I forgot to add the link here, but I posted the prologue to my new story, Do Deewane. It’ll only be on India Forums- but I will have an open blog for it as soon as I finish. I hope you’ll join me in this story as well- thank you all for the wonderful response to Swayamvar!
Do Deewane: http://www.india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=4118586
“So Khushi, this is your first foray into directing. How did it go for you?”
“It’s a very different experience. Until now, I have spent my time either filming or writing. Directing has given me the opportunity to bring my words to life in my own way- Anyone that has ever read a book knows that each person visualizes a piece of writing differently. I get to pick actors as I’ve visualized them, and that’s a very unique experience.”
“Harsh Truths has been an unprecedented success. Short films generally don’t garner much attention, but your films always capture the interest with their very… real and relatable storylines. How do you bring that feeling to your writing?”
“I think its important to keep in mind that in the end, the goal is to connect with the audience. It’s not so much the story as it is the characters. In order for the audience to empathize and connect with them, the characters have to react realistically, and that is what I attempt to do whenever I write.”
“Your first short film, in collaboration with Shaan, had a… bittersweet ending. Most audiences want that happily-ever-after- how do you balance the two?”
“It’s important to note that bittersweet also includes the sweet. Too often, people forget that not everyone works out all the time. Sometimes, people are better apart- and that’s what happened in that story. The two characters just were not in the right place, and at that time- it wasn’t right for them to be together. That’s a happy ending, even though it may not be conventional, because they are happier apart.”
“Has your real life influenced that idea?”
“… I think it has. I’ve always been a little cynical, but I think my own experiences have truly proven to me that sometimes, people are better apart. Whether it’s permanent or for a short while, taking a break can truly be helpful to a relationship.”
“Speaking of relationships- there’s an elegant solitaire diamond on your ring finger. Is there some news you need to share?”
“(laughs) Is that a not-very-subtle way of asking about my recent marriage?”
“Marriage?!”
“Yes, Arnav and I had a small, court wedding about a month ago. As you know, we like to keep our public lives separate from our private. With all the drama that happens at Indian weddings, who knew if it would even happen? (laughs)”
“A court wedding? (laughs) How did that go over with your families?”
“Ah, well, they tried and failed to convince us to invite 500 relatives we’ve never seen. But Arnav and I were insistent. Marriage should be between the couple and a handful of people that truly matter. Both Arnav and I believe that very strongly.”
“Well, congratulations, Mrs. Raizada! On behalf of everyone, I would like to wish you a very happy married life. As always, it was a pleasure talking to you. Khushi’s new film, Harsh Truths, is in theaters now.”
“Thank you, Anisha.”
“Never would have happened? Is this a veiled statement about how much you hate being married to me?”
Arnav gives me a mock horrified look, and I lean over to press a kiss to his cheek.
“Please, the only reason I married you is because you’re an amazing cook. And because you’re rich.”
“Not for my skill in the bedroom?”
“Arnav!”
“What? We’re in the privacy of our own apartment. You’re my wife. I can be as dirty as I want to be.”
I snatch his plate out of his hands, rolling my eyes as he chuckles behind me.
If someone asked me four years ago whether I would be happily married, I would have laughed.
Arnav and I remained close friends for nearly a year after I approached him after “The Final Rose”, and our mutual decision to start off platonic was one of the best we’ve made.
While the passion was still overwhelmingly there, forcing ourselves to build up our friendship set up a much stronger relationship.
While we had talked a lot during our initial fling, being friends allowed us to get to know each other as people, beyond a relationship. We couldn’t divert important topics with sex, and that lesson has been valuable to our relationship as a whole.
There’s something to be said about letting out repressed sexual tension as well.
I blush as I recall the memory of when we finally decided to take the next step.
We had simply been sitting on his couch, talking, when Arnav had stopped mid-sentence. I still remember his next words, and the memory never fails to bring the aching desire between my legs.
“I want you. Fuck, I need you, Khushi Kumari Gupta. But since you said I have to ask you out before we have sex, I’ll give you exactly three seconds to answer this question before I rip of your clothes and take you right here. Go out with me.”
“That’s not a ques- mmph!”
