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hand-written-dreams · 1 month ago

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CRIMSON SHADE

Chapter 15

Chasing Chaos

Run, baby, run, run for your life

I'ma tear out your heart,

it'll always be mine.

- ( The song of the chapter is 'RUNRUNRUN' by Dutch Melrose.)

The night is thick with silence, the kind that presses down on you, thick and heavy. Any other night, she might have found peace in this stillness. But not tonight. The moon hangs low, its silver light spilling over the asphalt like a warning, offering no solace, only stretching shadows.

Her car glides through the pitch-black night. The headlights cut through the inky blackness like a blade. Streetlamps flash past in rhythmic intervals, being the only sign of life.

Her fingers tap against the steering wheel in sync with the car's soft hum, a sound that should steady her but only amplifies the unease building in her chest. It's been a few minutes since she's driving, and her security details have not caught up with her yet.

Something isn't right.

Not just tonight, but everything. It's as though every decision she's made, every turn she's taken, has led her into the path of something she never saw coming.

Him.

The thought of him clings to her like smoke, impossible to get rid of. The way his dark eyes follow her, the way his presence lingers even when he isn't there. It can't be a mere curiosity. It mingles with something deeper and nameless, refuses to settle, tugging at her. She prides herself on reading people, yet he's the one enigma she can't solve, can't understand, not even close. It drives her mad.

A screeching noise cuts through the stillness, ripping her focus back to the rearview mirror. The glares of the headlights almost blind her.

It's a vehicle, no a monstrous beast.

A Black Land Cruiser.

Unknown, unrecognised.

Her heart skips a beat. Where the hell are her security details? They should have been behind her by now, trailing close.

The hulking vehicle is like a shadow on wheels, creeping toward her with an unnerving speed, growing dangerously closer with every second.

Her heartbeat stutters, then slams into overdrive. Eyes narrowed, she tracks the Cruiser as it locks in directly behind her, leaving mere feet of space. Her palms grow slick, heartbeat hammering erratically. She braces herself, waiting for any sign of danger, each second dragging painfully long. They could be normal passersby. Just another car on the road... no need to worry, right?

Without taking her eyes off the rearview, she begins counting her breaths, a feeble attempt to calm herself down.

One. Two. Three.

Yet, her heart only races faster, pounding louder in her ears. Something in her gut warns her to stay wary of the monstrous vehicle behind her. She could slam on the gas and attempt to reach the safety of the house, but the other car is larger, faster, built to devour a smaller one like hers in seconds.

She forces herself to stay steady, not wanting to prompt any hostile moves. Her stomach churns, sinking lower with each breath, her gaze shifting to the glove compartment. She bites her lip, frozen, uncertain of her next move.

There's no other option now.

With a determined look in the mirror, she tightens her grip on the wheel, shifts gears, and floors the accelerator. The Cruiser instantly responds, surging forward to match her speed.

What the hell?

It clings to her trail with unnerving closeness, a dark wave ready to engulf her. They gain speed, edging up beside her, now almost driving parallel to her right. Goosebumps prickle along her skin as she tries accelerating, slowing down, even weaving, but the Cruiser sticks, mirroring her step by fucking step.

A loud roar echoes from the distance, gradually getting louder. She glances ahead and spots a motorbike tearing toward her, the rider in full gear, speeding with reckless intent. She jerks the wheel, swerving aside to let him pass, she doesn't want to drag an unsuspecting person into the chaos.

The bike veers in, darting into the narrow gap between her and the Cruiser. And then, when she thinks it's gone, but no, in her mirror, she catches a glimpse of the bike making a sharp U-turn and soon he too joins the chase.

The bike is with them too!!!

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She's in an ambush.

Alone with the Cruiser and the bike, she presses on the accelerator harder. The Cruiser closes in fast, slamming into her rear bumper with a force that rattles her in her seat. The grinding crunch of metal against metal fills her ears. She grits her teeth, bracing against the assault.

Adrenaline floods her veins as her mind races, instincts screaming for an escape. But before she can make her next move, her gaze flicks to the side. The passenger window of the Cruiser rolls down, and something long, metallic glints in the moonlight.

Is that a rocket launcher?!

Her blood runs cold. They're not just chasing her, they're hunting her, intent on ending her. The terror seizes her chest as she tightens her grip on the steering wheel, forcing herself to stay steady. She won't go down without trying.

Every second feels like it could be her last. She doesn't have time to think, only to react. Her mind is screaming for a way out, but there's nothing, just the endless stretch of road and that car gaining on her.

The Cruiser surges forward again, closing the gap. Her heart hammers in her chest as she steals a glance back. The man in the passenger seat is readying the rocket launcher. Her hands tremble, but she keeps pressing on the gas.

On the other hand, the roar of the bike grows louder. It looms in her rearview mirror, barreling down the road with relentless speed. Her stomach twists, the feeling of being trapped tightening with every passing second.

The bike swerves sharply, sliding into the narrow space between her car and the Cruiser again with hair-raising precision. And, then, keeping perfect control of the bike, the rider reaches behind him and pulls out a gun with an effortless ease.

She shifts her car further to the side, bracing for disaster. But it doesn't happen. Instead, the rider, steering the bike with one hand, spins it into a sharp one-eighty to face the Cruiser head-on.

All in one fluid motion. And she stares. Transfixed. Her heartbeat thunders as she watches the scene unfold before her.

A shot rings out.

The man with the rocket launcher jerks, slumping back in his seat as blood splatters across the windshield. The Cruiser swerves, tyres screeching on the road, the entire vehicle shuddering violently before coming to a sudden, jarring stop.

The bike skids to a halt as well, positioned like a shield between her and the Cruiser. It faces away from her towards the beast of a vehicle like it is a beast of a different genre in itself,

The rider keeps his gun raised. His stance is tense, yet controlled, a silent warning radiating from him, danger poised in stillness.

She slams on her brakes, unable to tear her eyes from the scene unfolding before her. Her hands shake as she adjusts the mirror, trying to take in every detail.

Everything feels frozen, the road, the air, her breath.

For a moment, all she can hear is the thudding of her heart in her ears. The biker sits there, still, like a predator, waiting for its prey to make a move.

The Cruiser whirls, but the rider doesn't twitch. Instead, he raises his other hand to his gun, aiming again without flinching.

In a desperate move, the Cruiser lurches into reverse, tyres screaming as it tries to flee, retreating like an animal caught in a trap. But it's too late.

Another shot cut through the silence.

The driver's head snaps forward, lifeless. The Cruiser jerks, veering off course. It crashes into a nearby tree with a bone-rattling crunch, the impact echoing through the night.

Silence falls, thick and heavy.

She's still gripping the wheel like her life depends on it. Her gaze drifts to the white shirt stretched over the rider's shoulders, tucked into dark trousers, sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms.

Fuck. She knows this back.

A few weeks ago, she studied his profile so meticulously that she could recognize him from any angle.

He turns his head to look back at her. He's wearing a waistcoat.

And no jacket.

The jacket is lying in her front seat.

Panic flares, sending her pulse skyrocketing. A lone bird cries out from somewhere nearby, its haunting call echoing across the silent, moonlit road. The pale light bathes everything in a ghostly glow, and her pulse flutters wildly, like a caged bird struggling against unseen chains.

They've found out.

The wolves.

The wolves have found out that the serpent had their daughter killed. So they are after her, to end her life, to get their revenge.

Otherwise, why on earth would anyone want to kill her?

Did he find out too?

Was The Wolves's daughter really his sister? Is that why he didn't let them kill her? Because he wants to kill her himself?

Fuck.

It's the moment he's kept talking about..the one where he'll take her life and settle the debts between them.

She sits frozen in her seat, her mind racing. She thinks of speeding off, getting out of the scene, but the way he took down the Cruiser...he could catch her in a second. With a slow, deliberate motion, she opens her glove compartment and clutches the gun in her palm.

He turns the bike toward her, coming to a stop beside her car, huge and imposing. She glances up at the sheer size of the bike and the man riding it as if the bike is an extension of him. He slightly leans back, casually perched atop the massive machine, with the same ease with which he's danced with her this evening.

Her eyes trace the muscles in his arms, tight and defined. The tattoo on his forearm curls like they've always been there, and something stirs deep inside her. She doesn't want to feel it.

NOT. NOW.

His hand, clad in a pair of leather gloves, pulls off his helmet, revealing his face and those caramel-brown eyes. The ones that always make her feel like she's falling into something she can't climb out of.

His eyes meet hers, piercing through the glass, unblinking, as though he knows exactly what he's doing to her.

And she looks away, but his gaze never wavers. He taps on her window, signalling her to roll it down. But she doesn't move. Her heart flutters violently, making her dizzy.

His finger taps the comm in his ear and suddenly, the car vibrates, breaking the stillness and sending a jolt through her.

She jumps, barely stifling a gasp while grabbing her phone. The caller ID flashes.

Unknown number.

It's him.

Her gaze snaps back to him. He's calling her. From barely inches away, through the glass, with him just outside her car. And she lets it ring, never breaking the gaze. Her heart is hammering in her chest, a bead of sweat sliding down her spine, making her skin tingle.

His hand stays at his ear. The buzzing doesn't stop. His gaze remains unyielding. Caramel-brown on hazel. On the side of an empty road, the eerie shadow of the moon stretched over them. The distance between them feels like nothing, yet somehow, everything at once.

The seconds stretch, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. She doesn't back down. Neither does he. Both of them are stubborn as hell. The world outside might as well not exist. It's just them. Just this unbearable, sizzling whatever happens when they are within a few feet of each other.

He keeps calling, sitting right next to her on his bike. She keeps ignoring it, her grip tightening on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, while her other hand clutches the gun for dear life.

Finally, her hand trembles as she touches the green button, lifting the phone to her ear.

"Why the fuck are you not answering your damn phone?" his angry words echoes in the silence of her car.

But she doesn't utter a single word. Instead, She keeps hearing his breath come through the line, steady and deep. Her own breath quickens in response, matching the racing beat of her pulse. His chest rises and falls with each inhale, the fabric of his shirt stretched tight before it relaxed with his exhale. The sound of it is unnervingly clear, almost intimate. She's never been this close to anyone's breath, never felt the weight of it before. It should feel too distant, too casual, but it doesn't. It feels too real. Too close.

She can't break the stare. She can't tear her eyes away from his. She can't even speak, not with the air so thick. So, she just breathes. Quick, shallow breaths that gradually become deeper, slower, in sync with his.

He's always told her he'd kill her one day. It is always the end goal, isn't it?

Yet, when the day is finally upon them, she doesn't understand why she feels so overwhelmed. His words, the threat, they've always been a constant in their twisted dance.

But, now, it bothers her.

Deeply, very deeply.

Enough to blink and shift her gaze back to the road ahead. Enough to start the car. Enough to press the red button on her phone to break whatever strange, disturbing and unsettling pull keeps them tethered.

But it lingers. She doesn't understand it. She doesn't want to. So, she will run. She has to. He throws her off balance, forces her to feel things she doesn't want to feel. Her brain doesn't function properly right when he's around.

She will never willingly expose her jugular to the man who made a name for going straight for it. He will thrive on her weakness, will know exactly how to get under her skin, he already does.

"Fuck it," she hears him mutter, but before she can press the gas and flee, she sees him pull something from the side of the bike. With a swift motion, he slides it against her car door, and with a quiet click, her car lock pops open.

He tears the door open with brute force. Stunned, she watches as he snatches the car keys from the ignition.

"Stay right where you are," he orders, his voice low and commanding, leaving no room for argument. He pockets her keys without a second glance and ventures right toward the now-crumpled Cruiser.

How dare he?

Then it dawns on her.

Oh, he isn't going to kill her. At least not yet. Maybe he doesn't know yet.

How did he know the wolves were going to attack her tonight? If so, how come the wolves know and he didn't?

The questions spin in her mind like a maze, each turns more confusing than the last. She looks around her, it's pointless to run on foot. If he doesn't kill her, she will surely be dead being lost in the unknown nowhere.

And, there's something inside her...an instinct, a dangerous curiosity...keeps her rooted to the spot. With a resigned breath, she opens the door and steps out, sliding the gun into the pocket of her dress.

She sees him punching the driver's side window of the Cruiser, shattering the glass. Then he unlocks the door and drags the driver's lifeless body out, tearing the shirt with a sharp yank. She watches him, his movements deliberate, as he searches the body, unfazed by the blood, the chaos. There's a dark certainty in the way he works.

He's searching for the initiation tattoos. The ones every member of the triad carries, tattoos marking their allegiance to their individual house.

Curious, she inches closer to see if they are indeed The Wolves, and unknowingly, the words slip out of her mouth. "Are they the Wolves?"

Suddenly, a movement caught her eyes,

a flash of a shadow stepping out from the back seat of the car. Before she can respond, a figure lunges at her.

As soon as an arm lock around her

from behind with a gun at her forehead, her instincts kick in. She wastes no time, bringing her heel down hard on the man's foot with a sharp stomp. He grunts, his grip loosening just slightly, but that is all she needs. With a swift jerk, she drives the back of her head up, slamming it into his face. His grip breaks as he reels back, his nose crunching under the impact.

Before he recovers, she spins around and raises her elbow, bringing it down with all her strength onto his nose. The crack echoes through the air, and he staggers, clutching his face as he drops to his knees on the ground.

And, then a shot rings out from behind her, making sure he remains on the ground. Flat and lifeless.

"I told you to stay in the car." His voice is low and cold.

She doesn't look at him, instead rubbing her elbow where it made contact with the man's face. Her tone is casual and dismissive as she answers, "I can take care of myself."

She feels his gaze on her. So, She meets his eyes and his arched eyebrow.

With a careless shrug, she adds, "It just doesn't work when it comes to you."

The dangerously infuriating smirk spreads across his lips. "How did you know they were The Wolves?"

"I didn't." She shrugs, her voice cool and uninterested, a deliberate choice to avoid getting caught in his web of questioning.

She turns away, striding back toward her car with purpose. She feels the heat of his presence right behind her. She doesn't need to look to know.

"My keys," she demands, when she reaches her car, holding out her hand, without turning.

He places the keys, hovering them above her hand. The cool metal grazes her fingers, teasing her, and she's just about to close her grip when he jerks them back. Her fiery hazels meet his cold browns. His lips twitch.

"Not so fast, Miss Gupta." His voice is soft velvet and dangerously close, brushing against her skin as he leans in, pressing her on the car, his hands on either side of her. She can feel the chill of the night air mingling with his heat. "First, tell me... why are The Wolves trying to kill you?"

"I don't know." She grits her teeth.

"So, you want to keep this up, huh?" he rasps softly. "Pretending you don't know anything? Or are you just waiting to see how far I'll go? Honestly, you should know by now...secrets and I? We're not friends."

"You know, for someone so keen on answers, you're awfully arrogant about getting them."

"And yet, here you are...in front of me, fighting to keep the truth..when we both know the truth is sitting right on the edge of that pretty mouth of yours." His voice inches closer as she denies to look at him, "Come on, Little bird, open up."

She glared up at him, determined not to let him see her squirm. "Maybe if you tried asking nicely, I'd tell you."

"I don't do 'nice," his smirk widens. "The way I look at it, I don't have to ask. I've got you right where I want you....Or should I say, exactly where you keep ending up?.... At my mercy."

"For the hundredth time, Mr. Raizada,... you don't scare me."

His next words come as a low murmur. "You know, Miss Gupta... your toes look particularly delicious. You don't need all of them to live, do you?....stop lying to yourself that I don't scare you. If so, then tell me...what are you afraid of?" She curses herself as her blood begins to boil. He keeps taunting her, "...Are you afraid that I might kill you?"

"If you want to kill me, then just do it. End this right here, right now," she spits the words out.

"Not going to lie, it's tempting."

"You know as well as I do why they're after me. So stop playing these games."

He tilts his head, a fleeting smirk plays at the edges of his mouth, "I know because that's my business...to know things. But how do you know? I didn't realize this was dinner table conversation among the serpents."

She meets his gaze, unflinching. "I wired my father's office. That's how I know it."

Both of his eyebrows arch as he says, "Impressive....you surprise me, Miss Gupta ...."

Her chin lifts slightly, a silent acknowledgement of her own skills.

