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sheriiam · 1 year ago

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If You Will Have Me.

Pair: Ranveer Kashyap & Raghav Patil. Raghveer.

Word count: 4.7k words.

Fandom: Dancing on your Heartstrings. DOYH.

Setting: [right after chapter 15] Alternate universe where Raghav did not get into a fight with Ayush. (Tbh this ain't required you can put this in any timeline).

Dedicated to: my one and only tumblr best friend @a-really-hot-caterpillar

Raghav's pov

Raghav was waiting impatiently, tapping on the table with his nails. He had placed an order for chai 10 minutes back, and had called Ranveer 5 minutes before that.

No visible sign of either of the two.

He sighed and checked his phone and shot some quick texts to Ranveer. Ab aa bhi ja saale.

His heart thrummed at the idea of seeing Ranveer, of meeting the other at someplace outside the routine of their homes and dance studio. And for Raghav this was probably the worst place of all: a coffee shop. It was Ranveer who has recommended coming here. Mai jahan hoon uske kaafi paas hai, bas paanch minute mei I'll be there with you, he had said. Now Raghav was here, waiting since almost twenty minutes, waiting ki kab janab ke paanch minute khatam honge.

Well, at least his chai was here. He brought the newly brought steaming and took a sip. Ugh. Nothing like his mother's chai. Or Ranveer's mother's. Ranveer said it was the magic of mulethi. Nonsense. It was pure magic, regardless of the mulethi. As he drank his not-so-amazing-as-the-one-you-would-die-for chai, he wondered what Ranveer was doing in this area.

Raghav looked outside the cafe window. He could hear the annoying repetition of horns, and snippets of a blaring loud conversation between two men right outside. It was simple, loud, annoying yet very much full of life and vigor― so much like Ranveer.

Which brought him back to the question, what was Ranveer doing here?

Perhaps he came here to take college notes from a friend? Surely, they had missed a lot of classes owing to their dance practice. Or maybe he had to run an urgent errand? What could it be? Or― oh. Meet his... girlfriend? Um, of course he could, Ranveer was straight after all.

Raghav sighed and shook his leg. Shaant ho ja yaar. His feelings for Ranveer were definitely getting out of hand. "Kahan reh gaya ye―"

And cut. Words dried on Raghav's tongue tip as he heard the door to the cafe open and half-hopefully looked behind to see who had entered. He had done this thrice already, and everytime his eyes welcomed a stranger, but this boy in front of him... gods could he ever become a stranger to him? Even in the busiest of crowds with hundreds of people between them, Raghav felt certain he could find Ranveer if he had to.

He stared with wide eyes at Ranveer, who did not look how Raghav was used to seeing him. He was wearing a long, cream kurta and lousy flip flops, with a backpack slung on this shoulder which was― ye cham cham ki awaz kidhar se aa rahi hai? It took Raghav a second to realize Ranveer was probably carrying ghunghroo in his bag.

Okay so yes. Ghunghroo― and oh gods. As Ranveer came close and spotted Raghav, his eyes lit with cheerful recognition and he dashed to the table. That is when Raghav noticed the slightest hint of makeup on his face. Too subtle to notice, but too dangerous, fatally enticing, at the nearness they were sharing.

"Sorry," Ranveer said while taking deep breaths, "guruji se milke waqt ka pata hi nahi chalta."

Raghav looked at him breathlessly. Yes he had heard abour Ranveer's guruji― but the latter had said those days were left behind long back. Had he started taking lessons again? The thought of getting to see Ranveer with that tinge of makeup and alta― Oh. Alta.

Meanwhile Ranveer snapped his fingers to get him out of trance. And with a flinch, the sugar sachet kept next to him fell down. "I- I'll get it!" he stammered and bent down. Down there he smiled at himself for being such an idiot. Not because he dropped something, but because he did it intentionally. He picked up the sachet and gave a quick glance towards Ranveer's flip-flopped feet― and yes, they were lined in alta like his mother applied it during any festivity or fast.

"Did you fall asleep down there?" Ranveer asked from above. Raghav panicked, and in a hurry to get up hit his head with the corner of the table.

"Ouch ouch ouch!" he sat back and rubbed his head with his palm, his hair becoming a mess in the process.

"Let me see," Ranveer said with some seriousness and reached out from over the table and pressed with his fingers where he thought the injury was. Raghav winced but he let Ranveer's fingers linger in his hair locks. He turned red when he almost held Ranveer in place by the hand when the latter took his hand back. Almost. "Dhyaan rakhna chahiye na," he said, and oh his voice sounded so soft and concerned.

"Why are you dressed like... this?" Raghav asked, changing the topic. He couldn't handle so much in one go.

Ranveer laughed. "He wanted to meet me, I mean obviously. I don't remember a time when guruji wasn't fond of me," he said and smiled absentmindedly, looking at the table, "he runs a kala kendra nearby. Wahin bulaye the― bole senior ho, bacchon ko thora inspire bhi kar dena. To bas―" he gestured at himself― "that's why I look how I look. Man it's been a while when I had so many eyes fixed on me. It's weird, in a good way."

So when I have my eyes fixed on you, is that weird in a good way too? "Acha acha, isliye janab ko time lag gaya." And then Ranveer winked at him. He had the audacity to wink at him. Raghav wanted to wipe that cocky smile from his face, smudge his makeup a little― but Ranveer being the god-damn-divinity he was would still end up looking good.

Divine from head to toe.

Before Raghav had gathered enough wits to retaliate, Ranveer spoke up, and he said in the softest, most enchanting voices he had ever heard, "Kya dekh raha hai?"

Raghav's eyes widened. Oh shit. He was probably staring at him for long. He opened his mouth to justify himself, perhaps to even sarcastically flirt with him, when his world went black.