He hadn’t waited, threading his fingers through my hair and pushing me back onto the couch. His kisses were bruising, desperate as he nipped at my lips over and over. I had given in without hesitation, a strangled moan escaping me as he began swirling his tongue at the base of my neck.
He fumbled with the buttons on my shirt, groaning in frustration as my bra refused to come undone. When he finally got it off, he tossed it into a corner, suckling gently on my breasts and making me mindless with desire.
He pressed hot, wet kisses down my stomach as he unbuttoned my jeans. I had kicked them off eagerly, and his eyes seared through me as he stared at me with hazy eyes.
“Fuck Khushi, you’re going to kill me.”
I had blushed as he tugged off his own jeans. I had had a feeling of anticipation that night, and consciously had chosen not to wear any underwear.
He leaned over me, straddling me as his lips hovered above mine.
“I’m going to take you now, and I’m not messing around. I’ve had enough of this waiting. I’m going to make you sore tomorrow, and make sure that the neighbors can hear you begging for more.”
He thrust into me in one, sharp thrust, and just as he wanted, I had let out a keening cry. He was relentless, bringing me to the edge with long, deep thrusts that had my head spiraling in minutes. He had collapsed against me shortly after, smirking in satisfaction.
“I’m just going to take that as a yes.”
“You’re remembering the night I fu-”
“Language.”
“-cked you senseless, aren’t you? I think the neighbors woke up with that one.”
“You have no neighbors, genius. You live in a penthouse.”
“Ah, well, the people below us had to have heard something with how much I made you-”
“I certainly hope the floors aren’t that thin. Or we’re in some serious trouble here.”
“I’m not the one who has a habit of being… vocal.”
“Really? Because I seem to remember this one time during AR’s annual conference when-”
“Khushi Kumari Gupta, are you goading me into having kitchen sex?”
“I’m hardly kumari anymore, am I?”
“You’re not a Gupta either.”
“And I regret it everyday.”
He gives me a smoldering look, lifting me up onto the counter in a fluid move, groaning softly.
“God, you’re heavy. How much weight have you put on?”
“You’re mean. If you’re trying to seduce me, it’s not working.”
“I don’t need to seduce you to get you into my bed, Khushi. Besides, I rather like your curves.”
He winks at me, sliding his hand underneath the hem of my tshirt, making my eyes flutter shut as I lean into his touch. He takes my lips in a soft kiss, and I pull him closer, deepening it.
We finally separate, and I reach to pull off my glasses as he begins to unbutton my shirt. His hand stops me, and I look up at him, confused. He shakes his head, a slight smile quirking up the corner of his lips.
“Leave those on. You look sexy in them… Chashmish.”
***
Note: And that’s where I will leave you with this story! I have to say that I’m incredibly, incredibly sad to let it go- it’s been an absolute pleasure to write, and even though I’ve always planned to end it here- I can’t believe it’s already over.
I would like to sincerely thank Luna, for giving me the idea to write this.
Also deserving a huge, huge thanks is Semanti- who has put up with my theorizing and has helped me edit so many times, despite her own busy schedule. These characters are sensible largely thanks to you and your always insightful critique. Thank you, as always!
Another thanks to my friend, D, who puts up with my fangirling in asli duniya, and never fails to have a sarcastic retort and an eyeroll. She’s also never afraid to kick me, so thanks for the bruises too. I didn’t capitalize after ellipses, so spare me this time please.
To Rith, thank you for being an awesome friend- Arnav’s strawberry chapstick will always thank you, ya? (and I guess… I thank you as well). But really, thank you so much for always listening to my babbles and such. You’re a wonderful person!
I do have another story on the line, and I will post a teaser from the prologue below. I’ll also post a link to the IF thread when it is up on this blog. I hope you will join me for that one as well, which I will post only on India Forums- however, I will open a blog for it once I’m finished.
***
Do Deewane: Small Excerpt from the Prologue
His eyes lingered on her legs, and he was jolted out of his… study by her shifting in her seat. He quickly brought his eyes back up, and caught a glimpse of her hand.
A glinting, diamond ring rested on her finger, and he watched as she turned it slightly with her thumb.
Damn it.
She was engaged.