He takes a step back from her, crossing his arm across his chest as he observes her. A small chuckles escape him as he speaks, "Ask, Little bird."

The question she's been avoiding spills from her lips. "Is this why you hate me so much? Is this why you want to kill me?"

"Care to elaborate. There are so many."

"Because the girl who was killed, Preetika Naik......she was your sister, wasn't she?"

"No."

She raises an eyebrow, taken aback. "No? No, she wasn't your sister, or no, that's not why you hate me?"

"No to both."

Her patience starts to fray, her pulse quickening with frustration. "Then why the fuck do you hate me?"

He steps closer, his movement deliberate, and his tone teasing. "Ask nicely, and I might just answer you," he says, tapping on her previous jab.

He won't. She was wrong earlier when she thought she couldn't read him at all. She can. She can read him, she can read his eyes, and it's clear to her now that he won't tell her. Not the way she wants him to.

"Why did you save my life?" she tries again.

"Who would find the hacker if not you," he replies, his voice smooth, like it's the most obvious answer in the world.

"For once, can you just answer a question straight?"

He smirks, eyes glinting. "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

He grabs her hand like he has all the right over her and places the keys into her palm. His fingers brush against hers, sending a jolt through her that she quickly suppresses. Looking at the keys, she remembers.

"How did you open the car door?"

He shrugs, his tone nonchalant. "It's an automatic car lock opening device. Most average cars can be opened by it."

She stiffens at his words. How dare he call her car average? Her baby, which she brought with her honest money.

A silver Honda Civic.

"Don't call my car 'average'. I bought it with my hard-earned money from freelancing all those years in college. It doesn't have blood money all over it."

A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. The look only fuels her anger further.

"And why the fuck did you stop me here? I'd have been home by now, not stuck here, doing God knows what in the middle of nowhere," she snaps.

He pauses for a moment, his gaze scanning the empty road before locking back onto her. "I wasn't sure if others were waiting for you down the road."

She shoots him a withering look, "You don't have to escort me."

"I told you, little bird, I don't do that 'nice gentleman' thing ".

"What are you doing right now, then?"

"Making sure you go home safely so that a mafia war doesn't break out tomorrow."

She rolls her eyes and slides into the car, slamming the door shut with a huff. Her fingers grip the steering wheel, but she can't help but glance in the sideview mirror.

Her heart stutters as he straddles the bike. His thighs are on either side of the black beast, hips tilting with an almost sinful grace. Each movement is deliberate, hypnotic. His body shifts, commanding the beast as if it were his to tame. He twists the throttle, and the beast rumbles to life with a deep, guttural growl, like a predator answering his master's call. The sound fills the night, raw and alive and reverberates through her, each vibration like a pulse that echoes in her veins. .

She cranks the AC to full volume, the blast of cold air a futile attempt to cool the heat rising in her ears.

He follows her all the way through her house. His presence lingers in the air, settling into her skin like the dark night around her. For a moment, he is the night itself. Dangerous, untouchable, and yet impossibly close.

As the gates of Gupta's mansion creak open, she glances in the rearview mirror. She watches him drive away, swallowed up by the night. A quiet sigh escapes her lips, the knot in her chest loosening just a fraction as the weight of his presence lifts from the air.

Cutting the engine, she takes a few deep, steadying breaths. But, the calm doesn’t last long, though. Her phone buzzes again.

She picks up. That hauntingly husky voice slips through the line, making her eyes flutter closed as his words coil around her. Quiet and lethal.

“There was another reason why I showed up tonight.”

The air catches in her throat as she whispers, “What?”

The silence stretches across the line, taut and endless, until his voice returns.

“You owe me your death, Miss Gupta,” he speaks quietly, “Your. death. is. mine." A pause. "....mine to take, mine to keep, mine to preserve."

With that, he cuts the call.

As the dark imprints of his words wraps their arms around her, she wonders...is it her life he’s after, or her very soul he’s set on destroying?"

Piece by piece.

Author's note:

I am writing long chapters these days. Do you guys like long chapters or short chapters? Let me know.

See you soon.

@arshifiesta @featheredclover @phuljari @chutkiandchotte @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chaiandtakkar @9artsdragon @titaliya

#arnav singh raizada #ipkknd #khushi kumari gupta #arnav and khushi #13 years of ipkknd #arshi #arshi fanfic #crimson_shade #ipk 13th anniversary fiesta

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msbhagirathi · 6 months ago

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Word Prompt "Colly wobbles" for the IPK 13th Anniversary Fiesta by @arshifiesta.

Character: Kaveri Khushi Gupta, Arnav Varun a.k.a AV

FF: A River Runs Through It

Author: meera30

Reason: Coz I am in love with this ff right now. Now stop finding reasons and read on.

Khushi didn't know how did he do it. It was freezing cold outside in Detroit and here was the man in question giving out a presentation which he had prepared ~in merely five minutes~ before the meeting had to be started urgently.

Clad in a crisp white shirt rolled up to his forearms, the angry gash visible just as a slip of cut, the jacket and the waistcoat already lying on the chairback. Tie hanging a lil bit loose from its usual place. Shiny charcoal colored trousers hugged his legs like a second skin. Yet, he looked as fresh and energetic as ever.

Illegal.

How can he be so perfect?

Why did I of all people had to fall for him?

She knew that her being physically bulky had nothing to do with who she fell in love with. And yet she felt a bit wretched for having fallen for such a personification of perfection.

Sometimes, she didn't know which one was more comforting? To have been immune from his charm and just keeping to herself in college or having badly fallen for him strong enough to keep away all the strangers she had met just so she could forget that one man. And yet, the 'date other men to forget him' idea was as terrible as it sounded.

As she could go no further then two minutes of looking at them and instantly comparing them to him. She knew she was being horribly desperate. But then anyone would be if the man in question was the subject of discussion...

She started scribbling an insignia (for the umpteenth time) in her notepad which she had used earlier to jot down the good points.

"Ms. Gupta. Its good that you are at least concentrating on something but I would much rather that something to be nothing but this presentation."

Arnav Varun was looking at her with that knowing smile as if he had found a key to a mystery puzzle he was looking for. His glasses gleaming at an angle.

Embarrassed at being in the wrong side, Khushi immediately changed the page and looked up at the projector screen.

"Sorry sir."

Did he know?

Had he seen her drawing his name initials in her notepad with such an interest?

What was with that smile?

And yet now he continued with his presentation as if nothing had happened. Voice unflinching and firm. Emanating an authority. An air of importance.

Hey shivji! Why do I have to be the one target that you are never tired of playing with?

The gravel in his voice still used to send chills down her spine in a good way of course.

"Okay everyone that would be it for now. If I happen to have something else I would be calling all of you back. Please be ready for more impromptu meetings this week. If anyone has any questions please do ask or you're free to leave, thank you for your attention."

Khushi gingerly raised up from her chair praying to let her go to a certain someone sitting in the Kailash parvat with his wife who loved creating sweet troubles for her in situations like these. She quickly wanted to slip away along with the rest of the others.

But, Arnav Varun didn't let that happen. He looked up from his laptop at her.

Please don't tell me to stay back.

Please tell me the one thing I am yearning to hear from you for half a decade now.

Please let me go.

Please stop me and kiss me.

Hey shivji! She might have as well become a lunatic by now.

She was about to leave when..

"Khushi.."

She turned back only to find him sitting at his chair relaxed. All tension and seriousness gone with everyone else from the room. He sipped his glass of chilled water.

There was something in this man that made her feel at peace and nervous at the same time.

"Yes sir."

She heard the sound of her voice which shivered slightly.

Don't get the wrong idea okay? I am DEFINITELY NOT scared of you.

"No 'sir' please, just AV, when we are alone."

"Okay.. AV.'

He smiled.

"Show me your notepad once Khushi."

NO. PLEASE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

'Uhh.. I am in need of it urg-"

"Yeah yeah I know you need it I had seen you noting down points in it. But please I assure you I don't eat paper and I would return it within a few sec. Please?"

Khushi very hesitantly held it out and before he could open it to her eternal mortification and second hand embarrassment, Arjun's name came flashing out on her mobile screen.

A whole wave of relief hit her whole being as she excused herself to pick it up as an important call, leaving behind all her things in the room.

After fifteen minutes when she came back to her cabin she realized she had left all her things in the meeting room. She was about to sprint back to the room. When she spotted her things: her laptop bag, her water bottle and her notepad neatly sitting in the center of her desk.

At lunch break, she entered the cafeteria and already found the whole team along with (of course) AV himself sitting at the corner-most booth. She walked up and sat at the chair two seats away from him. She saw his phone lying on the table.

Suddenly it came alive with a notification and she saw the lock screen. A sprawly drawing. Careless strokes of blue ball point pen. Carved into the paper on a ruled page which seemed familiar.

An insignia, which she had scribbled on her notepad, out of boredom, sitting in the meeting room, a few hours ago. She couldn't believe her eyes.

Heat rushed to her ears and a slow blush crept onto her face and refused to go away. She couldn't believe the fact that Arnav Varun had taken a click of her drawing and set it as the lock screen on his phone.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him check the notification and quickly closed off the screen, checking if anyone else noticed it or not and went back to the conversation going on.

Khushi couldn't pull out the image of her insignia on his phone screen. Her mind kept replaying the image and she couldn't stop herself from blushing. Her body had gone into over-drive. Her heart was fluttering. Her hands and legs felt shaky. Her palms felt clammy. Warmth surrounding her face and neck and the rest of her body. Her stomach was in colly-wobbles.

Hey shivji, please, I must be looking like an idiot. Please help me staaaap this blushing, my cheeks are hurting now. Uff. Stupid AV. Stupid me.

#arshi #arnav and khushi #arnav singh raizada #ipkknd #khushi kumari gupta #lol #nothing #ok then bye y'all #arshi fanfic #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #ipk 13th anniversary fiesta #IPK 13th Anniversary Fiesta #ok bye y'all

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featheredclover · 6 months ago

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Redamancy

This one shot is inspired by this prompt by @arshifiesta

Also on Wattpad

“ How long will Sahil be Aman?”

“ An hour”

Swearing under his breath, Arnav brought up a hand to loosen his tie.

“ Marcos has called the garage as well so don’t worry ASR”

Leaning back against the now broken car, Arnav took out his pack of cigarettes and offered one to Aman.

The two men cut out as dashing figures, with their impeccable suits and cigarette dangling from their mouths.

“ You want to sit somewhere? Hartford has great coffee “

“ Sure”

———

They stood in front of a glass door, below the sign ‘Cafe Captain’.

A bell tinkled as Aman swung the door into the place, the place was painted in hues of brown resembling an old British bakery. The strong smell of coffee permeated Arnav’s senses and he headed towards the counter.

“ ….so yes, while a croissant is nice, it doesn’t hold a torch to our cream bun. They melt in your mouth!”

Arnav heard the waitress go on and on about cream buns. He stopped himself from clucking impatiently.

Finally, he thought as he moved forward.

“ One black coffee “

He read the chirpy girl’s name tag- Khushi

A gasp forced him to look back up. “ It is horrendous. Why would you do this? Why? I mean I understand if you are hungover or hmm probably a diabetic, are you?”

“ Um no, I am not”

“ Great! Then darling go sit right there and let me bring you the best cup in Hartford!”

Dumbfounded, Arnav simply paid and went towards the table Khushi had pointed to. It was only when he sat down that he wanted to kick himself.

What am I doing? Black coffee was fine.

It didn’t help that Aman was smirking as he sat down, amusement filling his eyes.

“ I thought no one could boss you around. Glad I am wrong”

“ Just shut up”

He looked up to see the girl walk towards his table with a huge smile.

Placing the huge cup down, she giggled.

“ This will help you! And trust me you will find yourself here everyday “ she said with a wink.

“ And here you go! Lemon tea!”

Aman thanked her while his eyes rested gleefully on a flushed ASR.

It was only after she had taken her place back at the counter, that Arnav looked at his cup.There in white cream was a sun drawn with a smile on it.

——

He found himself at the doorstep of Cafe Captain again the next day. He couldn’t risk bringing that bastard with his all knowing gaze ,with him. Especially,when he himself couldn’t understand the helplessness he felt as he remembered her laughter “ And trust me you’ll find yourself here everyday”

Tinkling bells greeted him and he headed straight towards the queue.

Arnav couldn’t take his eyes off her. The excited bobbing of her head, her laugh, the scrunch of her nose when she disagreed with something, and the way her hands moved when she was explaining the merits of glazed sugar cookies. Everything fascinated Arnav. He felt like he was watching a doll come to life.

And when it was his turn, she flashed him a beautiful smile. “ Just go sit!”

That’s all she said to him. And that’s all he needed.

He watched her work. Preparing his cup , taking the small white jug in her dainty hands and placing it on a coaster.

“Here you go!”

Arnav looked down to see a sunflower smiling up from his coffee. He sipped as he watched her work, chatter and flutter around like a butterfly.

He would never admit the disappointment he felt when she didn’t come to talk to him again. He gulped down the last bit of the milky - sugar filled concoction and headed back out.

——

“ Hey!”

Looking up from the cream doodle of a dog, Arnav stared right into Khushi’s eyes.

“ Congratulations!”

“ Um…for what?”

“ You have been coming here daily for the past week, so now you are my regular “, Khushi said with a wink.

“ Thanks, I guess” Arnav hoped his boring drawl seemed perfect to her. Because otherwise she will know how he really felt about her grouping him with all her other “regulars”.

“ What’s your name? “ she asked in such a soft voice that he found himself answering, forgetting the earlier slight.

“ Arnav”

“Arnav” she repeated as if rolling his name on her tongue.

“ So tell me Arnav, what do you do apart from drinking my marvellous coffee?”she said with a cheeky grin.

“ I run AR.”

“ The design house! Oh my god! I love your clothes! “

“ The designers will be glad to hear that”

“ So…you don’t design any of your clothes?”

“ I used to. Lately…I haven’t found the time”

“ That’s a shame. Something so creative should never be given up!”

Arnav looked away. He should have reminded himself why he didn’t date. He didn’t want a lecture on his workaholism. Di was enough for that.

“ Hey…I am sorry. I didn’t mean to touch on a nerve. God knows I haven’t picked up a guitar since school and I want to scratch anyone’s eyes who reminds me!”

Arnav had to smile at that.

“ Guess that makes us alike”

And in the next moment, his breath caught, as Khushi’s cheeks flushed a beautiful pink.

——

Aman tore into his chapati, as Anjali served more aloo-matar onto his plate.

“ Slow down Aman! There’s enough for you to eat till you burst!” Anjali laughed.

Shyam smiled, “ Well, that’s what bachelor life is, isn’t it? Perennially hungry, filling time with cup noodles and coffee! Aman and Arnav, it’s time for both of you to get married.”

“ Speaking of coffee, Arnav does seem ready to be hitched” Aman spoke before stuffing his mouth again, oblivious to Arnav’s glare.

“ Chotte! Who is the girl? When were you going to tell us?”

“ And what is the connection with coffee saale saheb?”

The chair screeched as Arnav pushed it back and stood up, silencing them all.

“ I am done with lunch”

And he walked out, ignoring Anjali’s protests and Aman’s laughter.

That bastard.

As he roamed the streets of New York, Arnav couldn’t help but wonder about Khushi. He was smitten, he had admitted with quite difficulty one evening, when he had been driven mad when he learnt Khushi had taken a leave because she was sick. The next day he brought a basket of apples and a bouquet of lilies for her. Her giggle had been worth the embarrassment he had felt ,when Aman found out what he was planning to do.

But did she like him? He kicked a rock at the curb and exhaled in frustration. She seemed to greet all her customers with the same glee and modify their opinions on sweet treats with as much vigour as she poured the sugar in his coffee.

His only hope was the doodle on his daily coffee. He hadn’t seen her do that to anyone’s cup. The others would just get simple cream hearts.That was a sign wasn’t it?

That’s it. ASR is not so weak that he is brought to his knees by a woman. He will ask her if she’s interested in him. That’s simple. He has tackled million dollar deals with fabric companies, this would be nothing.

———

Arnav swirled the wheel, drove forward and parked, unaware of the light in his eyes as it fell on the brightly lit coffee shop.

He pushed the cafe’s door open, but the sight in front of him made him stop in his tracks.

Khushi had thrown her head back in laughter as a man stood leaning against her counter.

