IPKKND FF: KHUSHI by JALEBI JANE Thread 1: EPISODE 001-052 - Page 10

KHUSHI by Maya (EPISODE 004)

THOUGH KHUSHI WAS NOT NEXT to him when Arnav woke from the nap, the impression of her hand nestled within his, remained. How had he failed to realize all these months that every time he was in Khushi's presence, she had become more deeply, more indelibly etched into his life---to the point where he could not imagine life without her. And if that sounded suspiciously like the over-used-over-hyped word pyaar then he would say, "rubbish."

He had no interest in love. 

His interest in Khushi was elemental: he felt a strong urge to protect her and an even stronger need to have her with him always. That day when she hid at the temple and refused to come home with him, he had not been able to see nor think straight. And when she had stood in that drenched saree, her hair wet and wild, and said, I'm not coming back!' it had taken everything in him to not fling her over his shoulder and put her behind lock and key.

It was quite simple. Khushi must remain with him.

Yet he would be deluding himself if he believed that was all.

He felt an intense physical pull towards her. This he had felt from their very first meeting---and this he had fought against ever since. It was a degree of attraction he had never felt previously. It was beyond attraction. It was an obsession to possess her. He wanted to absorb her. Devour her. It didn't matter what state she was in---when she was charming, he couldn't take his eyes off her. When she was impudent, he couldn't keep his hands off her. And that was the problem. 

He wanted her. Fully and completely. The thought alone made him sexually restless. He left his bed and stepped out to the pool area, where the hot midday sun matched his scorching appetite. If only she was not so bloody idealistic!

She lived in a fairy-tale world of declarations of love and romantic devotion. That was not Arnav Singh Raizada. He wanted her but how would she respond to his unsentimental nature, he wondered. Would she balk at his lust? He knew from their close encounters that she was not unaffected by him. He had read desire in her eyes and knew that his touch stirred her---but she always backed away or averted her eyes when the intensity escalated.

Except at Diwali, a voice within reminded. 

Arnav's feet carried him to the same wall where Khushi had waited in breathless anticipation for his kiss. He stretched out his arm and placed his palm on the cool concrete. He had stepped away that night, not Khushi. Could it be possible that Khushi was still waiting for him to return? A smile broke from his lips. When would he learn that it was always a mistake to underestimate the woman who called herself Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada?

KHUSHI WAS WITH ANJALI in the front room learning to read a knitting pattern when she heard Arnav call out, "is nobody in this house interested in having lunch today?"

Lunch?!

Khushi instinctively popped out of the chair and exchanged a worried glance with Anjali.

"Chotte, we've just left the table---" Anjali began.

"---forgive me," Khushi interrupted, "We---that is, I---that is, you---matlab, I thought you were still asleep. So I told everyone that they should start lunch, and that you would---that you wouldn't wish for them to wait."

She shot him a quick look. He looked more amused than irritated. Was he unwell? His behaviour had certainly been odd this morning. "I'll prepare a plate," she stated, already moving towards the kitchen, throwing a glance at him over her shoulder. "It will just be a minute..." her words trailing away.

But to her horror, he followed her into the kitchen. There he leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. She moved between fridge and stove and felt his eyes follow her movements as she heated the food---which she had put away only minutes earlier---and prepared his thali.

"I'll serve you at the dining table," she said, hoping he would take the hint and leave the kitchen. His proximity always discomposed her---that was nothing new; however, today there was something else about him. She felt the sort of disquietude just before one fell into a hunter's trap.

His not getting angry was never a good sign.

But he didn't make a move to leave the kitchen. "I'll eat here," he said, "you will feed me."

"Kya?!"

"Kya kya?  I want to be fed by my wife's hands," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Khushi dropped the ladle into the pot, and turned towards him to express in clear language what she thought of his audacity. And to also add a few choice words on how just because she was drunk last night---and had slept in his bed---twice slept in his bed---and who authorized him that he could take her hand?!---when she was silenced by the sight of his bottom lip curling into that familiar smirk.

He was playing with her! How dare he play these hubby-wifey games with her?

She held her tongue and turned to pour some water into a glass. If Arnav Singh Raizada wanted to play, she would play.