***
Anyone who doesn’t have an IF account that wants to read is free to tweet me @ipkchotidesi or email me at thechotidesi@gmail.com.
Thank you, to the most important people- the people who take the time to read. Thank you for always being wonderful readers. I thoroughly enjoy your comments, and writing would not be the same without your support.
Until next time and love always,
Choti
Note: This is the actual chapter eleven, in case you noticed my whoopsies when I posted the last chapter.
***
I tentatively push open the door, wincing as it creaks.
“Khushi? Is that you?”
“Haan, Amma, it’s me.”
She takes off her reading glasses, immediately walking into the kitchen to fix me something to eat.
“Amma, I just ate-”
“Haan haan, I know what you must have had. Woh Chinese khana hai na,‘fuzz’ ke saath.”
I fall silent, since she’s right. She expertly rolls out a roti, perfectly circular, and then tosses it onto the scalding tava. My mouth waters as the warm, cooked roti falls on my plate, with dark brown spots that aren’t quite burned through.
“Amla, nimboo, ya aam ka achaar?”
“All three.”
She glares at me reproachfully before putting three dollops of each achaar onto my plate.
I rip a piece of roti off, letting it melt in my mouth. I savor the taste of the spicy achaar with the soft roti, licking my fingers clean.
“What did you want to talk about, bitiya?”
I pause, keeping my plate off to the side as I finish the last bit of roti. I’m always amazed at how perceptive my mother is, and today is no exception.
“Woh… Can we wait until Bauji gets back?”
She nods, before handing me the soap and a sponge.
“Now that you’re here, you might as well wash the dishes for me.”
I groan, glaring at her. She smiles serenely, gesturing for me to begin. We talk about everything as we wait, and she doesn’t once attempt to talk to me about my relationship with my father.
It’s a testament to how things have changed, and she too has seen the difference in our relationship. It feels good to talk to my mother without tiptoeing around awkward topics, and I realize just how much I’ve missed having her around.
“Khushi… can I ask you something?”
I still at the tone of her voice, not liking the uncertainty it has. Taking a deep breath, I realize I should give her the benefit of the doubt before I jump to conclusions, and I nod for her to continue.
“Woh… the man you were talking to the night of your movie premiere. Who is he?”
“NK?”
“No, no, I know him. The man you talked to after you talked to NK and that… hand-waving guy.”
“Arnav?”
My mom hesitates for a second, and then nods. Her eyes are questioning as they search my face, looking for something.
“Yes, him. He was in your class, right? He called you… what was it… chashmish.”
“He did.”
I keep my voice purposefully light, trying to avoid the topic I know my mother wants me to address.
She sighs heavily, clearly giving up on me broaching the topic.
“Bitiya, is there something between-”
“Khushi?”
My dad appears in the doorway, holding his laptop bag from work. Amma glances between the two of us, before silently taking his bag and giving us some space.
“Beta, kuch hua kya? Sab theekh toh hai?”
His eyes cloud over in worry, searching my face. I smile reassuringly, and he immediately relaxes, giving me a slight smile.
“Woh, Papa, actually… do you remember when you offered to give me money to use for my career?”
He nods slightly, and I can see immediately that he’s apprehensive of what I’m going to say next.
I can’t blame him, especially with the way I had acted with him at that time.
“I was wondering… is that offer still open?”
I meet my father’s surprised gaze directly, forcing myself to hold it. It’s not easy asking him for money, especially when I was undeservingly harsh with him the last time he offered.
“I know… I know I don’t deserve it, especially after the way I responded the last time you offered. Now, I can see that you only wanted to help, and I reacted immaturely. I would like to finance a short film, and… I need money for that. I promise I’ll pay you back with interest- we can work that out. I would go to the bank but…”
He looks at me for a long moment, considering what I’ve said. I begin to wonder whether this was a mistake- I shouldn’t be asking my parents for money… what if he-
“The offer is still open, Khushi. You’re my daughter, and you can always come to me for help. I didn’t act well either, and in hindsight, I should have made more of an attempt to understand your situation. But as of today, it is all water under the bridge. It’s time for us to move forward- how about we discuss this over dinner?”
I smile gratefully and give my father a tight hug, knowing that the tentative truce we had is now permanent.