"Huh? Uh," he blabbered, feeling the hands covering his eyes. They were cold, and Raghav thought he felt a ring on one of the fingers. And he probably heard Ranveer call his name with some surprise in his voice, but that was just his imagination. Suddenly the person behind him shifted and the hands on his eyes slipped away. He looked around, blinking hard, and saw what sent his heart racing with absolute fear.

Oh no no no―

"Hi, Raghav," the girl in front of him said and gave him a hug tight enough that he could launch his internal organs from his mouth.

"H-hi Bhanu. Ouch." He pushed the girl to a little distance, and smiled at her. He then turned his head to look at Ranveer, who was visibly controlling his laughter at Raghav's comically fearful expression. "Um, Ranveer, this is Bhanu, mamaji ki beti."

The presence of another person got her attention and she left Raghav to finally breathe. "Yes, we're cousins―" she turned her head to look at this other boy. A moment passed and she hadn't spoken again. Very unlike her, Raghav thought and titled sideways to look at her. Uh-oh. Bhanu was looking at Ranveer, but the look betrayed mere acknowledgement. It was a moment too late that Raghav understood what was going on in his cousin's mind.

"Hi, I'm Bhanu," she said and offered her hand.

Ranveer gently took it. "Ranveer," he said, "nice to meet you."

She looked at him with sugary sweetness. "You boys don't mind if I join you?" Ranveer protested that there was no objection of such sorts and pulled the third chair of their table for her. Raghav mentally winced― Ranveer was sometimes awfully polite to strangers, to people he would probably never meet again. It made a remarkable impression, indeed, but this isn't what Raghav needed right now. He could already see a circle of cupid arrows and hearts rotating around his cousin's head.

He didn't have anything against Bhanu, but it was safe to say she wasn't his favourite cousin at all. She was an only child like him, but much much more spoiled. Always liked to have her way― clung awfully tight to whomever she liked. Sometimes he thought of her, and compared himself with her. How different was she, after all? He too, was used to having his way on many instances. He too, was clinging onto Ranveer and was adamant on not letting go. He looked at the two giggling a little, and he realized the present most important difference between them: Ranveer could never like Raghav. Bhanu, he could.

"So," Bhanu said and Raghav's world shifted to reality, "Raghav baat karta hai mere baare mei?"

Now, one must know that there's just one way to answer this question. So Raghav looked at Ranveer with slightly pleading eyes, and Ranveer gave him an almost invisible nod of the head.

He smiled charmingly. "Obviously he does― who could not talk about you?"

Okay this is a little overkill. But Bhanu blushed. She blushed, great. "Really? What does he say?"

Raghav blinked hard. If he ever had to speak about Bhanu, what would he say? That she repeated 6th standard? That she occasionally stubbed her toe due to the crooked alignment of her refrigerator? That she drooled when she slept? Oh no. This was bad.

Ranveer looked at him for a second before answering. "Well, all good things, of course. Like- like tum gaati kaafi acha ho."

Okay, Raghav needed Doraemon and his bamboo-copter. He looked timidly at Bhanu from the brim of his chai mug that he had lifted up to his face. The girl was looking at the two of them with absolute confusion etched on her face. "I... Mai gana nahi gaati, Ranveer."

Ranveer looked almost alarmed when he turned to Raghav, and the latter just nodded for confirmation. He had never really heard Bhanu sing, except for the one time he was passing by from near the bathroom at his uncle's place and his ears had caught her jamming to some Bollywood song in the shower.

But Ranveer just smiled at them. A smile that could reassure Raghav even in the darkest days that anything could get alright. He said, "You don't? That's really surprising, Bhanu. Your voice is rather melodious."

Bhanu looked at him with a smile creeping up her face. And so did Raghav, with wide unblinking eyes. Whatever Ranveer was saying, it sounded coming out of politeness― Raghav knew him that much― but it sounded so good compared to the silence Raghav had always received.

Raghav had always shyed from giving compliments, but with Ranveer he knew when not to hold back. ...It would make you a little mad if you only peeked inside my soul, he had told Ranveer once. But when had Ranveer given him the chance to look into his soul, to search for answers in the depths of those beautiful eyes of his. For all he could remember, Ranveer had never complimented him beyond the professional confines of their studio. Not like it mattered... but still.

Raghav broke his thought chain and blinked back the thin ice layer of tears forming in his eyes. God forbid if somewhere were to understand what he was feeling. Ranveer was straight god damn. He would never―

Nevermind. Raghav gulped down his tea in one go. It wasn't that great anyways. But when he kept the mug down, he looked at Ranveer once again and he knew it was doomsday. The boy was rummaging through his bagpack, and strands of his hair were falling right in front of him. He didn't even care to fix it, gods. Raghav was sure not to make a sound― it would be so weird if Ranveer was to raise his head and look at him looking at him like this.

But Ranveer just kept smiling as he fished out a pocket notebook and pen, and Raghav wondered what all this was about. Bhanu was whispering something to him, and they giggled at their shared inside secret. Ranveer gave the notebook to his cousin who wrote something on it with a smile. When Raghav caught a glimpse, he realized she had written down her number with her name and a heart next to it.

"You know phone mei bhi contacts save ho jaya karte hain?" Raghav asked him.

Ranveer looked at him with a little surprise on his face as if he had forgotten that the boy was even with them. Ouch. But he kept his smile intact and said, "Phone se delete ho gaya toh?" He pointed at his notebook, "Isse nahi hoga."

Raghav grumbled, "Pracheen kahin ka."

Bhanu smacked him on the arm, and her eyes said, Don't be mean to him. Ranveer tapped the table to get his attention. "But look at you, still loving me and constantly being in the company of this pracheen boy." He then turned to Bhanu and stage whispered, "Mere ek baar bulane par itni durr milne chala aaya." Bhanu giggled.

Only his subconscious could register than Ranveer was blushing. His mind, though, was focused on controlling his own face and ears from turning red. "Aisa kuch nahi hai," he stammered, "I was just nearby toh aa gaya."