A splinter opened somewhere in his chest as he realised he had never made her laugh like this. He had never made her blush so red. Overwhelmed, Arnav was about to turn back and leave when his eyes caught Khushi’s.

With no choice but to get through the evening, he headed towards his usual table. He didn’t glance at the man again, he couldn’t. He wanted to tear him to pieces. He clenched his trembling hand into a fist.

He looked up at Khushi when she placed his cup down. She was still a beautiful shade of pink. Her smile was soft, her eyes glazing. Before he could say a word, she had moved back towards her counter in a hurry.

Frowning slightly, Arnav glanced down at his coffee. He gulped painfully as he saw bloody hearts on them. So, this new man comes along and he doesn’t get a special doodle. He gets what all her customers get. That’s what he was to her. A douchebag in a suit, who had nothing better to do every evening than sip her coffee.

Arnav shut his eyes, and breathed deeply. He opened them to see that it had begun raining outside. Bloody poetic, he thought. Unable to control the spiralling of his emotions, Arnav stood up in a flash and dashed out of the cafe, his coffee left untouched.

——

His leather shoes splashed against the fallen raindrops as he hurried to get to his car. To get out of this damned place.

He heard footsteps behind him before he heard the shout “ Arnav!”

He turned to see Khushi holding an umbrella above herself and another in her hand. She smiled somewhat hesitatingly, as she extended the umbrella to him.

Rage flooded his being as he stared at the beautiful woman standing before him, a deepening sorrow in him as he was reminded of his one sided love.

“Don’t need it �� he gritted out.

Her eyes widened in shock at his tone.

“ Wha- what happened ?”

“You want to know what happened? I have not been able to function normally ever since I walked into your bloody cafe after my car broke down that god forsaken day! You and your sweet coffee have driven me mad. And here I am, a grown man, waiting for the clock to strike 5 so that I can leave to travel from New York to Hartford. Just to…just to hear you laugh, just to see you smile, just to get a doodle on my coffee. A doodle that’s just mine. And today yo- you are laughing with another man, turning red when he is speaking. And..and doodling just hearts for me! Hearts you do for every other regular of yours.” Arnav burst out, every word hiding his grief.

He stared at Khushi for a moment. A moment in which both of them didn’t even dare to breathe .

Her grip loosened as the umbrellas fell from her hands, she reached him in a few steps, uncaring of the rain soaking her, entwined her hands around his neck and kissed him.

Arnav froze as her warmth permeated his whole being. A rush of joy flooded his brain. But it wasn’t enough. His hands grabbed her waist, tightening in desperation as he deepened the kiss. He tilted her back further as he drank her. A shiver ran through Khushi as she moved her hands to clutch his hair in an almost painful grasp. She pushed his shoulder lightly, as she attempted to break away from the kiss. Arnav kissed the corner of her lips, before kissing down her neck to her collar bones.

“ Arnav! “ Khushi giggled. “ It’s raining pretty heavily, if you haven’t noticed “

He stood looking at her smiling figure. Breaking out of his trance, he grabbed her hand, and began walking to his car.

——

“ Cold na?” Khushi asked with an obvious shiver, as she rubbed her hands together vigorously for some warmth.

Arnav reached into the dashboard, took out a navy blue sweater, which was a size too large for her and without a word dropped it over her head.

She giggled again. Arnav couldn’t help smiling.

He heard her gasp, before he felt her soft hand grabbing his rough one.

“Arnav” she began “ The man I was laughing with was Noah, my sister Lavanya’s boyfriend. He..he was teasing me about…er.. about you. That’s why I was umm turning red” she finished, turning more red than ever before.

His hands turned her face towards him gently. His lips taking hers in a soft kiss.

“Really?” he asked huskily.

“ Really! In fact, I thought you would understand those hearts I drew because I had been drawing something different for you everyday! It had two hearts, Arnav, and they were struck by an arrow. And no, I don’t do this for anyone else” she finished with a pout.

“ I am sorry” he murmured before drawing her into a kiss again. He felt like an addict, he couldn’t get enough of her and he definitely couldn’t leave her tonight.

As she sat, huddled close to him she whispered

“ I love you Arnav”

Tightening his hold on her, he looked down at her lying across his chest. “ I love you too Khushi, more than you can ever imagine “

For now it was enough. It was enough knowing that Arnav was going back to drink the now cold coffee with relish. It was enough knowing that they were going to spend the night in Khushi’s apartment above the cafe. It was enough knowing that two hearts were beating as one.

For now, the rain poured relentlessly , providing them a curtain of privacy as they remained wrapped in each other’s love in the car. Arnav marvelled in the redamancy, as he held the woman he loved in his arms, who loved him.

Tagging: @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @barshifan @andli @shiyaravi @muttonthings @hand-picked-star @msbhagirathi @phuljari @sankititaliya @thenainitaldisaster @thedupattaknowswhatsup @chutkiandchotte @laad-governess @laadgovernors @laadgovernorandsankadevi @leila1 @hi-this-is-permabanned @arshispyaar @minpdnim @thedustyshehnai @bigfatreader @arshiradio @simplycurlz @scorpio-smiles @bengudill

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#ipkknd #arshi #fanfic #oneshot #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #ipkknd non canon ffs #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #arnav x khushi #ipk 13th anniversary fiesta #arnavsinghraizada #armav x khushi #ipkoneshot #ipkknd fanfic

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hand-picked-star · 6 months ago

Text

The 13th Annniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard : Historical AU

Whispers of the Heart | Chapter 05

I am not very good at writing ffs. I even read ffs very selectively. But it was an attempt of me to participate in the 13th-anniversary arshi fiesta. I might be wrong about certain aspects of that age and era, but it's a fantasy, so why not?

I don't own Arnav and Khushi and the story is purely fictional and has no relation to any living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter 5

(continuation of previous chapter)

'' Arnav"

She pushed herself off the bed but stumbled to reach Arnav. He wrapped his arm around her waist before she could fall. Her hands splayed palm out on his chest. She stared at him like he hung the sun and the moon and his breath caught. The atmosphere between them undulated, changing into something heavier, something alive.

"Ummm...I want to ask you something," she tripped over her words, "Why is it that every time someone says your name" feeling her pulse quickening "or you come close to me" she whispered like it was a secret "My heart starts to beat harder? ", taking his hand she placed it over her heart "I tried to understand it, but couldn't." a silence came over between them, "bataiye na!!"

Arnav blinked, her words not quite making sense. He couldn't think and that should have disturbed him, especially because he held her so close. It had not escaped him how pretty she looked. She was always pretty, but today was special. Her hair hung loose but wavy, and the dress she'd chosen, a pure white salwar-kameez with red churni dupatta, hugged her curves in all the right places. He had noticed her curves earlier. But it's difficult to ignore at this moment, not with her body up against his. And that red bindi on her forehead, it would be the death of him someday.

His pulse felt thready. And he wanted to touch her. The simple impulse to touch the tips of his fingers to her cheek was almost more than he could bear. He raised one of his hands to cup her cheek and tilted her head toward him. There was a good reason why he shouldn't touch her, but he couldn't remember what it was. Her eyes searched his, her trembling lips slightly parted. He heard the words as clearly as if she'd spoken.

Kiss me.

The heat of her breath on his lips made him dizzy with need and he gave in. At first, Khushi couldn't comprehend what was happening. One second she was asking him a question, the next second, she was in his arms, and before she could quite recover from that, he was kissing her.

Or had she kissed him? Her brain was muddled. She was thinking about him the whole day-how handsome he looked in the white kurta. She was shamelessly looking at his lips the other day when he was eating Kheer. Had she acted on those impulses? Shy and confused Khushi ducked her head, breaking their kiss.

But almost as soon as their kiss was broken, he put two fingers under her chin, tilting her head up and claiming her lips again. His free hand moved from her waist to her back, pressing her flush against him. She whimpered and forgot everything else, anything else existed. If she'd lost her mind, so be it. Nothing ever felt as good as whatever was happening at that moment.

One of her hands crept up to cup the back of his neck and threaded her fingers through his hair, while the other hand went around his back, clutching his kurta in a death grip. She tentatively tried to return his kisses. Her heart was racing. She felt weightless. His lips were hard on her while he was holding her so gently. Khushi couldn't rightly tell, when he'd begun to walk her backwards, she only knew she found herself pressed against the wall. And then, as abruptly as it all began, it was over.

Arnav groaned from the back of his throat as he pushed away from her. He stumbled back. His hair was rumpled from her fingers, his lips still moist and parted. The five seconds they stared at each other were the longest of Khushi's entire life.

And then, he left her there, pressed against the wall, flushed-face, lips swollen from his kiss, without a word.

(end of flashback)

Arnav was sitting on the garden bench, threading his hands through his hair and tugging hard. The guilt he felt was a weight on his shoulders, pinning him down as effectively as any physical thing.

It wasn't just that he had no right to do what he'd done. What made it all the worse and what could be worse than taking advantage of someone under the influence, was that to this day, two years later, he still daydreamed about that kiss. He could still remember how very sweet it was, the emotion of that kiss, the tenderness of it and the taste of her lips, and the way her body fit the lines of his. And how powerful was the need that rushed through him then. Her warmth, her scent, everything about that moment felt vivid and real as if it was happening all over again. He had to close his eyes tightly until the feeling passed.

It was not like it was the first time that Arnav had kissed a girl. The first time he kissed a girl in the Valleys of Darjeeling was a girl from Darjeeling High School at 18. it was supposed to be fun, but as soon as he kissed that girl, he discovered something, like she gave him a disease, he heard a voice inside his head that sounded very much like his Nani's. The look he gave her afterwards, she must had thought he was insane.

'you are a womanizer, Arnav'. the voice thundered. 'just like your father.'

After that every time he thought about kissing a girl, his Nani would start talking. It was really difficult to do anything with your Nani in your head. Then one day, he with some of his friends out of curiosity went to a pub to taste some liquor. He should have known better, he ended up spending the night with someone he didn't even remember.

'See, I told you so' the voice taunted him continuously the day after.

After that, he tried his level best not to hear his nani ever again in his head. There was one thing that Arnav didn't want to be and that was 'just like his father.'

But why the voice was so quiet when he kissed HER? It felt the most natural thing to do, like he was born to do that, like he was destined to be fitted into her arms. After he fled from her room, he sat on the garden bench for hours.

There Arnav had realized, he had irreversibly fallen in love with her. And she had finally quieted the voice in his head.

But instantly another voice appeared that sounded more like his since that day and they had a serious conversation with each other on the evening of Holi two years ago, sitting on that particular bench.

'what have you done, Arnav? you've proved your nani right. tumne jis thali main khaya usmehi ched kiya. What will Mahindar chacchu and roma chachi will say? How could you do that to their daughter? How could you tarnish her reputation like that? Is this how you repay them for all the love and care, they've bestowed upon you, when nobody was there for you? And Aman, what will you say to him? '

Arnav clutched his head with both hands, resting his elbows on his knees. he felt like screaming. He argued with himself for a long time. He succeeded in almost quietening the voice, when it murmured, very faintly.

'You can marry her'

'And what can I give her?.' Now it was Arnav's turn to contradict 'I have nothing, no house, no money, no reputation, no family and what made you think that Chachu and Chachi would want to marry off their beloved daughter to a nobody like me'. A pressure bloomed in his chest. With every breath he took, it increased. 'And what made you think that she would want to marry me?'

'She loves you, isn't it obvious? '

His vision blurred 'Have you forgotten that she was drunk? and I took advantage of her drunken state.' The silence that followed was suffocating, and his mind raced back to that moment, the memory haunting him. He remembered the way she had returned the kiss, her eyes fluttering shut just before their lips met. He remembered the vulnerability in her gaze, the way she had leaned into him as if seeking something more. 'She may have developed a silly little crush.' He whispered to himself, the words barely convincing even in his mind. An invisible rope tightened around his throat, 'it's temporary.' he told himself, desperately wanting to believe it, 'it will go away with time.'

'Bullshit' the voice whispered.

@arshifiesta @featheredclover @phuljari @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte

#ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #arshi #ipk 13th anniversary fiesta #fanfic #historical au #angst #angst with a happy ending

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jalebi-weds-bluetooth · 1 year ago

Text

ArShi OS: Chance

Warning: None | Word Count: 5681

Fear paralyzed her as her vision went blank. She blinked furiously, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Hands flailed in darkness, feet unsteady.

The memory of her room wiped out the minute the whole house blacked out. Her heart beat furiously against her chest. Her throat tightened, as if she had swallowed broken glass.

The last time the room was this dark, Shyam had stepped in to take advantage of her fear. He had walked in with a candle, hoping she’d be disoriented enough to let him come inside her room, or worse - hold her knowing she wouldn’t be able to put up a fight.

God knows, if Nanhe hadn’t appeared on time-

Khushi collapsed, shutting her ears as another thunder blasted.

Their headlights stopped working. The road ahead was pitch dark. Khushi clutched her teddy bear. Her father didn’t realize oil had spilled on the road. Her mother was screaming. A deafening crash.

“Amma,” She cried, her body numb.

THINK KHUSHI!

Khushi’s eyes snapped open. Arnav was out of town, so were the rest of the family. She forced her mind to focus on the facts. A house like Shantivan rarely loses power. It is not a coincidence that it had to happen the one time she was alone at home.

More than the trauma of her parents’ death, it was reality that shook her bones.

Shyam was back.

The thought alone powered her to stand up and grab the first thing she could find. She screamed at the winds, screamed of her bravery, enough to let anyone know she was far from disoriented. Far from being taken advantage of.

There was no reply apart from the howling winds and flickering lights. Cold sweat trickled down her temples.

Perhaps it was just the thunder and her trauma. Nothing else.

“Hey Devi Maiyya,” she whispered, soft relief washing over her. Before she could thank her stars, a shadow appeared. Panic seized Khushi. There was only one man who had cast a shadow in her room more than once.

Shyam Manohar Jha

Khushi screamed but her voice was stuck. Tears streamed down her cheeks but she couldn’t say a word nor move a limb. He had gripped her in broad daylight, there was no saying what he came for now.

Suddenly she was an eight years old child in the car, sure of her death. She was in a loop where no matter how much she blinked, she couldn’t see, couldn’t wake up.

Find Arnav

Blood flowed back into her body as she furiously searched for her phone. He’d save her. He always had. She should’ve gone with him. Stayed with him. At this point she didn’t even remember what they had fought about. She knocked the furniture over, unable to find her phone.

Her ears twitched. She heard footsteps.

She grabbed a pot and ran towards the exit. She had to leave this house - now! Her feet came to an abrupt halt when she saw a man standing in the living room, aware she’d been trying to make an escape.

Tears dried and her mouth struggled to speak. Her throat was parched, inhibiting her from speaking.

She let out a silent scream when lightning flashed. His face was as visible as day.

Arnav

She had heard stories of how the Lord Shiva had appeared as a saviour, untouched by the chaos surrounding him. Standing with a soft smile, unmoved by the thunder or darkness, Arnav appeared no less than the God himself.

Somehow, this time too, he appeared just in time to save her.

“Khushi?”

Khushi’s hands lost their strength. She didn’t need to put up a defence. She was safe. Relief burst through tears as she ran towards him. Her feet slipped and she fell down the stairs but she got up and ran again. Her forehead and arms burned from the fall but she ran despite it all. She reached out to him, her hoarse ‘Arnav’ steady on her lips like a prayer.

Before she could fall again he grasped her arms and she pulled him into the tightest embrace and cried her heart out. Her wails were silent, for there were no tears and her throat choked her. Yet she heaved in his arms in relief. He was solid, this was not an imagination. The muscle and fabric under her fingertips was his alone. It was real.

She was saved.

– – –

Few men were as shrewd as Arnav Singh Raizada. He knew how to utilize one’s weakness for his profit. Perhaps that’s why it wasn’t a surprise when he ran a million dollar company by 26. Thus he never lost, nor were his intuitions and strategies ever proven wrong.

So when Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada challenged him that she would never come running into his arms - he knew she’d eat back her words by tonight.

But when he saw her panic stricken face on the stairs, he lost his footing. Her eyes were bloodshot, face pale. Tears and makeup had streamed down her face and she almost appeared bloodless. He couldn’t move, unable to accept that he had caused her this.

