A/N: Hey guys, I'm Pratiksha. I thought of adapting one of my stories for Arnav-Khushi. This is a one shot with a bit of fantasy and mystery. Hope you like it!
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Dark Angel
Lightening briefly illuminated the tall tree tops, lining the edges of the busy road. Khushi rushed down the wet pathway, cursing as her crimson dupatta snagged on another umbrella. The owner gave her an irate look, one she returned in an uncharacteristic display of annoyance. She pulled at it impatiently, single minded focus on getting home before it began to pour again.
At the intersection, cars honked as the traffic lights flickered, dulling to a deep golden from ruby on the lane she intended to cross. She watched in dismay as it flickered again, remaining golden as time ticked by; a classic case of malfunction in the winter rain, one that she knew always resulted in chaos. As expected, the drivers in all the lanes hit the gas together, trying to be among the lucky ones to escape the traffic.
Khushi chewed on her bottom lip, becoming increasingly nervous as thunder rumbled in the distance. She felt the first few drops of rain on her arm, a portend of the heavy showers that had been predicted this evening. There was no way she was reaching home without getting drenched. Her parents would be livid.
A strong gust of wind teased mahogany strands of her hair onto her face. For a moment she was reminded of something, a time long ago when she had loved these rains. As a little girl, she had sung and danced on these roads, much to the amusement of passersby. Her authoritarian father had been indulgent, allowing her more liberties as a young girl than he did as a fully grown woman.
Brushing her hair away, she smiled in reminiscence, a faint yearning on her soft lips to go back to simpler times. A time when she never had to worry about propriety, a time when her naiveté kept her sheltered from societal censure...when she was free to be truly herself.
Shaking herself out of her reverie, Khushi moved to cross the road with the other pedestrians, lagging a little behind. At that moment, the clouds burst open, the rain pouring down in torrents. She increased her pace, shielding her head with her purse.
Just as she reached the middle of the crossing, the lights changed to a brilliant green. Before her eyes, the crawling traffic suddenly surged, throwing her into panicked confusion. Horns blared noisily, uncaring of a lone woman, caught between the incoming vehicles.
Her heart thudding painfully, she shrieked as a truck skirted dangerously close. Muddy water splashed onto her kurti, drenching her from the waist down. As she swivelled to avoid another collision, a luxurious silver sedan screeched to a jarring stop behind her. Shivering in the wake of an adrenaline rush, she covered her face, hiding from the terrifying world like a child.
Khushi flinched as the car door banged, certain of incurring the wrath of an irate driver. The headlights illuminated the space behind her closed lids. She could hear the impatient honks behind the car as the lane got steadily congested.
She knew she should apologise to the driver and attempt to cross the road again. They were blocking the way. But she found herself unable to move. It was like she was caught in a limbo, where the world moved, while she stayed motionless. It reminded her of a recurring nightmare, when she was in a free fall, with no end in sight. She swayed on the spot, reeling from the mind numbing fear.
And then, there was a touch.
She felt it on the back of her hand, a gentle anchor at first; then steady pressure to lower it from her face. She concentrated on it, fixating on the soothing warmth instead of the dread that had overtaken her senses.
"Hey. Tum theek ho?"
The tenor was deep, a husky murmur, unmistakably masculine. He had addressed her as "tum", instead of the more formal "aap", she registered. The familiarity, however strange, settled her frayed nerves into a semblance of calm.
The mild pressure of his hand on her cold ones increased subtly. Obeying a silent command, Khushi lowered them from her face. She winced, as the heavy rain and strong winds lashed her skin. The man withdrew his touch, making her feel an odd sense of loss. She hesitantly opened her eyes, wet sooty lashes lifting gracefully. Her brown eyes saw an unforgettable face, inches from hers. She sucked in a breath, partly at the nearness, partly at the raw male beauty in front of her.
This man is beautiful, she thought, blinking in dazed admiration. Thick brows framed piercing black eyes, that were looking down at her in soft compassion. He had a straight nose, leading to lips that were just full enough to be sensuous. Barring the strong jawline peppered generously with stubble, the man resembled a dark angel; his tall, athletic form framed to artistic perfection between the halo of the street lights and the stormy skies. On second thought, Khushi amended, that stubborn outline of his jaw added a rakish charm... one that she found both intriguing and unsettling.
She started as the vehicles honked more insistently, pulling her rudely out of her fanciful rumination. The man glanced back, raising an imposing finger and gesturing at the drivers to circumvent his car. That easy self assurance spoke to her of a privileged upbringing, or a powerful stature.
When he looked back at her, she could swear his iris was alight like a burning ring of coal, a subtle amber surrounded by twin pools of black velvet. At the moment, there was such concern in their depths, that she felt compelled to reassure him with a slow timid smile.
Visibly relieved, he took her hand, her delicate fingers looking tiny in his huge palm. Mutely, she allowed him to lead her through the swarm of vehicles, side stepping the onslaught and drawing her along like a skilled dancer in the rain.
He stopped at the pavement, gesturing for her to step onto it. The slight height allowed them to be at eye level. "Tumhara ghar paas mein hai?" She swallowed as he continued to hold onto her hand.
"Yes." She cleared her throat, feeling flush with embarrassment. "Bas 5 minutes door hai mera ghar, on the opposite lane."
"Do you want me to drop you home?" The question brought back a trickle of fear into her heart. It broke the spell the devilishly handsome man had brought her under. What if her father saw her walking home with a strange man? What if one of her neighbours saw them here, and told him about it?
"Nahi! Main chali jaungi," she hastened to reassure him, stepping away self consciously. He raised a brow as she tugged her hand free, a pinkish hue on her pale cheeks. "I am sorry. Woh...woh mujhe late ho raha hai. Papa fikar kar rahe honge. I have to go."
He gazed at her for a long unnerving moment, noticing the bent head and the hands nervously fidgeting at her dupatta. She stood there, wet and shivering, bearing the weight of his scrutiny.
"Sure," he drawled, turning away abruptly as if he had lost interest.
"Th-thank you!" she blurted out behind him, making him stop in his tracks. Khushi bit down on her lower lip, forcing herself to speak calmly. "Thank you so much, mister...mister...?"
"Arnav." Hands in his pockets, he gave her a sideways glance. "Be careful on the way home...Khushi."
Her eyes widened in shock. A sudden chill seized her in a viselike grip. raising goosebumps down her arms. He didn't wait for a reaction, walking briskly and disappearing in the pouring rain.
She stood there long after he was gone, her mind scrambling for logical reasons as to why a beautiful stranger knew her name. When she finally moved towards her home, her body soaked and shivering, Khushi knew with terrifying certainty, that they would meet again.
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