Ranveer rested his chin on his hand. "Your ears turn so red when you lie."

Oh shit, was his blushing that noticeable? He brought his hand to his ear to check if it was warmer than usual when he heard the other chuckle.

"You fall everytime for this," he said with a fondness Raghav couldn't decipher. He pulled his hand away from his ear. That's how it is with you too, he thought, I mean not to fall but end up crashing down everytime you look at me like that.

Deciding that he needed some time alone, he got up and excused himself to go to the restroom.

"Arey naraz ho gaya kya?" Bhanu joked. And what did Ranveer do?

Raghav felt a hand encircle his wrist from behind, and a shiver ran through him. He turned to look at Ranveer titling at a dangerous angle from his chair to hold him. Raghav stepped closer so that he wouldn't fall from his chair. He gave him an inquiring look, to which Ranveer just gave him a puppy eye look and said, "Pakka gussa nahi ho na?"

Oh how could he? How could he be mad if Ranveer was to look at him like this and tear his flesh and suffocate his ribs from within? Raghav slowly shook his head and managed a smile. Ranveer smiled back with relief. "Jaate jaate counter par mere liye ek chai ka order de do, please?"

Raghav couldn't help but laugh. Oh, Ranveer and his chai. He shook his head again. "Tujhe pasand nahi aayegi. Aunty ki mulethi nahi hai isme."

He felt for a moment as if Ranveer's grip on his hand tightened. It made no sense but Raghav wanted to give into his delusions. He looked at his wrist and back at Ranveer, who just smiled fondly and wobbled his head. And then he let go of Raghav. Just like that.

This time Raghav didn't look behind or wait for anyone to say something and he rushed to the public restroom and waited till Ranveer had to pull him out of there.

Ranveer's pov

Okay, Bhanu seemed nice, but he was slowly getting bored of their conversation. He nodded at her as she asked him a question and then went on rambling about some distant relative of hers who was trying to set her up with her son.

As if Ranveer cared. He was trying to be nice to her― probably way too nice since she was Raghav's cousin― but that's it. He didn't care beyond that. She offered him her number, he didn't refuse. Because there's no polite way to refuse. And he wanted to be nice to her because, whether Raghav liked her or not, she surely meant something to him. And Ranveer didn't have anything but heart eyes for anything that Raghav was fond of.

Like their dance. That day when Raghav had barged into his room and told him that they could have the world on knees for the two of them, Ranveer knew he couldn't simply refuse Raghav. Because Raghav was right. But most importantly because it was what Raghav desired.

Everytime Raghav choreographed a new step or practised even during breaks to improve the ones they already had, it did something to Ranveer. There was a dedication in Raghav's eyes, an ability to move like water― easy and carefree. It created such a paradoxical platheora in Ranveer's head he would sometimes wake up till late night tossing and turning in his bed and think about Raghav's easy-going nature and the sternness of the spark of in him.

There was a fire in the boy, one which could burn Ranveer if he let him. And Ranveer would sooner or later find himself drinking that fire like the waters of Plegethon. He indulged in those flames and had them ingulf him more than once. Every time Raghav held him to correct his posture during dance practices, Lord it made him dizzy.

Ranveer realized he hadn't been hearing Bhanu since a long time and had absolutely no context of what she was speaking. But before he could do something about it his phone chimed and his screen went bright, showcasing a single notification.

Raghav: need help. come here.

Ranveer excused himself immediately, earning a surprised look from Bhanu, and rushed to Raghav. He found the restroom and when he closed the door behind him, he found Raghav standing and leaning on the long basin counter.

Ranveer walked upto him and kept a hand on his back. "Raghav? Tu theek hai?"

Raghav didn't budge, and for a long moment Ranveer felt his presence unacknowledged. But then he finally spoke, "Do you like her?"

Huh? "Bhanu? You mean her―" everything suddenly made a lot more sense to Ranveer, and it was as if he had finally realized why Raghav looked so down the entire time. "Shit man. No no, it's not like that. I didn't know you'd have something against the two of us being a thing or something, but trust me it's not like that―"

Raghav laughed. He fucking laughed at that, and it sounded a bit on the verge of hysterics. "Whatever care do I have for it, Ranveer? Who am I to stop you from dating whom you want?" He spoke a bit more softly now. "Even if it's my cousin. And no I don't mind it... you dating her, I mean. That's not what I mind. In fact I do not mind anything actually!" Raghav ran his hand through his hair and kept it on his face for a moment.

Ranveer just looked at his side profile. "Oh but, surely, you do mind something―" he tried to turn the other towards himself but he didn't oblige― "Raghav look here. You look ill, oh Lord. There is something you aren't telling me. Something that's eating you from inside. Is it... Is it the competition?"

And Raghav laughed again, but this time it sounded much more pained. He finally turned to face Ranveer. "Everything's about the competition to you, right?" he asked. "Every thing, Ranveer. All you speak of, all you think of is the competition. Is there anything for you beyond this? Beyond the competition and the girls who flock around you?"

Girls? "Raghav?" Ranveer held him by the shoulder, "Raghav what the hell is this all about? What- what are you saying?" He hated how teary and scared he sounded at the end.

Raghav was already fighting back tears by now, and Ranveer pretended not to notice them despite the tingling in his fingers to cup his face wipe them for him. "Do- do we... Do we mean nothing to you?"

Ranveer stared at him blankly. "Who is we ? You and who else?"

Ranveer looked at Raghav as he lifted his shaking hand and pointed at the space between them. Ranveer just stared at him witless, unable to comprehend the array of emotions he was feeling. Suddenly a lot of beautiful words in an even more beautiful voice danced in the space between his ears.