Perhaps it was not real. Perhaps it was his guilty conscience berating him for using Khushi’s fear against her.

It was not something husbands do.

So he blinked, hoping this apparition would disappear and his Khushi would come forth and smack him for teasing her. He could take her anger, but not fear.

It was then he remembered why she feared darkness. Nausea overcame him. For every second Khushi approached him, he saw the magnitude of what he had done.

He snapped out when Khushi fell down the stairs, slipping on the roses he had laid for her. He never thought she would run down the stairs. He thought she’d see the flowers and be appeased.

She loved roses, didn’t she? But she slipped again and before he could hold her she reached him. Her skin was cold yet she was sweating. Her lips were chapped, eyes frantic.

She embraced him tight, and his breath was knocked out of his lungs.

“A-Arnav-ji” She panted, her breathing erratic. His focus shifted to her, he gripped her tight, cradling her head in his arms. Khushi calm down, it’s me. He pressed his lips to her head and she hugged him tighter, her body quivering in fear.

They stood like that for a minute, her seeking comfort in his arms, him blocking out everything apart from Khushi in his arms.

He would deal with consequences later.

“Khushi,” Arnav hesitated, still rubbing his hand up and down her back, “I’m so sor-” Khushi’s body went lax.

“Khushi?” Arnav broke the hug and her knees buckled. He tapped her cheek but she had passed out. And even then, her grip on his collar was tight.

– – –

The Raizadas stepped in and were first scandalized by the flowers on the floor. Did Arnav and Khushi have no sense-

Their accumulated anger broke as a pale Khushi lay on the sofa and Arnav ran around to get a doctor. Even Manorama, the one ready for a taunt, was stunned by how pale Khushi looked.

Like her life had been sucked out of her. Anjali kept quiet and was about to reach for Khushi when Akash went ahead and stopped Arnav’s maddening pace.

“Bhai? Is Khushi-ji ok. Are you ok? What happened?” Akash held his older brother’s shoulders.

“She’s not waking up. Give me your car keys. Mohan had this fucking great idea to take all the cars for maintenance. I’m not even getting a signal. I have to take her to the hospital.” Arnav panicked, throwing his bluetooth halfway across the room as his phone line didn’t connect.

“Okay, bhai, calm down. You won’t be helping Khushi-ji like this.” Arnav closed his eyes shut, nodding at whatever Akash was saying.

Despite the confusion, Anjali’s heart ached for Khushi. Without consciousness, it appeared to Anjali how young Khushi truly was. But didn’t Shyam say how young Khushi was? Young to be tempted - her body rejected the idea before her mind could.

She knew this woman at the back of her hand. And with her so pale, Anjali doubted if Khushi could ever take advantage of anyone.

That’s when a few bruises on Khushi’s arms caught her eye. Who gave this?

“I’ll drive-” Arnav stated.

“No Bhai, I’ll drive you both to the hospital. You stay with her, ok?” Akash advised. Mohan ran in the house, mumbling several apologies. Anjali briefly sprinkled water on Khushi but to no effect.

“Chotte, Akash is saying the right thing. Let’s go to the hospital-” Anjali said.

“There’s no need for you all to come.” Payal interjected and grabbed Khushi’s hand from Anjali. Her frame shook in rage. Given all the treatment they had given to Khushi off late, Payal could not take another second of the Raizadas fawning over her.

“Hello hi bye bye, what is-”

“Maa ji, it’s my sister. So you all don’t have to be worried. Jeth-ji and I will take her to the hospital. Mohan-ji will drive us there.” Nani was surprised at Payal’s tone. She was never the one to oppose anything anyone said - especially Anjali.

“What are you saying Payal? Why wouldn’t I-”

“Akash ji, your sister and your house needs you more.” Anjali frowned, this was the first time she had heard Payal refer to her as Akash’s sister.

“But if Khushi-ji needs anything-” Akash argued.

“You don’t have to worry about it Akash-ji. She is my sister. I have and can look after her.” Akash was stunned, he knew where this was coming from. But it was unfair to use an argument against him now.

“Payal, main-”

He stopped when Arnav rushed by him and gingerly picked Khushi in his arms. That’s when Arnav saw Anjali and the rest of the family.

“Di…” Arnav felt like he owed an explanation.

“Chotte it’s ok, please take her to the hospital first.” Anjali smiled but Arnav shook his head.

“Di my meeting got canceled. That's why I came home early. Things have not been going ok so I thought of surprising Khushi and… and we would’ve met you all on the road but-”

“Chotte you don’t have to explain me anything. Your wife is unwell that is your first priority.” Anjali admonished.

“No Di I need to because I know you hate Khushi and Mami just adds-” Arnav cut himself off. Fuck. He shouldn’t have said any of that. Without giving anyone else another glance he and Payal walked away.

“Wah, Arnav bitwa comes home for romance and he has the audacity to blame me when Phati-Sari is the one who has him wrapped around her little fin-”

“Maa enough!” Akash thundered. “Di, please go to your room and take rest, okay?”

Anjali barely nodded and allowed Nani to accompany her room. Was she suffocating Chotte? Was everything wrong in the house stemming from her inability to accept the truth?

Is she ruining her brother’s marriage? Was she happy to see Chotte and Khushi-ji break up because they broke up her and Shyam?

Horrified at her own trail of thoughts she burst into tears and hugged Nani. Why did the truth seem so elusive?

Akash closed the doors and stared at his mother in anger. Manorama had the presence of mind to look a little bit guilty.

“Maa, you’re aware right that our marriages are fragile right now?” Akash asked.

“Yes but they are respon-”

“Oh yes, I hold them guilty for not telling us the truth on time. But nothing apart from that. I still love Payal and Bhai still loves Khushi-ji. I’ve seen how you treated them off late. It’s almost like them not telling us the truth justified this long standing hatred you have, haina?” Akash accused.

He had seen the way his mother had behaved the way it stifled both Payal and Khushi. They, of course, laughed off any of Manorama’s taunts but he knew it was not normal that he found his wife on the verge of being kicked out twice for something as small as a burnt dish or a pill.

Arnav and Anjali had a lot on their plates. The mother who could help him with his marriage was too keen to see it breaking apart. Akash felt truly alone and abandoned.

It was as if no one was there to help him out with his issues. His anger for Shyam doubled. It was just an affair but he managed to make sure the news breaks the family to pieces.

“Akash bitwa how dare you accuse your mother! Didn’t you see how they hid the truth so they could get married into this rich household? They ruined Anjali bitiya’s happiness. In fact I’ll be happy when those two get out of this house.” Manorama huffed.

“Fine. I’ll leave Payal. In fact I’ll also ask Bhai to leave Khushi-ji. But all this will only happen when you leave Papa.” Akash watched his mother’s face shift from joy to terror.

“A-Akash”

“You hate them for the same reason Dadi hated you. I regret the fact that you never opened your eyes maa. You love us, but you love status more. Here my relationship is on the rocks, things have continuously gone wrong between Bhai and Khushi-ji and as my mother you aren’t there to help me. No, I exist so you can get a great bahu and reclaim your status. I don’t know how to process the fact that you’re taking advantage of my relationship breaking apart.” Akash looked away, overwhelmed by tears.

Manorama stood shell shocked. If there was one person she had counted to never bring up her flaws, it was her son. He was her own.

“I don’t feel happy saying this Maa. I know you genuinely love us. But that’s lost. And now I’m lost in my family. You’re upset on Payal not telling anyone anything, right? So why didn’t you tell me that Bhai was kidnapped? NK bhai also didn’t say anything. Bhai, who trusts me with his company, didn’t tell me the truth about Shyam although he knew it for six months." Akash sighed.

"And now Di, who would understand what I would say without saying a word, refuses to listen to me when I beg her to move on and not trust Shyam. Papa is not here and my own mother is happy to see my marriage break with the only woman I ever loved. I am a stranger in my family and I don’t know who to blame.” Manorama remained quiet as Akash broke into tears. She couldn’t say a word.

How could she? When she knew that she complained to Arnav about Khushi visiting Anjali or interfered with Payal trying to talk things out with Akash not only because she was genuinely upset but also that she saw it as a point for them to break off with the women she disapproved of.

“Beta-” She tried to touch his arm.

“I’m sorry maa, I shouldn’t have spoken like that. Update me when Di feels better.” Akash walked away, the mask of calmness and maturity back in place.

For the first time Manorama realized that her son was not naive nor blind, he just tolerated more and loved enough to not interfere.

– – –

Payal pressed on her temples, her heart aching as she recollected how hurt Akash looked when she distanced herself from him. She knew he was genuinely worried about Khushi. Like the brother he is to her.

Yet, Payal couldn’t resist throwing back his words to him.

And now that she did, she felt awful. An eye for an eye did make the world blind.

She took a walk outside the hospital, desperately needing fresh air. Why is it when they were a step closer to patching things up, it fell through?

She knew she should call Akash, let him know that Khushi was stable but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her pride and self esteem were still hurt.

She had suffered a lot in the past few days and she felt at this point her suffering was more than her crime. But she couldn’t blame Akash entirely. They were both angry and doing things they didn’t mean.

The cool winds of Delhi chilled her. She rubbed her palms up and down her arms. She missed the man who was silently there for her.

A jacket was extended to her.

Payal turned and saw Akash standing, his eyes clouded in worry.

“Akash-”

“Maa and Nani are with Di. She’s sleeping now. How’s Khushi ji?” He waited with bated breath as she took the jacket and wrapped it around her shoulder.

“Thank you. She’s asleep. She had a panic attack.” Payal explained. Akash frowned, panic attacks and Khushi?

“Khushi was in the car when her parents died. So she doesn’t do well with speeding cars and darkness. The last time this happened, Khushi was thirteen. Some of her friends thought it was nice to prank her and lock her up in a closet. But I was there. I just wonder what would’ve happened if Jeth-ji hadn’t come in time. She would’ve gone through this by herself and-” Payal burst into tears.

Akash hugged her tight and she wrapped her arms around his wait. It had been so long since he had held her.

He closed his eyes, he finally felt at home.

“I’m sorry Akash. I’ve failed you as a wife,” Akash opened his eyes, surprised at her comment, “I’ve failed this house as a bahu. And I think I have failed Khushi as a sister. I’ve failed everyone I’ve loved-”

Akash broke the hug and held her shoulders, he searched her lovely face for answers.

“Payal, you’ve made a mistake and so have I. If one mistake fails you then there’s no one here who has never failed.” Payal nodded, wiping her tears with his handkerchief.

“I’m happy though that Khushi and Jeth-ji have managed to go strong. I was afraid if we ever told him the truth then he would’ve blamed Khushi for everything. But rather he’s been protective of her. Even Khushi has never left his side.” Payal sighed. Akash looked at her, her own wish visible in her eyes.

That is what she wanted. Someone to never leave his side.

And here he was, expecting her to walk by him without even saying that’s what he wanted.

Payal was surprised when Akash took her in another hug, “I’ll never leave you Payal. We’ll fight, have arguments, but I swear I won’t stop working on this relationship.” Payal closed her eyes and breathed in relief. It was the first time since months she felt she truly held him in her arms.

And now, in his arms, she had the strength to fight against anything. The battle for showing Di the truth and managing this house had only begun.

– – –

Arnav sat on the edge of the hospital bed, holding Khushi’s pale hand in his. Her cheeks were finally suffused with color. There was a small bump on her forehead and a bandaid on her arm from when she fell. With a trembling hand he pushed a strand of hair behind her ears. He had misused her fear. Only for his sake.

Arnav looked away, unable to accept the truth that he was responsible for her state. He loved her, beyond any logical reasoning. But the fact that he led her to this hospital looked very little like love.

No sorry was enough. No ‘I didn’t mean it’ was enough. Nothing was enough.

Tears overwhelmed him, along with the realization that if Khushi got to know the truth and wanted to leave - he had nothing to convince her otherwise. In a span of forty eight hours he had hurt her twice. Both times to a point of no recovery.

He pressed a warm kiss on her knuckles, hoping against hope that it would say everything he couldn’t.

Khushi stirred from her sleep and jerked up, Arnav rushed to hold her head but she pushed him away. She blinked hard and looked at him.

It is Arnav.

Her shoulders sagged in relief and she extended her arms for a hug. Armav, too selfish to not give into a hug, wrapped his arms around her as she closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest.

“Thank God it’s you.” She whispered, coughing as her parched throat protested. Arnav handed her a glass of water. Khushi frowned at his wordless actions. It was unlike him to be so quiet with her.

“Arnav-ji, I’m fine. You don’t have to be so worried.” She smiled. What was she made of? Arnav looked away, lest she see his tears, and waited for her to be done with her glass of water. His hands were still trembling. She held his hands and kept it on her lap.

“I’m genuinely fine. I… I’ve been through this before. But this time it was something else.” Khushi grew serious. Arnav panicked, waiting for answers.

“Arnav-ji… I think Shyam is back.” Arnav froze and stared at her.

“He has done this before.” Khushi trembled, gripping his hand until her knuckles turned white.

“Did what?” Where was Shyam? How did he not see him!

Khushi nodded and let go of his hands, brushing her thumb on the little nail impressions on his skin. Arnav cupped her cheek and insisted, “What did he do?”

Khushi had tried sleeping with her small lamp on. The memories of Arnav, the hut and the barely said words fresh in her mind. She twisted and turned in her bed, racking her brains to draw up a plan to rescue him. Suddenly, the lights went out. Khushi jerked up, alert and afraid. For a small moment she remembered how he had brought fireflies to ease her fears. And somehow he always dispelled her fears.

And right then she heard footsteps and saw a shadow. Had Arnav freed himself? Is he secretly coming home? No! That sounded ludicrous - why wouldn’t they escape together if that was the case.

To her horror, Shyam stood in front of her with a candle - attempting to cajole her fears. He walked closer, attempting a hug and touched her hand.

“If Nanhe-ji hadn’t arrived in time,” Khushi shivered in disgust. Arnav shook with rage and stood up, itching to throw something against the wall and shatter it to pieces. All this while he had never thought what were the consequences of bringing Khushi in the same house as Shyam.

“Fuck!” He slammed his hand against the wall.

“Arnav-ji!” Khushi shrieked. Arnav turned around, his anger diminishing at the worry in her eyes. He walked to her in two steps and held her face.

“I swear I won’t leave you again Khushi. It’s all my fault. I should’ve listened to you-”

“Hey,” Khushi cupped his face, brushing her thumb against his stubble, “You’re here with me. You believe me. He can’t do anything to me. Despite him being there today he couldn’t even come in front of me only because you were there.” Arnav hung his head and clenched his fists.

He sat on the bed and asked softly, “How are you sure he was there today?”

“Arnav-ji, I am pretty sure he has kept tabs on all of us. It is not coincidence that all the lights went out on a thunderous night where no one was at home. He knows my fear. I wouldn’t keep it above him to use it. And I saw a shadow of a man. Just like that night. Only one man can do such a disgusting thing. But thanks to Devi Maiyya you came here at the right time,” Khushi gave his hands a reassuring squeeze.

Arnav couldn’t speak. His throat tightened as Khushi looked at him with her eyes full of hope and sincerity. Khushi frowned as she noted the guilt on his face. Oh, when will he stop feeling responsible for everything?

“Arnav-ji, the mistake is mine. Easily we would’ve been touring the Taj Mahal and bickering about whether or not you’re my pati, but I had to be a wonder woman at home.” Khushi teased him.

Arnav covered his face with his hands, unable to take her reassurances. Khushi shifted towards him and removed his hands. She held his cheek and turned him to look at her.

“Arnav-ji. Nothing happened. And you can’t feel guilty for an incident where you weren’t even there. And you should be happy. I did end up in your arms right? Which means that I have to accept that you’re my husband.” Khushi dramatically sighed and waited for him to smile.

Except he let out a shuddering breath and whispered sorry.

“Arnav-ji, why are you apologizing? Is it about before? Then it’s ok… I know you didn’t mean it.” Khushi said. However Arnav couldn’t bear to look at her. She moved forward to hold his other cheek.

“Arnav-ji, you’re behaving like you’re the one who switched off the lights,” Khushi chided. Arnav froze and looked at her, wide eyed. Khushi’s smile dropped, her hands leaving his face. In the few months of a difficult marriage with Arnav, Khushi had been forced to learn every single expression and body language.

