his 'cheek-wala-hate', he didn't want her scratching them out.

But the words which followed hurt him more than any physical injury.

"They only have hate for me. Kyu? Why do you hate me?"

A small sob escaped her as she tried to turn away from him. "I have only ever seen hate or indifference in peoples' eyes for me, ever since mama and papa passed away. Aapki bhi aankhon me wohi hai na?"

Her sob broke him. All the love that he had always wanted from the world was given by Geet unconditionally and he only had given her anger and disdain. After everything that he had put her through she now believed in his hate more than her own love. He was at fault and he would fix it if that was the last thing he did. He held her close raining tiny kisses in her hair and on her forehead trying to wipe away the pain that he had always given her. For a long time he just held on to her, smoothing her hair, patting her back, saying sorry to her, cooing words of promises to her.

He stroked her back and her sobs eased. Her even breathing was an indication that finally she had slipped back in deep slumber. He pulled her tight to himself holding her secure against himself.

And she came willingly, resuming her position on his shoulder with her arms around him, as if she had been sleeping that way for years.

Sleep, however, evaded him. Who could ever think that someone like Geet who always made others laugh was put through so many atrocities? He was angry at Darji and himself. His inner self mocked him for wallowing in his own miseries and he looked at the fragile form in his arms. She wasn't physically as strong as him but her strength was admirable. He vowed to himself that he would do all he can now onwards to put balme on her wounded soul and bring her back to life.

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Precap:

Morning after😆