Us, Ranveer. Raghav had told him. Surprisingly at this moment Ranveer could only remember that one phrase and aage peeche kuch nahi. You are magic to behold, Ranveer Kashyap. So that's what it was about.

"Raghav?" Nothing else came out of his mouth no matter how he tried.

The other wiped his tears on his sleeve. "Yeah, yeah, I know. This whole thing sounds weird to know. It wouldn't have been so weird if I was one of the many pretty girls who swoon over you." Ranveer felt the air between them charging with electricity as Raghav stepped closer to him. "But I'm not. I'm just another guy for you. Your dance partner Raghav. Difference is that I am in fucking love with you. You aren't."

Ranveer looked at him for a whole minute, reading the lines on his forehead, noticing his eyelashes, staring at his lips― basically doing anything but trying to understand the significance of those words. But then it dawned on him. Raghav liked guys. And Raghav liked him.

Ranveer breathed in shakily, and a whiff of Raghav's cologne was present in the air. "Love is a very strong word, Raghav."

Raghav didn't meet his eye. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but then pressed it close, gulped, looked Ranveer in the eye one last time and dashed for the door.

Ranveer closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. What the hell was happening to him? "I don't love you Raghav," he called out behind him. When he heard the other stop moving, he turned to look at his back facing him, frozen. "I really don't. But heaven forbid if I haven't felt anything for you."

Raghav whipped his head back so fast it made Ranveer flinch. He didn't know what he was going to say, but he knew he had to make a move. Quick. "Raghav Patil," he whispered, "four syllables but they're enough to suck the air out of my lungs and make my ribcage collapse." He gulped when he felt his throat going dry. He walked upto Raghav. "If there's a flock of girls around me, then there's the whole campus talking about you. I hear it everyday, during my classes and outside them." He slowly took Raghav's hand in his own. "It hurts a little," he admitted.

There was a moment of silence between them. "Ranveer?" Raghav asked softly.

He looked up to find Raghav looking at him, his eyes urging him to lay his heart open in front of him once again. "I want to tell the world that you're mine. Not just as dance partners. I think I crave you a little more than that."

Ranveer sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't think I am in love with you yet Raghav, but I really, really, like you. And I want to―" words died on Ranveer's lips when Raghav pulled him by his kurta and kissed him. Ranveer's first instinct was to bolt the door right behind them, and then he leaned into the kiss, finding Raghav's lips softer than any carnation petal. "You do have a pretty mouth," he said, quoting a conversation they had had long back.

When they broke the kiss, Raghav said, "This pretty mouth has even prettier words for you." He took a moment to breath and they looked at each other― hair dishevelled, face all red, lips parted and beautiful― and started to shake silently with laughter.

Ranveer looked at him, shy as he had always been. "C- can we do that again?"

Raghav bit his lip and smiled. "I thought you'd never ask, classical boy." And then kissed again, grabbing whatever inch of fabric they could get hold of. Ranveer could feel his knees buckling up but he kept holding onto Raghav for dear life. "I'll make you fall in love with me if I must," Raghav said in between the kiss, "if you'd want that."

Ranveer smiled, encircling the other in his arms. "I'd want anything as long as it comes from you."

Raghav looked at him for a moment. "Even ruined makeup?" he asked.

Ranveer's eyes widened as he ran back to the mirror and stared in horror at his slightly smudged lip tint and ruined eyeliner. "I should have agreed when they offered me smudgeproof lipstick and waterproof eyeliner. Lekin, nahi, hum to gadhe hain." And he started to laugh.

Raghav joined him and took out his handkerchief. "Looks like we have something to fix."

They spent a few minutes looking a little more presentable― it wouldn't have taken this much time if they didn't keep getting distracted by each other and convince themselves for a few more kisses. Which was not enough, by the way.

When they unlocked the door, they found a couple people waiting outside impatiently. They gave a sheepish smile and Ranveer dragged Raghav out of there.

Bhanu turend around to look at them. She was standing. "I thought you guys got lost or something. Where were you?"

"There was a... uh, problem we had to solve. Yeah," Raghav said, and Ranveer nodded.

She looked at them, still questioning things, but she let it pass. "It's getting late, mai chalti hoon." She gave Raghav a hug and a kiss on the cheek to Ranveer. She didn't notice the look the boys gave each other. "I'd love to meet you again, Ranveer."

Ranveer smiled. "Sure, me too."

Bhanu kept her hand on his arm. "Maybe this weekend?"

Ranveer looked at Raghav, who looked as if he would be anywhere but here, witnessing his classical boy getting flirted with by his cousin. He turned back to her. "I will have to check, because I was thinking of taking my boyfriend on a date this weekend. Maybe after that?"

Ranveer prayed Bhanu didn't hear the snicker that escaped Raghav's lips. She looked as if someone had slapped her. "Boyfriend?" she asked with furrowed eyebrows.

Ranveer nodded, pressing his lips together to control his smile. Bhanu looked at him and then at Raghav, who just gave her an innocent look as if he didn't even know before now that Ranveer wasn't straight. Well it wasn't far from the truth after all, he thought.

Bhanu gave Ranveer one last look. "Don't hit on my cousin okay. He's straight," and with that she stormed out of the cafe.

Ranveer finally allowed himself to relax and laugh a little. "She's a concerned sister, Raghav."

Raghav nodded. "Too bad she's concerned for the wrong person." Raghav looked at him. "So, date this weekend huh?"

Ranveer took his hand. "With my boyfriend, yes."

Raghav looked at Ranveer's lips and the latter got the idea that he wanted to kiss Raghav the moment they got some alone time together. "I am not forgetting about this so you better plan something."

"Obviously I will, and I wouldn't want you to miss it," Ranveer said with a goofy smile, "you'd make a great third wheel."

"Huh? I'm hurt Ranveer Kashyap," Raghav placed a hand on his heart, "I thought you wanted to be with no one but me."