For a man who did things very differently than what he promised, it was his silence that gave her answers. When he had looked away right after Holi, declaring he didn’t remember anything, she realized he remembered everything.

When he had looked away, telling her their marriage was still a contract, she realized he was telling anything but the truth.

She had assumed he wasn’t meeting her eyes because he felt guilty for not being there when Shyam was harassing her. For all the previous accusations. For being unaware what being married in this house meant.

But Arnav was rarely a person to ruminate on the past, no matter how terrible his deeds were. He never shied from looking straight into someone’s eyes if there was a grain of truth.

And the only time he met her eyes, frightened, was when she joked that he had switched off the lights.

Khushi’s chest tightened. A rock lodged itself in her heart. Her hands still hovered across the face as she searched his tormented face for answers. No, this couldn’t be her Arnav.

“You didn’t reach home on time by coincidence. You… you did it?” She agonized, her hands falling to her sides. Arnav immediately grabbed her hands, “Khushi I didn’t know all of this would happen-”

“Why Arnav-ji?” Khushi snatched her hands away and buried her face in her palms.

“Khushi, I’m sorry. I really didn’t know-”

“You didn’t know?” She snapped, “What did you not know? I told you what happened when I was eight. I literally fainted and developed a fever in Nainital because I was in a dark room. It happened in front of you! You know what happens Mr. Raizada.” Veins stood on her neck as she yelled at him.

“Khushi I did not mean to hurt you-”

“Then what did you mean to do? What in the world did I do to deserve this? Who have I hurt in your family again? How have I hurt you?” Khushi demanded, angry tears threatening to spill. Arnav looked away and refilled her glass of water.

“Look at me Mr. Raizada. You hate it when others look away while talking right, well that’s applicable to you too. Why did you do this?” Khushi stood up, wavering on her two feet.

Arnav rushed to her and held her before she fell. Khushi struggled in his grip but he didn’t relent.

“You’ll fall Khushi.” He warned.

“I don't care. I just feel like an idiot for running straight into your arms-” Khushi stopped, her eyes widening in disbelief.

You’ll come back to me. You’ll accept me as your husband. In fact you’ll run straight into my arms.

“You did this for a challenge?” Khushi shuddered and swayed. Arnav put her back on the bed and she remained quiet. Arnav waited for her outpour. For her to hold him responsible and yell at him for being insensitive. He could only apologize after she punished him.

Except Khushi sat quietly, tears streaming down her cheeks until they ran dry.

“Say something,” He requested.

“What should I say? I can’t say I hate you because I don’t. I can’t say I want to leave you because I know what the consequences of that are. I can’t say I’m heartbroken because you’ve heard that a thousand times and there’s been no difference. It’s just disappointing that you’re been cruel on things that needed no cruelty.” Khushi lamented, fidgeting with the band aid on her arm.

Their wedding, her accepting him as husband or a hug - all he ever needed to do was ask. Yet they’ve all been painted with brutality.

Perhaps it is her fate, she couldn’t fault him entirely when destiny itself was written against her.

“Khushi, how can I fix this?” Arnav asked. He was met by her mirthless chuckle.

“You cannot Arnav-ji. To hurt me once is an incident, twice is a mistake but the third time's a pattern.” Khushi rued, her face as pale as before, her eyes hollow. She had finally given up on this relationship because there was never a day where he wouldn’t hurt her. That fact alone broke her poor heart to pieces because there is no other man she could love as much.

Nor another man who could love her in return. In whatever bits and pieces she had received his love, it was filled with such intimacy and belonging that she had never had before. His love for his family was unparalleled. She just had the childish wish of being his family too.

Arnav’s heart sank at her calm disposition. He saw hope and love diminish in her eyes. Even though he was sitting right next to her, the distance hadn’t been greater. He couldn’t breathe.

When your loved one walks away from you, you will stop breathing.

Clarity dawned on him and he grabbed her pale hands and Khushi balked. These were the eyes of a man determined and no good had resulted from it.

“Khushi, I am very sorry for everything I’ve done and I am going to fix this.” He vowed.

“Arnav-ji, please. The day I reciprocate you’re going to do something worse. And this time I won’t be able to survive it.” Khushi pleaded.

“That won’t happen Khushi. I won’t promise anything, but I swear I’m not going to hurt you like this - ever.” Arnav stressed. Khushi looked away, there was no way she was going to look into his beautiful eyes when he said everything she had wanted to hear.

“I know you won’t believe me. And that’s understandable given how I've been. But this time-”

“This time what Arnav-ji? You’re not going to let me go? You’re going to make me accept that you’re my husband? You’ll tell my parents about our relationship?” Khushi cut in. How dare he make promises after violating her fears? How dare he treat her hurt as nothing? How dare he look like he loves her?

Because love shouldn’t hurt so much.

“This time I’ll prove that I’m a good husband.” Arnav solemnly vowed.

“What?”

“I realize there’s a fundamental logic lacking in the whole argument of me wanting you to accept me as husband.” Arnav perked up as if a light bulb had just flickered in his head, “It’s that I’m not husband material. Not by a mile away. So of course, this marriage is heading down a disastrous path. Therefore it’s done.”

“What is done?” Khushi was stunned. Either Arnav was suddenly drunk or he was possessed. By his smirk the latter half seemed likely.

“The fact that I’ll be such a husband that you’ll grab the first person you see and declare yourself as Mrs. Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada.” Arnav proclaimed.

“Are you ok? Do I put a bed for you here?” Khushi touched his forehead, genuinely worried for his health.

“I haven’t been better. I know what to do but before that I need to know two things from you.” Khushi bristled at his optimism and glared at him.

“Ask, this seems a lot like another stupid challenge where you’ll do anything to have me-”

“-exactly Khushi. Why do you think I want to have you?” Arnav asked. He folded his arms as Khushi flustered.

“What do you want to ask me?” Khushi changed the topic and fidgeted with her band aid.

“Khushi, promise me you won’t ever hide anything from me. I need to know everything about Shyam. It does not matter if it hurts me, Di or anybody.” Arnav’s momentary smile was lost. Khushi led out a deep breath. Her role in ruining Anjali’s life by not telling the truth wasn’t lost on her. In an attempt to validate her intentions she had spread a wildfire with her secrecy.

“I promise,” She whispered. Arnav nodded and kneeled by her bed, taking her hands once again into his.

“Khushi, do you truly want to leave this marriage? Do you want something else from life? Because-” Khushi choked up and glared at him.

“-you really need an answer for this Arnav-ji? Do you not know what I want?” Khushi’s question was answered by the briefest kiss on her forehead. Her eyes shut, savoring the feel of his lips on her forehead. She must be completely touch deprived at this point.

“Then I’m sorry Khushi, for everything I have ever done. And I promise, I will fix things for you.” Arnav stood up and walked to the door, not before turning back and giving her a look with hope and longing.

And like the fool in love she was, Khushi Kumari Gupta found herself giving him the last chance knowing things would turn just right.

--- --- ---

A/N: Inspired by a very famous hug scene that left a very bitter aftertaste in my mouth. Hope you all liked this.

JWB

tagging: @shaonsim @zaphbeeblebrox @shiyaravi @chutkiandchotte @featheredclover @goals1024 @honeybellexox @darkchocolatestuff @charucoal @thedupattaknowswhatsup @bigfatreader @lostafpanda @exosexosekai @hi-this-is-permabanned @scorpio-smiles @noor1025 @minpdnim @laad-governess @barshifan @whateverworks21 @maansiloves @samuraisamsworld @dropsofserenity @muttonthings @rae-blogging @charucoal @aye-masakalii (updating this list - lemme know who wants to be added/deleted)

#IPKKND #arshi #ipkknd ff #fanfic #jalebi writes

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chaiandtakkar · 2 months ago

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Whispers Beneath the Stars

Chapter 1

May 1998, Bangalore

The hum of the dial-up internet still echoed in 16-year-old Khushi’s ears as the cyber café finally sprang to life. This was her weekly escape. When things got stifling between Amma and Appa, Khushi ran to this hidden corner of the world. Tucked away from the humdrum of burgeoning Bangalore, the café was a safe haven—a small cubicle with a plastic chair, a flickering monitor, and the thrill of connecting with people miles away.

She drummed her fingers on the desk, glancing at the timer on the computer screen—50 minutes left of her prepaid hour. Anytime now, she thought, the minutes ticking louder in her mind.

She leaned forward in her chair, squinting at the glowing screen. They had a rhythm, she and Skybound. He always showed up five minutes after her, like clockwork. And today, just as expected there it was—the familiar sound she had been waiting for, the uh-oh of ICQ, signaling a new message. The chat room opened, and a message blinked at her from an anonymous familiar visitor. No names exchanged.. Just conversation. A secret she indulged in every week.

She smiled. This stranger was becoming her favorite part of the week.

Skybound: Back again, I see. Couldn’t resist the allure of my charming personality, could you?

Khushi bit back a smile, fingers flying across the keyboard.

OceanBreeze:Oh, don’t flatter yourself. I just needed a distraction from my boring life. Figured I can use a laugh.

There was a pause, the cursor blinking as she waited for his reply. All she knew was that he was from somewhere up north, but beyond that, he was a mystery. And it didn’t matter—this was the one place where she didn’t need to explain herself or carry the weight of everything happening in the real world.

Skybound: A laugh? I’m always here to serve. Need me to trip over something?

She exhaled a soft giggle. For a moment, she glanced around the café, her lips caught between her teeth, suddenly self-conscious. Laughing in public wasn’t something she did often—it was something Amma would find out of place. Here though, with Skybound, she didn’t have to hide.

OceanBreeze: Oh, please. You sound too coordinated for that. I bet you’re the type who walks in slow motion while everyone else stumbles.

Skybound: You got me. But it’s not my fault. The universe just gave me the gift of looking good from every angle.

OceanBreeze: Wow. Humble too, I see.

Skybound: What can I say? When you have your sisters constantly criticizing your every move, you’ve got to boost your own ego. It’s survival.

Khushi rolled her eyes, though a grin tugged at her lips. His humor had a way of easing the heaviness she carried.

OceanBreeze: So how many sisters do you have, anyway?

Skybound: Three sisters. Why, you want one?

Khushi burst out laughing in the quiet café, earning a few glances from the other cubicles. She quickly typed back.

OceanBreeze: Three sisters? You’re living in a circus, not a house!

Skybound: You have no idea. They run my life. I just exist in their kingdom, like a court jester trying not to get fired.

OceanBreeze: Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re holding your own pretty well. three sisters and a sense of humor? You must be some kind of superhero.

Skybound: I’ll take that as a compliment. But you — appears no siblings at all? Seems a bit too quiet. Doesn’t it get lonely? You can certainly have some of mine, free trial.

Khushi paused for a moment, the cursor blinking at her. Lonely. It wasn’t something she thought about often, but there was a truth in the word that made her pause. She brushed it off, typing quickly before the feeling settled in.

OceanBreeze: Sounds like a good trade to me! How about you take my Chikkamma for a week, and I’ll take your sisters?

Skybound: Deal! But I warn you, they might try to turn you into their personal doll. Are you ready for glitter and fashion critiques?

OceanBreeze: As long as I get out of the cooking lectures, I’m game!

Skybound: Just remember, once you step into their world, there’s no escape. I might be the handsome prince, but I’m still trapped in their castle!

Khushi laughed, shaking her head. She could almost picture him now—some guy with an easy grin, confident in a way that wasn’t obnoxious but just enough to make her wonder.

OceanBreeze: And here I thought you were living the glamorous life.

Skybound: Glamorous? Me? Ha. My life’s a mix of tea breaks and avoiding household chores. But hey, it’s a peaceful existence.

OceanBreeze: Tea and avoiding chores sounds a lot like heaven to me right now.

Skybound: Oh yeah? What’s got you running from home today?

Khushi paused for a second. She could feel the cool Bangalore breeze through the café’s windows, and the hint of rain in the air seemed to match her mood. The silence between her and Amma at home had been growing louder, and escaping to the café was the only way to breathe.

OceanBreeze: Same old. Amma wants me to be more responsible, Appa wants me to study harder..

The cursor blinked as she pressed send. Skybound's reply came swiftly.

Skybound: Ah, the classic. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m supposed to be peeling vegetables right now.

Khushi could imagine it now—this mysterious boy somewhere in a bustling household, juggling demands from three sisters while plotting his own small rebellions. It felt surreal, talking to someone she’d never seen but could picture so clearly in her mind.

OceanBreeze: I knew it! The glamorous life. Next thing you’ll tell me is you’re also a master chef.

Skybound: Nope. But I can manage pretty decent pakoras without setting the kitchen on fire. Does that count?

OceanBreeze: Impressive. A man of many talents.

Skybound: What can I say? I aim to surprise. But what about you? Any secret talents?

OceanBreeze: Hah. I wish. Mostly I’m just trying to survive the week without upsetting Amma and Chikkama.

Skybound: Well, you made it here. That’s gotta count for something. Plus, you’ve got me for company. That’s a win, right?

Khushi’s smile softened. His words wrapped around her like a warm blanket, easing the tension in her shoulders. He had no idea how much she needed this, this simple escape into lighthearted banter, a world where she didn’t have to carry the weight of her family’s expectations.

OceanBreeze: Yeah. I guess that’s something. Your simple life sounds like the kind of escape I need.

Skybound: Who knew avoiding chores could be so inspiring? You should try it sometime.

OceanBreeze: Maybe I will. But for now, I’ll just live vicariously through your peaceful existence.

Skybound: My peaceful existence is here for your entertainment, any time.

She laughed again, the sound softer this time. There was something about him—his mix of devilish charm and simplicity—that made her feel lighter, like the weight she carried wasn’t so heavy when they talked.

OceanBreeze: Thanks for that. You have no idea how much I needed this tonight.

Skybound: You’re welcome. Anytime you need a break from your perfect-daughter-niece duties, you know where to find me.

OceanBreeze: I’ll hold you to that.

There was a comfort in their banter, a lightness that made Khushi forget the weight of the day. She didn’t know his name, or anything about him beyond these fragments, but it didn’t matter. In this space, she didn’t need to. It was like slipping into another world, where nothing mattered except the words on the screen and the connection they formed.

Skybound:Well, stranger, until next time, then?

Khushi smiled, her fingers tapping lightly on the keys as she sent her final message.

OceanBreeze: Until next time.

Khushi smiled, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Talking to Skybound felt like slipping into a different world, one where she didn’t have to pretend, didn’t have to hold back. Maybe that’s why, after all these months, she hadn’t asked for his name or shared hers. It was safer this way—letting him remain a mystery, just like she was to him. And yet, week after week, she returned. She couldn’t quite explain why, but something about him made her feel understood in a way that no one else did.

She logged off, the café’s hum fading as she stepped outside into the humid Bangalore night.

>>Chapter 2

Also on Blog here

@arshifiesta

#arshi #arnav singh raizada #ipkknd fanfic #ipkknd #khushi kumari gupta #13 years of ippknd #ippknd #is pyar ko kya naam doon

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9artsdragon · 3 months ago

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An amateur fan fiction; My happy place ❤️

#ipkknd #arnav and khushi #sanaya irani #arnav #arnav singh raizada #fanfic #arshi #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #khushi kumari gupta #barunsobti

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msbhagirathi · 5 months ago

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FOR REAL. AND THIS IS EVERYONE WHO COME, READ AND LEAVE WITHOUT DROPPING A LIKE OR COMMENT. FOR THE LAST TIME. I. WILL. LOVE. YOUR. LIKE. OR. COMMENT. BYE.

To my readers:

If your comment is long and rambling and full of quotes you enjoyed, I will love it.

If your comment is full of story related questions, I will love it.

If your comment is a single sentence, I will love it.

If your comment is a single emoji, or a string of them, I will love it.

If you comment, I will love it. It's that simple.

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scorpio-smiles · 10 months ago

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The feminine urge to write an arshi angsty one shot after reading an arshi fanfic where Arnav doesn’t treat khushi like a queen in the beginning 😭

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myfanficfrenzy · 8 months ago

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AI art inspired from beautiful Arshi fanfic by Meera30 : A river runs through it

#arnav and khushi #ipkknd #arshi ff #arshiff #arshi fanfic #arshi #arnav x khushi #arnavkhushi #arnav singh raizada #a river runs through it #meera30 #fanart

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hand-written-dreams · 29 days ago

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CRIMSON SHADE

Chapter 16

Beneath The Surface

If I told you what I was

Would you turn your back on me?