As I leave later that night, my mom holds me back for a second, giving me a surprisingly long hug.
“Bitiya, you’ve done well. I’m proud of you, but I want you to be happy too. Don’t punish yourself forever for mistakes you’ve made. It’s not a good way to live. And you’ll get wrinkles early.”
I roll my eyes, placing a quick kiss on her cheek before shutting the door. But I don’t miss the double meaning behind her words, and I realize that my mom knows more about my situation with Arnav than she’s let on.
My parents are right- it is time to move on.
But that’s easier said than done.
***
“I love Piya, but I have to say it is nice to get out for a while.”
Payal reaches over and grabs a slice of pizza, settling next to me on the couch. She looks exhausted, with dark circles around her eyes, but happy.
“Akash is a great guy for letting you off the hook so easily.”
“It’s the least he can do for all the times I let him go out on ‘guys night’.”
She grins mischievously, dipping a breadstick into tomato sauce and taking a large bite.
“Speaking of good guys… What’s the deal with Bachelor boy?”
“He’s probably not a Bachelor anymore. The last episode aired last week, didn’t it? And nothing is the deal. I apologized, he accepted, it’s done.”
“Wait- what do you mean, he’s not a bachelor? Didn’t you watch the episode?”
I pause, glancing up at Payal.
“No. I figured he proposed to someone- that’s how they always end it, final rose and all.”
“Khushi, he didn’t propose to anyone, or agree to continue a relationship . He said he wasn’t ready for marriage or a serious relationship.”
This new piece of information shocks me. I’ve purposefully kept away from news of the Bachelor, not wanting to dredge up my feelings again.
I thought Arnav would have proposed, or at least continued a relationship.
Why didn’t he?
Payal looks at me in disbelief, before reaching for the remote. She flicks through the channels, and stops when Shyam’s face lights up the screen.
“Good evening! We are so happy to present to you LIVE, our exclusive, After the Final Rose interviews! I’ll be your host for tonight, the fabulous, amazing Shyam Jha, and with me are the two finalists- Puja and Lavanya… And the sexy, hot Bachelor himself!”
“Namaste, Shyamji.”
“Hi Shyam.”
“Pleasure.”
“It certainly is.”
Shyam tosses Arnav a naughty wink, and I can vaguely hear NK cursing in the background.
“So, let’s begin simple. What have you three been up to in the days since the final rose?”
“Um, uh, I have b-been doing puja and keeping vrat. I say Vishnu Sahasranamam every single day.”
“I’ve been modeling, the usual.”
“AR Corporations has kept me busy. The acquisition of Triangle Plus has forced us to make some tough choices in recent months, especially as the economy takes a turn for the worse. Thankfully, we’ve managed to keep our layoff-“
“As hot as you sound talking about AR, let’s get to the real business at hand. Here’s the question everyone wants the answer to- what really happened in the fantasy suite?”
“Isn’t that supposed to stay off camera?”
Arnav clearly looks discomforted, despite his blasé retort.
“Please sweetheart, we want to know. We’ve been following your quest for love for so long, you can’t deny us this!”
“Arnav told me that he wasn’t going to propose or continue a relationship because he didn’t see us going anywhere. He said that… he was attracted to someone else, and that he was sorry he hadn’t come clean sooner.”
Lavanya suddenly interrupts, cutting off any further waffling from Arnav. I don’t miss the sharp glare he throws her way, or the slight clench of his jaw.
He clearly had not meant for that to be revealed on live television.
I ignore the questions burning in the back of my mind, forcing myself to focus on the interview instead.
“Th-that’s what h-he said to m-me too!”
“Someone else?! Arnav, you didn’t mention this!”
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t exactly public knowledge.”
Arnav’s tone is wry, and I can hear his clear displeasure behind his voice.
“Alright, alright, we won’t probe. But we have to know- is this “someone” still in your life today?”
There is an awkward pause as Arnav shifts his feet, trying to think of a diplomatic answer.
I lean forward, his soft mumble forcing me to strain to hear.
“We’re… taking some time to examine our priorities.”
It’s an honest answer, but the deep pit in my stomach only seems to grow larger. I realize that subconsciously, I had been hoping he would… say something different.