Ranveer pretended to think about this. "Haan, wo bhi sahi hai. But you aren't my boyfriend yet, you see." He hoped his voice sounded suggestive the way he wanted it to.

Raghav seemed to get the hint. "You want me to be your boyfriend?"

Ranveer looked out of the glass window and smiled as if he wasn't even aware of Raghav's presence. The presence which made him so joyful and content. "If you will have me."

Raghav kept a hand on Ranveer's and smiled.

Ranveer kept his other hand on Raghav's. "Well, in that case you wouldn't have to third wheel after all..."

#dancing on your heartstrings #raghav patil #ranveer kashyap #ranveer x raghav #DOYH

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drfabriclaundry · 10 months ago

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mostly-delusional · 3 years ago

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A Kanej diwali fic

"That's the third time you've tugged on your sleeve in the same minute and it's setting me on edge for no particular reason."

Kaz halted his movements, his right hand hanging in mid-air as he was about to fiddle with his sleeve, unrolling and rolling it again. He glanced at Jesper standing beside him and raised his eyebrows.

Jesper continued, "Honestly, Kaz, it's only been a month since you last saw her. It shouldn't be that hard. Besides, you're going to need a lung transplant soon enough if you keep panting like a dog."

Kaz was thoroughly annoyed. He had been occupying the same spot for what felt like hours with Jesper's continuous babble ringing in his ears. The black leather gloves that usually covered his hands were safely tucked away into the pocket of his jacket. Without them, he felt as if he was stripped naked, all his scars put on display for people to gawk at. His clothes were different from what he preferred wearing. The regular white shirt had been replaced by a plain black kurta with a pathan jacket resting above it, the collar of which prickled his neck. The cane's head felt cold under his palm. Everything felt too foreign, too loud and too wrong.

The glittering lights, lavish rugs and sophisticated folk of Ravka were far cry from the sordid streets of Ketterdam, where crimes were committed as effortlessly as breathing. Everything about the land Kaz stood on screamed of elegance and culture. It made him want to hop on a ship and dive back into the mayhem the Barrel had to offer.

Crossing the true see and visiting the land of Grisha hadn't been a choice. Two weeks ago, Kaz had entered his office in the crow club only to be greeted by an envelope sealed with the double eagle of Ravkan royalty. He had contemplated tossing it among the pile of documents he deemed unnecessary, but a blue geranium placed beside it had changed his original course of action. There had been no whispers of the Wraith being in Ketterdam, but it was not a surprise. Inej was like a phantom passing from one world to another, keeping away from notice.

Although, why she had been the one to deliver a message from the king of Ravka was still a mystery to him.

Kaz did not know what he had expected to be in the letter but it definitely wasn't what he had found upon opening it. Apparently, things were getting a little too boring for his royal highness and he felt the need to organise a little "get-together" for all those who had dedicated the previous months in fighting against the Darkling. As it turned out, nothing about the occasion was little.

A multitude of people occupied the halls of the Little Palace for what everyone around him kept calling Diwali. Kaz remembered Inej talking about how she celebrated the festival with her parents and cousins as a child. But that was all he could recall from the day because he'd been too busy trying to count the moles on her neck as she had sat on the window of his office, her head tipped back against the wall. The setting sun had casted a glow around her and Kaz had been unable to look away.

"Where's Wylan?" Kaz asked in hopes of avoiding another rant from Jesper about how exquisite the palace looked or how much money even a single gem from the chandelier hanging above would cost. "Why don't you go and trail after him like a lost puppy, as you usually do?"

Jesper puckered his face into a scowl, his lips forming a pout that made Kaz want to smack his face repeatedly. "You shouldn't be the one to talk about puppies seeing that you almost drool at the sight of Inej. Speaking of which, where is she?"

"If both of you would stop bickering like an old couple, you would have noticed that she entered the room five minutes ago."

Every single muscle in Kaz's body seemed to tense at Nina's words. His eyes scoured the crowd in desperate attempts of catching a glimpse of the one person he'd been dying to set his sight on.

"Let's give the old man some privacy to collect himself or he might drop dead any second." Kaz could practically feel the identical smirks playing on their lips as Nina dragged Jesper away by his arm.

But none of it seemed to matter because as soon as he saw Inej, it felt like someone pumped a gallon of blood through his heart all at once. The voices around him were muffled, separated by an invisible wall, casting him in a shell of peaceful silence as he looked at the girl who raged a storm in his heart ever since she had entered his life.

There, amidst the cacophony of colours formed by the crowd, Inej looked like a diamond shimmering among shards of glasses in a kaleidoscope. Her hair was like waves of pure earth. Half of it was braided over her head like a crown, the rest openly flowed down her back, softly reflecting the light from the chandelier above. His fingers itched to touch them.

She wore a long skirt which was a red as deep as the most luscious wines found only in the highest scale shops of the Lid. It pleated in a million different folds sure to hold a dozen knives, and fell from her waist in a cascading waterfall that brushed her ankles. The pleats danced along her legs as she waded through the sea of guests, occasionally nodding at those she recognised. It appeared as if she hadn’t yet noticed him standing at the border of the hall.

His heart screamed at him to call her name, to make her look at him, but walking under the glittering lights, it looked as if she had just stepped out of a children's storybook about Saints. Regardless of how ridiculous it sounded, he felt that she would disappear if he got close enough. Her eyes were set on her destination— Jesper, Nina and Wylan standing near a table piled with a variety of delicacies. A soft smile played on her lips as she looked at Jesper arguing with Nina about what was better— waffles or the sweets layed out in front of them.

Kaz wanted nothing more than to shield her from the rest of the world and reserve that smile solely for himself.

Stupid Jesper. Stupid Nina. “Let’s give him some privacy.” What was the point of leaving him alone when Inej didn’t even spare him a single glance?