And if I seem dangerous

Would you be scared?

- ( The song of this chapter is 'Monster' by Imagine Dragons)

18 years ago

Arnav was born in Chicago. He spent the first twelve years of his life there, surrounded by relatively normal people, living a relatively normal life, before stepping foot in this country two years ago. The transition was a jarring experience. Adapting to the food, language, and traditions felt like stepping into a whole new world. On top of that, the gruelling physical training imposed on him made it all the more challenging.

He had grown up blissfully unaware of his father's ties to the mafia. He wished her mother prepared him well enough before thrusting him into this completely new world.

Blindsided and unprepared.

They lived in this sprawling multistory mansion owned by Mr.Rathore, the ultimate boss, aka the Godfather of this dangerous empire. While others had separate apartments within the estate, they all lived, ate, and trained together as one extended family. The mansion had a central open space where everyone gathered for meals, and another vast area was dedicated to training.

But Arnav’s experience was different. Unlike the boys his age who trained in the common area, he was sent to a secluded hall to train under Master Z. His full name was 'Malik al Zalam', but he preferred to call himself 'Z'. They said Master Z made lethal weapons out of human beings. He was the top trainer of the "League of Shadows." It's an assassin organization managed by the Chicago-based mafia group, "The Outfit." Arnav didn’t fully understand why he needed such extreme training from someone like Master Z, but he didn’t have a choice.

His diet was strictly monitored, and his workouts were mercilessly scheduled. For an entire week, he trained blindfolded, enduring relentless blows that left his body aching. Then another week went by slapping water. The only good part was Mr.Raizada secretly bringing him chocolate cake when Master Z and Mr.Rathore weren’t looking.

Why Mr.Raizada and Mr.Rathore insisted on preparing him this way was a mystery to him. One thing was clear, though--he wasn’t allowed to call his father “Dad” here.

If he said that didn't hurt him, it would be a lie. But he would never acknowledge that to anybody. His dad was his favourite person. He always wanted to be like him, dress like him, talk like him. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

Every day, he watched the light fade a little more from his mother’s eyes. She was still here--physically--but only as a fragile shell of the woman she used to be. Her every movement seemed mechanical, driven solely by her duty to him, Anjali, and the baby growing inside her.

It tore at him in ways he couldn’t describe. She was dying in this house, suffocating under the weight of everything she couldn’t say. He wished when his new sibling was born, some of that light would return to her eyes. But deep down, a small part of him feared it might already be too late.

It was his first off day in what felt like forever, and he had plans--simple ones. After all the chaos of the past few weeks, he just wanted to play online games with his online friends and go to bed early.

The recent drama surrounding a failed wedding was still fresh in everyone's minds, but he couldn’t care less. Aunt Vedika, Mr.Rathore's younger sister, was supposed to marry someone from the Jha family, but the groom had fled before the wedding. And out of despair, he guessed, Aunt Vedika hanged herself in her room.

Mr.Rathore’s fury over his sister’s death was volcanic. Rumours circulated that he had kidnapped the daughter of the Gupta family as retaliation. Arnav didn’t know how true the whispers were, nor did he care. That world of vendettas and punishment seemed endless, and he wanted no part of it.

So, when a knock came at his door, cutting into his rare evening of freedom, he groaned inwardly. Mr. Raizada, stepped in, cradling a tiny, sleeping human in his arms.

“Can you watch her for the evening?” Mr. Raizada asked casually, as though this was an everyday request.

Arnav frowned, his gaze flicking between Mr.Raizada and the little girl, not more than four or five. “Is that the Gupta girl everyone’s been talking about?”

“I need you to watch her for me...like a few hours,” Mr.Raizada said, deftly avoiding the question.

Of all the things Arnav wanted to do with his free evening, that ranked dead last. He wasn’t shy about expressing that. “Why can’t you leave her with Mom or Anjali?”

“They’re not home,” Mr.Raizada replied, ever patient. “They went to the hospital for your mother’s check-up.”

Arnav slumped back in his chair. “I’m not doing it.”

Mr.Raizada tilted his head, considering, then offered, “What about...I’ll buy you that bike you’ve been eyeing. How’s that for a deal?”

Arnav’s scowl deepened. “Mr.Rathore doesn’t want me to have that bike.”

“You know what? Fuck Mr.Rathore,” Mr.Raizada said with a wink, laying the little girl gently on the sofa beside Arnav’s computer desk before turning to leave.

"What's her name?" Arnav asked looking at the little girl in a pink dress. She was tiny, unusually tiny.

"Khushi." Mr.Raizada replied shutting the door behind him.

And just like that, Arnav’s evening plans were obliterated by the arrival of a tiny sleeping intruder.

The little girl looked like a delicate porcelain doll, her tiny face framed by a cascade of dark curls that framed her head like a halo. She looked very fragile with her rosy, chubby cheeks and a button-like nose.

He noticed her shivering, the icy temperature of his room too harsh for someone so small. He sighed and grudgingly adjusted the thermostat before grabbing the throw blanket folded neatly at the edge of the sofa. His mother always insisted on keeping it there for aesthetics, a habit he found unnecessary--until now. Draping it gently over the girl, he realized how useful his mother's quirks could be in moments like these.

Satisfied that she was warm, he slipped on his headphones and lost himself in his game, the familiar world of strategy and fantasy pulling him in. Time passed unnoticed, his focus entirely on defeating opponents and levelling up.

When he finally glanced back at the sofa, he froze. The little girl was awake, her enormous eyes--disproportionately large for her tiny face--fixed on him. They reminded him of cartoon characters, wide and unblinking, filled with a mix of curiosity and drowsiness.

What if she started crying?

He had no idea what he would do if she burst into tears. But the girl didn’t cry. She simply sat there staring at him, her chubby little head tilted slightly, her confusion mirroring his own.

"Uh... hi?" he tried awkwardly, unsure if she could even understand him.

The girl blinked, her small hands clutching the edge of the throw blanket. She yawned, her expression still half-asleep, and continued watching him as if he were the most fascinating thing in the room. And then out of nowhere, she smiled.

A completely radiant smile.

A smile that turned her cartoonish eyes into twinkling half-moons.

It lit up her entire tiny face.

He felt his own lips twitch as well.

Another knock at his door and he exhaled a sigh of relief, hoping it was Mr.Raizada coming to take the girl off his hands. But it was Omprakash, one of Mr.Rathore's loyal staff.

“Arnav Baba, Vikrant Sir asked to take the girl to the basement,” Omprakash said flatly.

The basement!!

Nothing good ever happened in the basement. It wasn’t a place for a little girl like her, hell, it wasn’t a place for anyone, not even grown men.

Since moving here, he had spent most of his free time exploring the sprawling property that Mr.Rathore called home. His curiosity eventually led him to discover the basement’s grim purpose. It was a place of torture, where information was extracted, enemies were punished, and murders were carried out.

What did they plan for this little girl?

Were they going to hurt her as retaliation for Aunt Vedika's death?

Or worse, were they going to do something similar to what they’d done to Payal?

His heartbeat escalated.

She was so young for any of this.

And so defenceless.

And so so small.

Omprakash didn’t hesitate, scooping the girl into his arms and heading toward the basement. She clung to the throw blanket Arnav had wrapped her in, her tiny face peeking over Omprakash’s shoulder.

Arnav hesitated only for a moment before springing into action. He needed to know what they were planning. Discreetly, he followed Omprakash down the hall, his footsteps light and deliberate. And the whole way, the little girl kept looking at Arnav over Omprakash's shoulder.

With her huge cartoonish hazel eyes.

Present day

She still has those cartoonish eyes.

And he wants to see those eyes as the life drained out of them, those damning eyes that push him into hell.

Every fucking time.

Every fucking way.

He watches her from the shadows as her car moves past the gates of the Gupta mansion, just like he spent years watching her from afar. She is both a punishment and a compulsion. She is a living wound that festers in his soul, poisoning his every thought.

Hatred claws at his chest, sharp and unrelenting, but beneath it lies something darker, something he refuses to acknowledge. He hates her with a rage so consuming it burns through his veins like wildfire. His hatred has a pulse, a rhythm that quickens every time he sees her.

It infuriates him.

It fascinates him.

And one day, he will take what he owes, and maybe then he'll find some peace. Maybe then, his chest wouldn't feel so tight every fucking second of every single day. Every single day she lived, every single day he survived.

Every single fucking day.

He's been thinking about it for so long.

She is going to die at his hands.

The most beautiful death.

It will be a sight to behold.

The roar of the bike engine fills the night air as he races down the empty streets. The cold wind bites at his skin, but it does little to cool the fire of his thoughts. The images of her, are like ghosts riding alongside him.

Haunting and relentless.

Her eyes, her defiance, the way she looked at him with a mix of fear and something else he couldn't quite place. His grip tightens on the handlebars.

Her voice echoes in the distance of his mind, soft and light, as though it isn’t built on the ruins of his life. It mocks him and tempts him until he can’t look away. She shouldn’t have this...this liberty to torment him. She shouldn’t exist at all. And yet, his mind is a prison, every thought chained to her. He imagines her face when he isn’t trying to, her voice slipping into his ears unbidden. The curve of her lips, the way her hair falls against her cheek...it infuriates him how clearly he can picture it all.

And then there’s the way she moves, the way she smiles at people who don’t deserve it, at men who dare to stand too close. It sends a rush of fury through him, cold and bitter. She doesn’t see him watching, doesn’t know he lingers on the edges of her life, orchestrating and unravelling her world in equal measure.

Something darker, stranger and far more dangerous coils tightly around his hatred, suffocating and exhilarating. He despises himself as much as he despises her for letting his hatred be tainted, for letting his hatred cross a line. His hatred isn’t pure anymore. It’s stained with something way more sinister.

It’s an infection, a sickness, a madness that grows with every passing day. And yet, he cannot stop.

She is his punishment.

His fixation.

His downfall.

All his life, he thrives on control in every aspect. And he has achieved it. Every emotion, every instinct, is meticulously reined in...his anger, his hatred towards her, and the burning urge to track her down and end her life.

And she comes and wrecks it all.

He hates her more for it. But, he hates her most for the way he craves her...

She is unbearable to look at.. intolerable even, not granting the mercy of looking away. Everything about her exudes a perilous beauty, like a rose unapologetically flaunting its thorns. She's alluring in the way deadly things often are.

Her beauty is..dangerously toxic.

It's venomous.

It's alarming.

It's unsettling.

He remembers how she looked earlier this evening. Every part of him burned the fire so fiercely it almost felt like his skin was being seared by her presence alone. His body stirred without his permission, a brutal, bone-meting wave of desire crashing through him, leaving him weak, exposed. He gritted his teeth fighting the rush, but it was futile, an insatiable hunger sank into his bones, making it impossible to think of anything else but her.

She was so close, yet a universe way. His hands twitched at his sides desperate to touch, to feel the softness of her skin beneath his fingers. Every inch of her called to him..her smile, her eyes, the curve of her neck, her bare back...

It's intoxicating.... lethally captivating.

It ripped through him, tearing apart his control, leaving nothing but an overwhelming need that clawed at his chest. His eyes raked over her, and the sight of her..so effortlessly enthralling, so unaware of the chaos she stirred....

He wanted to feel her beneath him, wanted to lose himself in the softness of her body, wanted to strip away every layer of resistance until there was nothing between them but skin, heat, and the sound of their breath.

His body reacted before his mind caught up, hard, aching, and wild with the need to claim her, to possess her completely. His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as he forced himself to look away, but it was no use. She's seared into his mind, every part of her haunting him, wrapping him tighter in the need to break her apart and piece her back together in his image.

He turns his bike sharply, the screech of tyres breaking the silence of the empty streets. Her name echoes in his head, both a mantra he can’t silence and a curse.

He hates her for what she does to him. But more than that, he hates how he can't control himself around her...And it sickens him. He wants to destroy her, wants to ruin her for anyone else because if he can't have her, no one can.

There's no reason left. No logic. Only the raw, primal urge to have her, to mark her as his, to remind her that she belongs to his rage, his grief, his chaos.

He made plans, damnit.

Meticulous plans, to end the cycle.

To end her.

All his revenge would be served, and he wouldn’t even have to pull the trigger himself. He could simply sit back and enjoy the show.

It feels like fate is mocking him. The last 18 years of his life were spent believing who she was not. She is not who the world thinks she is.

Yet, still, she was the catalyst of the chaos that consumed his life. All the deaths he endured and caused, all the blood staining his hands.

He bought her life at the cost of countless others.

It shouldn't change anything for him after knowing who she is. He should have let his plan work as it is. He should have let the Wolves end her tonight.

But he is here again.

Back to square one.

Protecting her from the monsters again.

One that he unleashed upon the world.

And one that is raging within him.

The city lights blur into streaks of colour as his bike speeds through the empty streets. A creature of night.

When it comes to monsters, there's always one bigger and more vicious than the rest, like the one he’s about to hunt tonight.

Sex trafficking and the red-light district trade are colossal enterprises within the Triad, encompassing casinos, clubs, and high-society escort services hidden behind the facade of luxury resorts and hotels like The Crown and many more like that. All three families reap the rewards, their coffers overflowing from this grim business.

To avoid internal wars and eliminate competition, the Triad formed a separate syndicate solely for this venture. Profits are divided into four parts: one for each family and one for the employees. This syndicate, known as the Triad Tribe, operates independently, answering only to a specific captain, a leader chosen annually by the three bosses. It is an important position, overseeing a fortune that flows through the darkest veins of society.

That reminds him, he has a meeting with the Triad Tribe captain, Dhruv Rao, early tomorrow morning. He plans to approach the Tribe defensively. If Dhruv Rao gives him what he wants, he might grant the man a few months of reprieve...maybe.

The business of the Tribe has been bleeding losses for the family ever since their international shipment of trafficked women was intercepted by the CBI five years ago, due to an anonymous tip. Since then, the Triad Tribe has halted human trafficking operations overseas, focusing instead on managing red-light areas, brothels, casinos, and clubs.

However, controlling internal trafficking and sexual coercion has proven trickier. Over the last few years, brothels and clubs have faced frequent police raids--again, sparked by anonymous tips. While these raids rarely shut the businesses down permanently, they freed many girls held there against their will.

And through this very process, he has quietly built a network of spies within the Triad Tribe. The rehabilitation centre he's funded anonymously became a refuge for these rescued women. Some of them, determined to save others, agree to act as his informants. Pretending to be sex workers, they infiltrate the operations, gathering intel for him.

It is through one of these spies that he's learned about a Wolves member, currently indulging himself in a hotel room above one of the triad tribe clubs--a man working in the family’s security detail. Not the head himself, Adam Hunt, an ex-American Navy SEAL, but someone linked to him. The same man whose subordinates accosted Miss Gupta tonight.

According to his spy within the Wolves family, they still don’t know anything about the killing of Preetika Nair. If that were true, then why is this man in the city?

Dressed in all black, he moves like a Ghost. A mask covers his face from the nose down, and the hood of his leather hoodie is pulled low, shrouding his features. The darkness is his ally, and he knows how to disappear within it.

Tonight, he carries no firearms--only his crossbow. The absence of a gun doesn’t bother him. If anything, it adds a thrill to the hunt. Looks like he’ll have to get creative with this motherfucker.

Holding the upper edges of the window, he leaps onto the pipe running along the side of the building. His muscles, guided by memory, move efficiently as he begins to climb, one foot pressing against the window frame, the other braces on the pipe.

Stopping at the window five stories above, he peers inside and spots Vishal Hegre sprawled on the bed, grinning as two girls service him.

Moving with feline stealth, his parkour and martial arts training taking over, he swings to hang from one hand, the other securing a firm grip on the windowsill. Ensuring the room's occupants remain engrossed, he eases the window open and slips inside, landing silently before ducking behind a large couch in the dimly lit room.

"Damn window," Vishal mutters irritably. "Go close it."

One of the girls gets up, shuts the window, and returns to the bed.