A part of him wanted to march right up to their little group and place himself in the middle, but his stubborn mind willed him to stay put. He watched as they exchanged hugs and smiled at each other. He watched as Inej asked Jesper something and he spinned around to point right at Kaz’s face. He averted his eyes right in time and hurled curses at Jesper under his breath.

Every passing second seemed to escalate his heartbeat, as if both were trying to outdo each other. His heart hammered against it’s cage, threatening to break free from the restraints and bounce off onto the floor. Kaz could sense Inej’s firm gaze on him as the distance between them shortened with every step she took.

"Hello, Kaz."

Inej had come to stand right in the line of his sight so that he had nowhere else to look apart from her. And saints did he want to keep looking at her.

Kaz let his eyes take in every detail of her face. Her bronze skin had become an even deeper shade after all the time spent at the sea and he wanted nothing more than to cup her face in his hands, caress her cheeks and make sure she was real. Her eyes were lined with kohl and some kind of golden powder covered her lids.

In those brown eyes was the warmth of an everlasting hearth, the laughter of childhood memories, the pride for what she had accomplished in the last few months alone, and there was affection. The way she looked at him made him feel like a broken vase being mended by that gaze alone.

He knew he was supposed to say something to her. Tell her that she looked beautiful. That ever since she had stepped foot in this room—in his life— he had hardly been able to breathe. That if she had willed it, Kaz would have gladly gotten down on his knees and swore his devotion to the saints she now looked so alike. But his mouth and mind never seemed to coordinate.

"Didn't expect I'd see you here." A lie. The only reason Kaz had even considered being a part of the celebration was that he knew Inej was staying in Os Alta to spend some quality time with Nina and Matthias.

From the smile on her face, Kaz suspected she knew he was lying but to his immense relief, she decided to change the subject.

"The aarti is about to begin, let's go." She nodded towards the huge double doors opening into the sweeping grounds and the groups of people leaving through them.

"To my best knowledge, there isn't a temple in or around the Little Palace."

"There wasn't. King Nikolai got one built after Zoya insisted." Inej adjusted the golden dupatta pinned to the shoulder of her blouse so that it covered her palm. With her hand safely enveloped, she grabbed hold of Kaz's wrist and started heading towards where the temple was situated.

The warmth emanating from her palm seeped through the thin fabric and sent shivers up his arm. The water was at bay and the ringing in his ears did not echo as usual. He could do this.

They walked through the doors and out into the open air. Kaz took in a deep breath to calm his nerves. A few paces ahead, the rest of the crows were chattering amongst themselves. Jesper's arms were flailing around as he babbled on about something. Beside him, Wylan was having a hard time keeping up with the conversation and trying not to get hit. Nina and Matthias walked arm in arm, the latter jerking his head in every direction, trying to catch a glimpse of all the decor layed out all around. Every few seconds he would point at something and whisper to Nina who would launch into an explanation of whatever he had asked.

"How is Matthias adjusting to all of this?" Kaz shifted his gaze back to the path he was walking on. Inej's hand felt heavy around his wrist, and he wasn't sure whether he wanted her to let go or hold on tighter.

"Not as bad as you'd think. He kind of isolated himself during the first week and avoided all the grishas, except Nina, of course. But it didn't take him long in warming up to Tolya." Inej explained. "However, he still refuses to be in the same room as Zoya, says it'll take him longer to get used to her."

"I can agree on that," Kaz muttered bitterly under his breath. His mind reeled back to the time when he had to work alongside her in order to help Alina destroy the fold.

Inej snorted on hearing his grumbling. "She's not that bad! Once you gain her trust she can be charming."

"I have no intentions of finding that out."

••••••

The temple was built amid the towering trees past the lake, it's white marble glowing amber due to the countless diyas lit all around it. It sprawled among the woods in its beauty, as if the gods themselves had decided to take a day off and stroll among their mortal devotees.

Walking up the steps to the main praying area was almost peaceful and Kaz was struck by the sudden realisation that he wouldn't mind spending an hour or two sitting right here in solitude.

A soft melody drifted from a group of musicians seated beside the huge altar where statues of gods carved out of marble stood. Bells crafted out of bronze hung from the ceiling and the entire interior was lit with hundreds of glowing candles and iron lanterns. Garlands of marigold wreathed around the circular pillars. A priest took his spot at the front of the room as people piled inside.

As the aarti began, Kaz's attention shifted to the girl beside him. Inej had let go of his hand now, her own raised in front of her chest as she joined her plams together to pray. His wrist felt cold without her warmth and he wanted nothing more than to slide closer to her.

His attention was snatched away from her by the beginning of the aarti, but he did not intend to pay any attention to it, not with Inej standing with him. Not with her being the only person he felt like worshipping.

But Inej seemed to have an objection to his plans because she reached out to lift his hands up and join his palms together.

"I know this is the last place you'd like to be in, but it won't take long, I promise."

And how could he resist when she smiled at him like that? Like his mere presence at this occasion was the only source of her joy. So his own beliefs be damned. He would stand here with his hands joined, listening to the priest begin the aarti. He would stand here until his legs started shaking, until he couldn't bear to be upright anymore, as long as it made Inej happy.

Soon, the prayer came to a close and Inej whispered to him, "Close your eyes and make a wish."

"Wh—"

"Just do it."

He couldn't understand how his wishes would come true simply by closing his eyes and muttering what he wanted in his mind. That was not how things worked. But he did what was asked of him regardless of how ridiculous he found it.

Sounds of explosion began ringing from outside and Kaz froze in his spot, his mind automatically shifting into defence. He felt a hand grabbing hold of his arm.

"Relax, it's just the fireworks." Kaz opened his eyes only to find Inej looking at him in amusement, her eyes glinting with delight. With her hand still resting on his, she dragged him outside, her steps hurried and excited.

The sky was littered with colourful specks of gold and green and blue and colors he couldn't be bothered to name. Everyone gathered in the grounds, their heads tilted upwards as something rocketed towards the heavens, soon bursting into a myriad of sparks, casting tiny star-like dots in the open.

Once again, his eyes found her. Kaz's heart skipped a beat as he looked at Inej, her eyes reflecting the stars above. Strands of hair had gotten lose from the crown atop her head and were now swaying with the breeze. He reached out to tuck them behind her ear, his movements catching her attention.

They were close enough that he could see the deep brown of her eyes along with the twinkle of the fireworks reflecting in those orbs. Close enough to see the mole on the right side of her upper lip. Close enough to feel her breath on his face.

"Back in the temple, what did you wish for?" Inej asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

His lips twisted up to form a teasing smile. "To bury under a pile of millions of kruge."

Another lie, of course.

What he had wished was for Jesper to find a solution to his gambling addiction and learn to accept his grisha powers. For Wylan to restore his relationship with his mother and build a bright future for himself. For Nina to find peace with her new abilities, because he knew she was struggling. For Matthias to find a way to forgive himself for the actions of his past. For him to build a new life with Nina.

But most of all, he wished for Inej to make a place for herself in the world. For her to live a life where she didn't have to worry about the likes of Tante Heleen anymore. And for him to be worthy enough to be a part of that life.

Kaz was so lost in his own thoughts that he did not see Inej raising her dupatta and covering the lower half of his face. He didn't realise he had zoned out until he felt the warm press of her lips against his cheek. His mind became void of thoughts as he felt his stomach somersault in response. The water was still at bay and whispers of Jordie in his head were silenced.

He pressed his forehead to hers as they stood under the glittering night sky. They were enveloped in each other's presence, the rest of the world frozen in time as Inej tethered Kaz to reality.

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foolgobi65 · 5 years ago

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Bookstore AU, meet messy, “i know that it’s the thought that counts but this doesn’t even look like you thought about it.” - for Urmila/Lakshmana?

k this probably borrows from the characterizations of “sita’s sister” but since the focus isnt on sita and rama we can brush off their whole emotional arc and say it happened while they were getting to know each other, probably on some online forum for sherlock holmes fans or something. i’ve never actually written urmilla or lakshmana before, so you’ll have to tell me if the characterization works!! i think they’d mellow out after a bit, and bond over their shared slightly wicked senses of humor and protective instincts when said instincts arent leading them to clash with each other lol. thank you for the super fun prompt, i hope you like it!!!

---

Urmilla frowns. “These books don’t belong here!”

Technically, neither does Urmilla -- it’s her sister Sita who’s supposed to be meeting her internet friend/potential lover at the cafe attached to Sita’s favorite bookstore today, the only day Rama is apparently in Bombay before he has to fly back to America where he’s finishing up his MBA.

“I’m just saying it’s suspicious,” Urmilla had said, watching from her perch on Sita’s bed as Sita tried to find a pair of earrings that would suit the color top she was wearing. She reached for a pair of gold ones, but put them back when Urmilla wrinkled her nose and picked up a pair of silver jhumkas.

“It’s not suspicious at all,” Sita had responded. “He was only here a week, and spent those days with his family in Ayodhya. I’m just lucky we were able to find the time to meet at all after all these years.”

“That’s my point! You’ve known each other for years, and you expect me to believe that the first time he manages to find the time to see you in person is for a few hours on the way out? If he really loved you--”

“Urmilla!” Sita shrieked, dropping the jhumka she had been trying to thread through her left earlobe. “We’re just friends!”

Urmilla, noting the sky-blue kurta Sita had chosen to wear -- the one everyone had always told Sita made her complexion look particularly lovely -- had rolled her eyes. As always, Sita was too soft for this cold, cruel world and so it fell to Urmilla, her intrepid younger sister to stand watch against all those who would try to break her elder sister’s heart. Sita had told her that under no circumstances was Urmilla to observe her “meeting” with Rama, but Urmilla had only kissed Sita’s cheek goodbye and, a few minutes later, changed her top, put on her glasses, and rode her scooter to the bookshop.

“And how would you know?” a male voice asks in response to Urmilla’s earlier exclamation. He’s tall, Urmilla notes immediately, and handsome too -- but the expression on his face is slightly incredulous, as if he doesn’t believe that Urmilla could understand the mysteries of the library arts, and Urmilla feels the first tingling of rage at the base of her spine. She’s using a gap between books, the one she supposes the books he’s carrying are meant to fill, in order to spy on Rama and Sita sitting at the cafe table near the register, but, confident that Rama seems in no rush to do anything but stare across his coffee and smile at Sita like a dope, Urmilla turns to face her new adversary.

“Do you work here or something?” Why else would he be carrying the books, she thinks, but still she’s learning to verify her assumptions before flying off the handle.

He takes a step forward, setting the books on the edge of a random shelf. “And if I do?”

Urmilla huffs. “These books are sorted alphabetically, rather than first being grouped by genre.”

The man crosses his arms. “Genre can be subjective! And what if an author dabbles in more than one -- should I be spreading their work out throughout the store?”

“Yes,” Urmilla insists, plucking out a romance from next to a robot-fantasy. “I know it’s the thought that counts, but this doesn’t even look like you thought about it! When someone’s browsing for another romantic comedy after enjoying their last one so much, should they just be wandering the store reading spines and hoping for a title that speaks to them?”

The book leaves Urmilla’s hand, as the man flips it over and reads the back description. “Yes,” he says in return.

“If you really believe that,” Urmilla says, somehow even more aggravated when this handsome, stupid stranger’s attention is diverted, “then you’re shit at your job and you should probably be looking for a new career.”

For a moment, she wonders if she’s gone too far: the man looms tall, and briefly seems like he might be genuinely upset. Urmilla, like her sister, is of an average height for South Asian women and is at quite the disadvantage. Her left hand slips into her pocket where she keeps her keys, and the pocket knife attached.