Straightening, he strides to the foot of the bed and retrieves the crossbow behind his back. Before anyone can react, he fires, embedding an arrow squarely into Vishal Hegre's palm and nailing it to the headboard. A bloodcurdling scream rips through the room as Hegre thrashes, his wide, frantic eyes darting until they land on the figure in the shadows. Terror overtakes him.

Arnav raises a gloved finger to his lips, a silent command for the girls to stay quiet.

His gaze shifts to a wallet lying on the floor near the bed. Picking it up, he pulls out the bulging bills inside and tosses them onto the bed between the trembling women.

"Get dressed," his distorted voice commands through the modulator. "Mr. Hegre no longer requires your services."

The girls scramble to comply, heads down, avoiding the sight of the man writhing on the bed. Just as they’re about to leave, his voice echoes in the dark again.

"And what will you say when you go outside?"

"Nothing, sir," they whisper in unison, their voices shaking.

The door clicks shut behind them, locking the door automatically, leaving Hegre alone with him.

"What do you want?" Hegre stammers, still struggling to free his hand from the headboard.

"They all ask the same questions," Arnav remarks. "What do you want? Who are you?"

Ignoring the man’s pleading, he moves to the table, inspecting a bottle of whiskey. It’s a good brand. Opening it, he begins pouring the amber liquid around the edges of the bed, emptying the bottle methodically. Then he fetches another bottle from the cabinet and returns, tipping some onto the writhing Hegre, soaking him in the sharp scent of alcohol.

"Are you the one killing the Triad associates?" Hegre babbles, his voice breaking. "No--please! I'll give you anything! Anything you want!"

Ah, fear. Good old fear. His old friend. They reunite again.

He has been methodically dismantling the Triad, one member, one associate at a time--silently, ruthlessly. Each death was a calculated move, a slow bleed that weakened the organization from within. He moves like a ghost. Guess, his reputation precedes him. They feel the fear before they even know he’s there.

Hegre reeks of desperation and fear, the stench mingling with alcohol and urine. Disgust flickers across Arnav’s face. It isn’t just the smell, it’s the sound of his voice--grating, unbearable.

It disgusts him even more when he starts craving her voice, soft yet commanding, the one he can still hear in his mind.

Fucking hell.

Grabbing Hegre’s hair in a firm, gloved grip, he yanks hard, eliciting another cry of pain.

"Drink," he orders.

Gulping and trembling, Hegre opens his mouth obediently. Arnav tips the bottle, pouring its raw contents down the man’s throat. Hegre chokes and coughs, sputtering as the fiery liquid burns its way down. When the bottle is nearly empty, Arnav steps back, watching as a fleeting look of relief crosses Hegre’s face.

He lets him cling to it.

For now.

He drags a chair in front of him and sits down, quietly watching him.

People always underestimate the power of silence, the way it makes people squirm, their thoughts racing for an answer, a reason. He lets the silence take over, never speaking a word, knowing full well it will force their imagination to run wild.

Will he kill them? How? A bullet to the head? A quick, painless death, or something far slower, more drawn out? Would he make them beg? Suffer? Twist their limbs, pull their skin? Or perhaps strip them of something deeper, something that would never heal?

He doesn't need to ask them anything. He knows that the longer he sits there unwavering, the more their minds will unravel, and they'd begin to question their own fate. And when they crack, when they show the first sign of weakness, then he will strike.

Quietly.

Efficiently.

"I'll tell you everything just get this thing out of my hand," Hegre says again sweating like a dog. It's pathetic, the snot, the tears as he blubbers like a baby. "P..please."

"Why are the Wolves in this area?" Arnav asks as he watches Hegre squirm.

"Umm....to..to kill the Gupta girl."

"Why?"

"Because...Shyam Jha's minion killed Mr.Naik's daughter."

"Hmm..You're an interesting person, Mr. Hegre. Your men are dead, lying by the side of the road, and you're getting your cock sucked?"

"They said they'd got it under control," Hegre mutters, his voice cracking, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

"Tsk, tsk, overconfidence is never good," Arnav clicks his tongue. "So you started the celebration early, huh? What will Mr. Hunt say about that?"

"I don't give a fuck what that American dog thinks," Hegde spits out. "I have worked for the wolves for so long...and when the head of security was to be determined, it went to that fucking bastard. I will show him I am better than him. I wanted to get the work done and surprise Mr. Naik."

"So...Mr.Hunt doesn't look know that you are here or what you were going to do?"

"No."

"Who else knows about the serpent involvement besides you?"

"No one."

"Your men?"

"Those who knew, I sent them to do that job."

A Police siren wails in the distance heightening Hegre's panic. "Let me go, man! I can't get caught here. I have a reputation."

"Mr.Hegre, do you know how hard it is to keep the Wolves from finding out who killed Miss Naik?"

Hegre's eyes widen. "You have killed the right hand man of that American dog, haven't you?"

"He was too close to find out....but you amazed me, you slipped under my radar...how did you find out?"

"The bomb...that killed Miss Naik..I knew who can make this bomb. I worked with him before..he is one of the Serpent."

"And you didn't share this information with Mr.Hunt?"

"No....You...are the one they call 'The Ghost', right?" Hegde's eyes are telling Arnav that he knows his time is up, that he knows what they say on the street that nobody sees 'The Ghost' unless he is going to die. "Listen, let me go, I'll join forces with you. I have a family, two daughters. I can't be caught here. I would die of shame."

Arnav watches him squirm some more, his voice calm but cutting. "Let me end your misery then."

He flickes a lighter which he retrieved earlier that day, directly from the boss himself. A snake is engraved in it, the sign of The Serpents. He tosses it onto the bed. Flames erupt immediately, licking up the soaked sheets and spreading quickly. Hegre's screams grow louder as the fire consumes him. So does the Police siren.

He jumps back from the window to the narrow alley behind the club, leaving behind a symbol of the serpent in the scene.

A warning, A massage.

For the Serpent, because this lighter will soon find Mr.Gupta. And he will know 'the Ghost' is coming after the serpent next. He is closer than they think.

The mafia war between the Serpent and the Wolves needs to start, but he has to make sure the little bird remains untouched.

She’s off-limits. No one dares lay a finger on her. He will burn the entire city down and raze it to the ground before letting anything happen to her.

Only he has the right to kill her.

No one else.

The morning light pours through the glass surrounding his high-rise office. The city below remains a blur of waking motion, but up here, he is alone, staring at the picture of a girl he hasn’t seen in sixteen years. It’s not her real photograph, just an AI-enhanced image, aged from her childhood picture to reflect what she might look like now. He hopes, almost desperately, that it matches the real person.

His jaw clenches. So many years of searching, of following false leads, of tracking shadows...and now, here she is again, in front of him, just out of reach.

He has been actively searching since he returned to this country; not once did he think to look into the Triad tribe. He should have. He doesn’t know why he overlooked it. Since when did Mr. Rathore ever keep his promises?

"Sir, Mr.Rao is here."

"Send him in."

Dhruv Rao enters the room, his easy grin at odds with the aura he carries. Once a street fighter, now one of the Triad tribe's most trusted soldiers. He started as an underground fighter and fought his way up the ranks. At such a young age, he’s become the captain of the Triad tribe, mainly due to his tenacity and his ability to command the soldiers in the streets.

"Hello, boss, what's up?" Despite his reputation in the underground arena as a fearless fighter, he is quite chirpy.

Arnav motions for him to take a seat.

"Let’s get to business first, Mr.Rao." Arnav wastes no time. "I want a favour."

"Anything, Boss."

He slides the picture across the table. "I want you to arrange this girl for me," Arnav says, gritting his teeth. He’s been searching for her everywhere. He never imagined Mr. Rathore would hide her in a place like that. But the recognition in Dhruv's eyes tells him that he has seen her before.

Damn it.

"No can do, boss," Rao responds quickly, shaking his head. "That one’s exclusive for Mr.Rathore. No one’s allowed near her room except him."

Arnav’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his composure. "And, where it is?...Her room?"

Rao hesitates, "Boss, I am really sorry. I can't give you her location. It's not permissible. Mr.Rathore passed even strict orders to inform him if anybody does look for her.....she lives like a princess in there."

He could have approached Rao in the shadows and instilled the fear of God in him until he spilled everything. But Arnav has no intention of ruffling the feathers of the Godfather of the families, not yet. Let them bask in their false sense of security a little longer.

Arnav’s eyes narrow, his voice quiet. "Mr. Rao, let’s not make this unpleasant...let not expose youself to the bosses for the minor hiccups you have over the year...they might not take them lightly. They could even start questioning your loyalty."

"I don't understand." But Rao's eyes say he knows and understands clearly.

"Hmm... let me reprase it so that you’ll understand. Why do your reports show fewer girls when I know you’re bringing in double? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to count......"

Rao gulps first, then shifts in his seat, his confidence wavering. Rao looks uneasy but doesn’t falter. "Mr.Raizada, when I was summoned, I knew I wouldn’t walk out alive. If I give you the information, I’m dead anyway. If I don’t, I die too. But man to man, I really hope you’ll give me a chance to fight for my life." He pauses, his voice dropping a little. "Next week, there’s a match. You win, I’ll tell you everything. I win, we forget this conversation ever happened. I’m a simple man, boss. I don’t want to get caught in the crossfire of these family matters."

Arnav studies him for a moment, then smirks. "A match, huh? Feeling pretty confident, Rao."

Rao straightens up, his smile returning. "They don’t call me Show Stopper for nothing."

Arnav lets the silence stretch for a moment, before he simply says, "Done."

As Dhruv Rao exits his office, Arnav dials a familiar number.

"I miss you too, bestie," comes through the line, after the first ring.

Mathur's annoyingly smug and sleepy tone made Arnav sigh. He summons every ounce of patience he can muster. At times, he isn’t sure if he wants to strangle the man or laugh at his absurdity. Somehow, though, the bastard is probably the only person on the planet who can get away with calling him bestie. Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

"Wake up, Asshole."

"Why, who died?" Mathur mumbles, the sound of a yawn escaping.

"You’re about to," Arnav snaps. "If you don’t show up in the office in the next 30 minutes."

"Okay Mr. Grumpy-pants, make it 45," Mathur replies lazily, then his tone turns serious. "How was the meeting?"

Arnav scoffs in the solitude of his office. The meeting hadn’t gone as he intended.

"Keep an eye on Dhruv Rao. Hack his phone. GPS, earphones, everything. I want to know where he goes, who he talks to."

Author’s Note:

Hello, everyone. I’m back and excited to share the chapter. I went to have some vitamin sea and it was a much needed escape from the hectic life.

Let me know how you are liking this dark version of ASR. Also I am open for suggestions. Leave a comment if there's any other way you want to see him.

Bye, bye.

@arshifiesta @featheredclover @phuljari @chutkiandchotte @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @9artsdragon @chaiandtakkar @msbhagirathi

#arnav singh raizada #ipkknd #khushi kumari gupta #arnav and khushi #arshi #13 years of ipkknd #arshi fanfic #crimson_shade #ipk 13th anniversary fiesta

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exosexosekai · 1 year ago

Video

PLEASE I LOVE FOR THIS NOW MAKE IT HAPPEN😭😭😭😭😭

Guess who had loads of time on their hands today? My challenge to myself was to use only the episodes I already had at my disposal.

I present to you…. Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon? but as a romcom! :)

#GIVE ME THE FANFICS AT LEAST #😭😭😭😭😭#ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #arshi #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #barun sobti #sanaya irani #fanfic trailer

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msbhagirathi · 7 months ago

Text

Moon-struck (For Arshi Fiesta)

Aao parmeswariyon welcome. :)

He stared at the random but ~not so random~ word, google had dared to suggest to him today, staring back at him. As if to challenge him to deny the truth written beneath it as it's 'meaning'.

He slammed the cover of the iPad and threw it away on his bed. He pulled out his belt only to slam it away on the floor.

He tore through his hair with both his hands, resting them at the nape of his neck, with the fingers intertwined.

He couldn't deny the effect that, that slip of a girl had on him ever since she had bombarded into his life quite literally.

He still used to feel restless and anxious almost all the time but it was not due to the anger and desperation of the trauma that he had to go through as early as fourteen. He could admit it to himself that he still used to wake up in the middle of the night with a start. But it wasn't due to the fear and panic which used to make him feel like breaking into tears and cry away for the rest of the hours in the vicinity of the walls of his room.

Rather it was due to the fact that a certain someone in a red chiffon saree, a barely there blouse, with no room for a bra had started coming to meet him in the privacy of his dreams.

The two frail doris tied above the shoulder blades, jet black straight hair pushed to one side of a shoulder. And just when he used to about to touch them, grab them in a bunch to bring them at the back and run his fingers through them.

There would be nothing accept the darkness around him to comfort him of the teeth shattering anticipation.

Heart galloping as if no tomorrow, and lungs struggling as if there was a sudden shortage of air around him. The hair pulling frustration running back to him and he used to fall back on his bed.

Again going through the charade of tossing and turning around until light flimsy excuse of a sleep used to evade him.

And yet when he used to wake up in the morning to start his day. He ~very strangely so~ used to feel as fresh as ever. Well rested, satiated and calm and absolutely at peace.

He knew he had somehow fallen for her.

He had seen her innocence when she used to distribute prasad and teeka to everyone around her cubicle on her floor, greeting them with 'shubh prabhat' and 'devi maiyya ki kripa se apka din mangalmay ho.'

He had seen her brilliance in the way she had handled the menial tasks that he had given her.

He had seen her kindness when she had given away a pair of bangles, which she had liked and bought for herself, to a little girl who had also liked them but was far from being able to afford them. Across the street of where his car had happened to be parked one day.

"Fuck."

He slammed his hands on the window in front of him.

He knew he had fallen for her hard. A lil bit too hard for his own liking.

He knew he was love-struck.

He knew he was moon-struck.

P.S.: So. ladies and gentlemen Sanka devis and Laard governors. *bows down with exaggerated gRaCe* This sweet short rendition was written much to the threat invitation received from @phuljari di. Hope you enjoy. :)

Credits: @arshifiesta

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featheredclover · 5 months ago

Text

Orphic

Chapter Seven

Read from the beginning

Also on Wattpad

Chapter Six> < > Epilogue

Stray dogs lazed around, with the sun’s rays kissing them gently. A lone car drove by.

Hari Prakash yawned discreetly.

Khushi knew he had a barrage of questions for her. After all, she had woken him up to drive her an hour before the actual timing!

But she couldn’t tell him what even she didn’t know yet….

Even now, she knew it was a gamble to assume Arnav would be there just because Aman mentioned once that he always liked to be in the office before his employees.

What an odd man!

——————

Her cold hands knocked on his cabin door.

“Come in, Aman “

Hesitating at that, Khushi took another moment before going in.

He sat hunched over a piece of paper, while a bunch of files lay haphazardly around him.

A strand of hair marred his forehead, his eyes scrunched with focus.

He finally looked up, dropping his pen as he stood up.

“Khushi?”

“I wanted to ask you about yesterday “

He bit his lip and she resisted the urge to blush at the action.

“So Miss Gupta. You are here an hour early because you wanted to ask me about….?”

“Yesterday “ she repeated innocently.

“What about it?” He pushed the files aside.

“You left me without saying a word-“

“I did say a word”

“ ‘No’ doesn't count!” She almost scolded before seeing the smirk on his face.

Realising he was wearing her thin, he put up his hands in surrender.

“Okay, I admit I was not expecting the news”

“And what about dinner?”

“Your father got the deal, didn’t he tell you?” He stepped around his table and walked up to her.

“So you and your dad came to dinner to celebrate the deal?” She frowned.

“Smart girl, “ he whispered.

“How dare y-?”

He cut her off with an arm around her waist as she was pulled up against him.

“What are you doing?”she gasped.

“What I have been wanting to do since you sat there sipping whisky, dancing and wearing that dress which made me want to rip it right off you”

His husky whisper made her shiver.

“Arnav” she moaned as he pulled her closer.

“Khushi” he whispered as his nose nudged hers.

Their eyes caught each other for a moment . A moment before he kissed her.

She clutched his shirt as he kissed her softly. Tenderly. Her knees trembled. Her hands shook with desire. She parted her lips, and he thrust in letting his tongue twirl around hers.

Too much. This was too much.

Sensing her need to breathe , he let her lips go. But there was no respite as he kissed hotly down her throat. She felt feverish with lust when his hand wrapped around her breast.