Almost like he knows what she’s thinking, the anger fades from his expression and he takes a step back. Urmilla exhales, relaxing her grip.

“I don’t,” he admits sheepishly, “work here, I mean.” He hands her back the book. “I’ve spent the last few hours pretending I do so that I can keep an eye on my elder brother. He’s on a first date, but all of us brothers swear he’s been in love with the girl for years.”

Intrigued, Urmilla raises an eyebrow. The cafe is a famous spot for first dates amongst a particular set, so it’s not exactly extraordinary that there might be another younger sibling hidden in the stacks. “Friends from college?”

He snorts. “I wish. He’s never actually met the girl, but they’ve been chatting over the internet for god knows how long. At all hours of day and night too, smiling like an idiot while he types on his phone.”

Urmilla blinks. It can’t be... “Why haven’t they met?”

He shrugs. “As far as he’s told me, it’s partially because of her schedule and partially because of his. I think she was abroad when they first met, and then by the time she came back he got the offer to do his MBA in America. During the holidays, they’re both either working or with their families.”

Sita was in the UK two years ago, Urmilla thinks. And she was working in Calcutta all last summer, so busy that she couldn’t even spare time for Urmilla to come and visit for a day.

“Oh,” she says, realizing that this might be a golden opportunity. “And what type of man is your older brother? Has he had many girlfriends before this? Would he let his wife work after marriage? Does he watch porn from websites that don’t verify that the actors have safe working conditions?”

“What,” the man splutters, and yes the last question was probably a little too much. But still, Urmilla thinks, all of these are questions of vital importance when scoping out Sita’s potential boyfriend -- who thinks this is a date! Just friends, Urmilla’s ass!

“Would he let his wife work after marriage,” Urmilla tries again, deciding for now that she can save the question about his porn habits to ask Rama directly. Now that she thinks about it, Sita had mentioned that he had younger brothers. Pity that Urmilla had never asked Sita about their names.

“All three of our mothers work!” Rama’s brother exclaims, and Urmilla’s eyes widen in simultaneous shock, horror, and delight.

“Is your father a polygamist?!” she shrieks, probably smiling in the way Sita always says makes her look deranged. Urmilla just knew there was something wrong with Rama, who Sita always speaks about as if he could thread the constellations if he wanted. Oh, this is too good to keep on the inside. “I knew it!”

“No!” Rama’s brother bellows back, “Why would you say that?” Too late, Urmilla realizes that bookstores are supposed to be quiet places, where people don’t loudly question other people’s marital habits. When she turns to look back through the gap. Rama and Sita are gone.

“He wasn’t married to them all at once,” another man’s voice answers, and when Urmilla turns it is Rama who’s speaking, Sita at his side. Her face is flush as a beet, lips trying valiantly to turn down in a frown, but when Urmilla looks at her hand it is tangled up in Rama’s so Sita can’t possibly be that upset. Though there’s still the question of the father. Rama shrugs at Urmilla’s raised eyebrow. “He was just...unlucky in love, for a bit. But he’s been happily married for the last 20 years or so.”

“Third time’s the charm?” Urmilla never did get an answer about Rama’s previous relationships.

Rama smiles. “The second, actually. They broke up for about a year, and Father was....not quite at his best, perhaps.”

Urmilla scoffs, but when presented with an acceptable answer she has no choice but to concede. Sita’s presence prevents her from re-asking some of the more ...necessary but perhaps socially crass questions on Urmilla’s mind.

“Brother,” Rama’s brother demands, “why on earth are you even entertaining the accusations of this --” Before Urmilla can respond, Rama raises his hand, and immediately, miraculously, his brother falls silent. Point to Rama.

“For the same reason that you’ve been here hiding away from me since, I assume, the moment you dropped me off at 10 am.”

“Wait,” Sita interjects, “weren’t we supposed to meet at 12?” Rama blushes as Sita’s smile grows. “Were you really waiting for me all this time?”

“Yes, yes, he’s very sweet and was worried that he would be caught up in traffic,” Rama’s brother responds, brushing away Sita’s delight in favor of turning to Urmilla and glaring. “But that doesn’t answer my question. I was being a good brother and trying to make sure that your date went as planned.”

“And that required you poorly impersonate a shop assistant? Think about the amount of work you’ve created for the people who actually work here!”

“I didn’t want to be kicked out!”

“No one gets kicked out of a bookstore, you piece of--”

“Urmilla!”

Now it’s Rama’s brother’s turn to blink as if something has just occurred to him. “Brother,” he says slowly, “didn’t you say she had a sister? Ur-something.”

The only thing preventing Urmilla from slow-clapping in response is Rama’s gentle, ever-so-slightly put upon smile. “Urmilla,” he says, “might I have the honor of introducing you to my younger brother Lakshman?”

#ramayana #maya writes #lol it all works out for them after a few more meetings #i just wanted to write them both hot headed but with good hearts #especially since they both think their silbings are suckes #even though rama and sita are actually quite reasonable #glyphenthusiast

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ultra-maha-us · 4 years ago

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Most Fashionable Ethnic Wear for Joyous Situations

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Nothing may beat the stylish look that an embroidered kurta can produce for you. The great describing produces an additional aspect in your kurta and produces a advanced type statement. With respect to the occasion, you might like to go set for sequins and other embellishments in your embroidered kurta, or put the needed shine with the best accessories. You can select from different varieties of region-specific embroidery like bagh (Punjabi), chikan (Lucknow), kashida (Kashmir), kasuti (Karnataka) or Kantha (West Bengal and Orissa). Finally, it generally does not subject which type of embroidery you select for the kurta so long as you adorn it right. With this outfit, you're positive to enjoy a party of envious looks and plenty of special compliments.

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liraystylesuk · 4 years ago

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A Review Of Menswear near me

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