“God” she called out.

“Arnav “ he corrected cheekily.

He claimed her lips again. Another swift kiss later, they held each other as their breathing calmed.

“Breakfast?”he grinned.

——————

The majestic view of Lucknow glittered, as Khushi sat on the beautiful terrace of an English breakfast place. They seemed to be the only customers this early in the morning.

She wondered vaguely about Arnav vanishing as soon as he drove them here.

What’s taking him so long?

She looked around again, smiling when she caught sight of him.

“Where have you been?”

“Oh, Aman called for something “

The waiter set down the pancakes and bowls of banana yoghurt.

Arnav grabbed the teapot and started pouring it into her cup, his hands trembling slightly.

“Arnav?”

His eyes melted something in her. She was used to the devilish glint in them. This new vulnerability he was unravelling for her to see, made her heart flutter.

“Khushi I….” He looked around nervously.

He shuffled his pocket before he set something on the table.

A flask of whiskey. Her flask of whisky.

She looked at him in disbelief, as he smiled helplessly.

“I stole for the first time in my life because of you Khushi Gupta “

He gently took her hands in his own.

“ I meant what I said….You had me smitten the moment I saw you”

Khushi didn’t know what to say. He was saying what she had wished deep in her heart for him to feel. The desire for him had grown even without her realising.

“I had confided in my father to ask the Guptas for your hand in marriage”

“What?!” She felt a strange joy in the pit of her stomach.

“Yes Khushi. But he wanted me to wait because he felt your family would feel pressured. You know because of the new venture?......I had to convince myself to wait, and yet when you came that day all, looking all guilty…”

“You took the hotel projects away from the Khandelwals?”

“It was never theirs” he flashed her a sardonic smile.

“My brother-in-law, Shyam leaked the false news to the media. He knew dad hates to be known as someone unsure of his decision. So he thought if it was announced that Rocky had the contract, we would be forced to give him the contract!”

“Your sister knew?”

“Of course she did” bitterness clouding his voice.

“She values that crook of her husband more than dad”

“I am sorry Arnav “

“It’s fine Khushi. If Di wants to be with him, I am no one to interfere. She is an adult after all,”

“I guess” she sighed.

“Now there’s no reason to wait”

“To wait?”

Arnav stood up, his face set in tense lines.

He kneeled down, his hands holding a velvet box.

Khushi gasped.

He opened the box to reveal the most beautiful diamond encrusted in a gleaming gold band.

Her eyes filled with tears, as she raised a trembling hand to her lips.

“Khushi Gupta, wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you!”

She giggled, “Elvis Presley! Really?”

He smiled.

“You are an orphic mystique, Khushi. The moment I saw you, I felt…something beyond me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you please do the honour of marrying me?”

Tagging: @arshifiesta

——————

Next chapter>>

@hand-picked-star @msbhagirathi @phuljari @thenainitaldisaster @thedupattaknowswhatsup @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @barshifan @andli @shiyaravi @chutkiandchotte @laad-governess @leila1 @minpdnim @bigfatreader @arshiradio @simplycurlz @scorpio-smiles @bengudill @exosexosekai @0218fm

#ipkknd #arshi #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #fanfic #ipk 13th anniversary fiesta #arnavsinghraizada #arnav x khushi #ipkknd fanfic #ipkknd ff #ipkknd fanfiction #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #featheredclover #writing

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exosexosekai · 1 year ago

Text

I WOKE UP TO THIS VIOLANCE

IPKKND SS: Madaari

Madaari - Puppeteer. Trickster. Magician. Conjurer. A street performer who entertains the public by training (torturing) animals to dance.

Trigger Warning: none | Word Count: 2400+

Read Chapter 1

#Chapter 2

Shyam watched the Gupta family fret over Khushi. It was Devi Maiyya’s sign, he had to do away with Khushi Gupta and her family as soon as possible. The strings were too messy, and what if her memory recovered?

He smiled at the paralyzed Shashi Gupta - so much for playing hero for his daughter. Shashi grumbled, tears and rage filling the old eyes but Shyam could only hide a laugh as Garima had to tend to wipe the drool away from Shashi’s face.

That man was never going to be fine, Shyam made sure of it.

The medicines they diligently fed Shashi were his path to a slow, natural, death.

After all he was Khushi’s father, he couldn’t condemn him to a painful death.

Khushi’s heart hurt more than her head. A sharp pain. Arnav was here.

She woke up, looking around, barely remembering the ride to her home. Shyam had assisted her to her room, tucking her neatly and explaining the situation to her family.

She slept even before she knew it.

“He’s not here.” Khushi stiffened as Payal sat next to her, a fresh bandaid and antiseptic bottle in her hand.

“Woh Jiji, I was looking for-” Payal shot Khushi a look, and for the grace of her sister she did not mention the name of the man Khushi was clearly looking for.

For someone who had read Khushi since childhood, Payal Gupta found it no mystery who was the love of her darling sister’s life.

It was definitely not Khushi’s fiancé.

How had Khushi fallen for Arnav, it was beyond her. But Payal had said nothing, fearing that speaking about Khushi’s infatuation with Arnav would flame the fire Khushi’s heart.

So she feigned ignorance.

The rest of the family barely paid heed to Khushi anyway, they never saw her spending hours learning sugar free sweets in the kitchen. They never heard her whisper words in English to herself. They never realized how Khushi inserted Arnav Singh Raizada in every conversation.

“If he cared, he would’ve been here,” Payal emphasized, blowing at the injury on Khushi’s head. Khushi turned away in shame, her secret caught in the open.

She flinched at the sting of the antiseptic.

“He’s engaged.” Payal now whispered, afraid that the Goddess might punish her sister for a mistake her young heart made.

“It’s nothing like that,” Khushi denied the unsaid accusation. Payal could only smile sadly.

“You will be perceived as the other woman, regardless of context,” Payal advised, fixing the bandaid on Khushi's forehead.

“It’s nothing like that,” Khushi repeated, clenching her blanket.

“Khushi, one mistake cannot fix another.” Payal sighed. Her sister truly had the worst luck. Her options were either a doomed romance or a doomed marriage.

A tear rolled down Khushi’s cheek. She loved Arnav. It was a fact that she understood at her worst. He, his feelings, meant the world for her. She had to tell everything to Payal.

For once, Khushi did not want to hold all the burdens in her heart. God knows Khushi needed Payal’s guidance and help now more than ever.

“Jiji” Khushi froze as she saw the reflection on the window in front of her.

Payal didn’t have to look up to know who had been standing all along.

Arnav Singh Raizada

— — —

Lavanya watched Arnav return home, face crumpled in anguish. When she had returned from visiting Khushi earlier in the day, she thought the anguish on her face was a result of the accident.

But with the similar pain on Arnav’s face, she realized physical pain had little strength to heartache.

Her engagement was over before it even began.

It’s ironic that the closer she got to Arnav in societal recognition, the farther away he grew from her.

“Everything will be fine,” Arnav stopped short in his tracks, staring at Lavanya intertwine her hand with his, compassion on her face.

Will everything ever be fine? His world fell beneath his feet when he learned from Akash that Khushi was involved in an accident, and from the conversation between Payal and Khushi, his worst and best dreams came true.

He must be sadistic to feel relief that Khushi was just as miserable in her engagement as he.

The relief was just as strong as finding her safe and healthy.

And to be honest, he was glad her fiancé was not around when he stopped by. He could hardly be trusted these days.

Arnav looked at his own fiancee, and guilt settled in his heart. It was never about Lavanya, was it?

One look at Khushi in her bed, wounded, and he realized that this was the only woman he’d ever feel so intensely for, regardless of the context. So what was he promising Lavanya?

The life his mother lived?

“La,” Lavanya teared up as Arnav took her name far more affectionately than he had over the past few months. She savored and feared as he gently cupped her face, a flicker of tears in his own eyes as well.

Arnav felt a lump in his throat. It was a pity to realize he had been surrounded by the best of women despite being a terrible man.

There was a time where if asked who he could’ve spent a lifetime with, it would be Lavanya Kashyap.

“Arnav, please don’t,” Lavanya whispered. Let Arnav be guilty enough to at least give her a few days of affection before the doom she anticipated. For once he became the ASR she knew.

The one who took her to dates to the fanciest of restaurants, booking the cozy booths where he’d hear her endless frustrations of the press and terrible fashion trends with a barely there smile.

The one who grumbled at every gift she gave him, but had them delicately stored in some corner of his office - be it a paper weight or a Mont Blanc pen. The one who’d often stop by her place for a cup of coffee and an hour of silence as they heard Jazz. The one who’d indulge her when she’d drag to him to dance with her in her quiet apartment, the radio fading as she’d undo his tie while he pulled down the zipper of her dress.

“I am so sorry La,” He whispered, touching his forehead to hers.

“Fuck, they were right.” Lavanya whispered, glad to finally utter an expletive in this house. No one thought they’d last. Most viewed her as Arnav’s latest arm candy - but hell he barely had the time to date and she had believed, so strongly, that what she and Arnav shared was beyond the rumors.

Arnav looked at her in confusion, Lavanya smiled as a tear slipped through.

“The papers. They were right. Everyone was. And the problem is, I won’t be able to justify to anyone that I wasn’t a ‘phase’” Lavanya chuckled, being able to imagine the headlines. How wouldn’t she - marketing and PR was her speciality.

“Fuck the papers. You were a lot more. You are a lot more. It’s precisely why I can’t do this anymore.” Arnav said, wishing for once that he could’ve loved her for her sake.

“You love me La, you always have. I don’t know why, I don’t deserve it. You deserve far more, far better. And don’t mistake this as me making a choice for you. I’m just stating facts. And the thing is the only people who were right about this is, unfortunately, my family. Di knew I was doing this to prove Nani a point. I… fuck… La you can’t be a collateral damage to my feelings.” Arnav confessed, feeling the most defeated in his life.

He had never wanted to be like his father. He had never wanted to hurt another woman.

But just like his father he hurt the first woman who had loved him.

“I know. I know the minute you announced our engagement that you’re going to break up with me. I know you were proving a point” Arnav was surprised, just how much had Lavanya understood?

“The only thing I didn’t realize is who you were proving it to,” Lavanya concluded, stepping away from him.

“La,” Arnav sighed, “I never wanted to,”

“When are you going to tell her?” Lavanya cut him off, alarming him with her question,

Arnav closed his eyes in resignation, “there’s no her,”

“ASR, I’ve always respected you for being an honest man. Don’t change that.” Lavanya’s voice held rage for the first time.

She understood breakups, she did not understand stupidity. Just how many people was Arnav willing to sacrifice as collateral damage just because he could not understand his feelings? Hell, in no universe would Lavanya want Khushi to become the next victim.

“La, this is not the time. I cannot take you fixing my stuff when I’ve barely apologized.” Arnav stated, and he meant it. Khushi was not important right now.

“Oh I’ll make you apologize, don’t worry about it. After all you broke Lavanya Kashyap’s heart and more than that, your family made me wear terrible clothes ninety percent of the time,” Lavanya cracked a pained smile.

Arnav let out a hollow laugh, and held her hand.

“No, ASR, I am serious.” Lavanya pushed his hand aside, “You can’t keep sacrificing people left right and center because you can’t figure things out. You’re an adult, act like one. And don’t think about me because I will hold you accountable for how much you’ve hurt me. But right now, you’re against time. Because as far as I know her you can chase her after she’s married but she won’t break her marriage for you. She’s a good person ASR, a bit too good.” Lavanya said, fixing her face as the rest of the family set into the dining table.

Lavanya was right, no matter what he and Khushi were at this point, he had to be honest to both women.

But above all, he needed to have a serious chat with his family not just about his breakup but about how they’ve been grooming La all along. Yes, he enabled them, but he had to ensure that this could not happen again.

Wasn’t Payal having similar reservations to joining the Raizada family? Mami would give her worse than what Nani handed to Lavanya.

Granted, Akash was going to have a tougher time convincing his mother for a wedding now that Arnav was not getting married - but it was high time his younger cousin fought his own battles as well.

— — —

The family looked at Arnav as he sat at the first table, his face reserve. Devyani rejoiced at Arnav pulling the chair for Lavanya, passing her a smile. Manorama clapped as she watched Lavanya, in her older clothes, settle at the table. Finally, modern clothes were back at Shantivan.

Anjali, though, closed her eyes even before Arnav opened his mouth.

This was not going to be good.

— — —

This was not good, Garima concluded. This had to be Devi Maiyya’s signal that this relationship was not meant to be. First Shashi had a paralytic stroke, now Khushi was nearly saved from the jaws of death, and all these happened right around the corner of Khushi and Shyam’s engagement.

As a mother her heart trembled. She could feel her dead sister bore holes into her back every time Madhumati forced Khushi to accept Shyam as a suitor.

Garima had promised Khushi’s happiness to her dead sister.

Why was Khushi’s happiness not aligning to the one man who could bring stability to her life?

“Amma,” Garima broke from her chain of thoughts and assisted Khushi to the dining table.

“Arrey, you should’ve just called for me!” Garima admonished Khushi, fixing a warm shawl around Khushi’s shoulders. Was it just her or had Khushi grown older over the past few days?

Shyam wheeled Shashi to the dining table and sat next to Madhumati. Payal sat by Khushi’s side, nodding gently to her. What were the sisters thinking?

“I have something to tell you all.” Khushi said.

— — —

“What? Why?” Devyani cried, she had grown to love Miss Kashyap! Yes it took her time to understand that beneath the modernity she despised, was a heart of gold she had grown to love!

“Nani, I will say this for once and only once. Lavanya deserves a lot more than what I can give. I cannot subject her to what,” maa went though. Arnav broke off, the questions over the past half hour hitting his head. Anjali was hugging Lavanya, an angry ‘I told you so’ in her eyes.

For the first time Anjali acknowledged she failed as a sister, that she had not stepped into her mother’s shoes at all. And she made no lack in conveying so to her brother.

Arnav accepted all the blame.

Perhaps Nani was right that day, he was closer to his father than he thought.

— — —

“Jiji told me something that has just set itself in my heart.” Khushi began, her eyes misting.

“It is so important to look at who is with us when we’re going through our worst times. And with us, actively doing things to help us. That, is an indicator of a companion far more than any fantasy.” Khushi continued, her reality becoming clear as Shyam wiped the drool from Shashi’s mouth with the gentleness of a son.

He was unfazed when Shashi spit up the food onto Shyam’s sleeve. There was not a single trace of disgust on his handsome face. How did she never see this?

“Shyam ji,” Shyam looked at Khushi, stunned at the beauty of her soft smile, “I am so sorry.”

“Haye re Nandkisore!” Madhumati interrupted, fearing the worst. The girl couldn’t be thinking of breaking her engagement could she?

“I am so sorry for not seeing you,” Khushi apologized, tears flowing as her smile grew wider, “you have been there. Always. When I needed rescuing from the goons, when I needed a job, when Buaji needed help in this house, when Babuji faced a stroke. Devi Maiyya has been constantly showing me the truth but I was just unable to see it.” Khushi wiped her tears and shot him the biggest smile she had.

“So yes, to answer the question you had posed on the night you decorated my house as if the stars had been here." Khushi reminisced the day he gave her jalebis and promised her companionship. How could she have been so blind?

"Yes, I will marry you. Not for the sake of my father. Not for the sake of the society. Not for the sake of Buaji. But for myself.”

———————————————————

A/N: Yes, I am very evil. Enjoy :D

tagging: @shaonsim @zaphbeeblebrox @shiyaravi @chutkiandchotte @featheredclover @goals1024 @honeybellexox @darkchocolatestuff @charucoal @thedupattaknowswhatsup @bigfatreader @lostafpanda @exosexosekai @hi-this-is-permabanned @scorpio-smiles @noor1025 @minpdnim @laad-governess @barshifan @whateverworks21 @maansiloves @samuraisamsworld @dropsofserenity @myloveforstuff @leila1 @onadaanparindey @urwatueat @dimaagkadahi @ijustchangedmyname @australian-desi @muttonthings @eunoiabeyours @aye-masakalii (updating this list - lemme know who wants to be added/deleted)

#iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #ipkknd fanfic #jalebiwedsbluetooth #madari #heartbreak #arnavsinghraizada #khushi kumari gupta #arshi #ipkknd

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