“You want to talk about that?”
Payal mutes the TV, turning to me. I fidget, knowing that I won’t be able to avoid this conversation.
“I was listening, you know.”
“Taking time off to examine our priorities?”
She ignores my statement, ploughing on.
“Look Khushi, I know things didn’t end well on the relationship front between you. But the look on your face tells me that you were expecting a different answer than what he gave. Why?”
“Why?”
“If it is really over as you have said, and that apologies are done and everything is fine and dandy, you wouldn’t have that look on your face.”
“Did you really just say fine and dandy?”
“Khushi, stop avoiding the topic.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
She simply looks at me, refusing to let me out of this.
“Payal, it’s done. I thanked him for all he’s done for me, and now we’ve gone our separate ways.”
“That’s it? You don’t want to be friends? What about your relationship?”
“What about our relationship?”
She rolls her eyes, clearly exasperated.
“Don’t play dumb. You were happy with him. The sex was great, you two got along well. Why are you giving up?”
“Because I don’t deserve it, okay? I wasn’t ready to be in a relationship, and I don’t think I’m ready now.”
“Fine, forget relationship. You don’t want to be friends? You said you liked hearing his perspective, that he’s interesting to talk to.”
“I don’t think he wants to be friends with me, Payal. And that’s fine. I don’t want to get into this.”
She shakes her head, her mouth set into a straight line.
“No, Khushi. You’re just being timid, again. You’re expecting everything to fall into place on its own, instead of making it fall into place. After all that’s happened, I would think you would have learned this. I guess I was wrong.”
With that, she walks into the kitchen, leaving me with my thoughts.
Her statement hurts, but I know that she’s right. I am being timid, and I do want him to make the first move.
But… maybe that’s not what we need right now.
I want to be friends, to be able to talk to him about everything. I recall our easy conversations, and his brutal honesty that forces me to take another look.
Unwittingly, the memory of the tender, passionate sex between us comes into my mind, and I immediately feel the goosebumps erupt on my arms.
Six months later, and that memory still makes me shiver.
I let the thoughts sink in, finishing off the last bit of my crust. I can hear Payal washing her plate in the background, talking softly to Akash on the phone as she does so.
“Payal, I’ll be back. I have to do something.”
I don’t hear her response, slipping on my shoes and running out of the door.
***
I ring the doorbell twice, before realizing I have no idea what I’m going to say. I swear underneath my breath, cursing my lack of planning, and turn to leave.
“Khushi?”
He’s standing in the doorway, wearing dark, worn jeans and a maroon button down. I can smell the scent of his aftershave, and I swallow thickly, attempting to control the sharp pang of desire that shoots through me.
“Arnav. Hi.”
We stand in his doorway for an awkward minute, just looking at each other.
“You want to… come in, or something?”
“I saw After the Final Rose.”
The statement is out before I can stop it, but he doesn’t react. He’s just as aloof as he was earlier, and he leans against the frame, regarding me with a shuttered expression.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. You… uh… Didn’t propose.”
“I didn’t.”
“Or propose a relationship.”
“I didn’t.”
“Because you, uh, weren’t ready for a serious one.”
“I believe that is what I said.”
“And you told Lavanya vaguely about us. And you said we were taking time to examine our priorities.”
He stiffens slightly, but doesn’t give anything away, only nodding.
“And, uh, what does that mean?”
He cocks his head, an amused smirk curving his lips.
“It means that we are not currently dating, but we haven’t ruled that option out yet either.”
My eyes snap up to his, and I take in a shuddering breath.
“So we’re… on a break?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“In the Ross Rachel sense?”
“Did you really just make a Friends reference?”
“Hey! Friends is a great TV show.”
He smiles at me, before becoming serious again.
“If you’re asking whether I am also interested in another woman and have slept with her, the answer is no. I haven’t had time, and I didn’t want to end up with a Ross Rachel situation on my hands.”
He says dryly, running a hand through his wet hair.
“I… I want to start over. As… friends.”
“Friends?”
“I think… I think everything moved too quickly last time, and I would like some time to get to know each other just as friends. And maybe this time, you’ll actually ask me out before we have sex.”
“If I recall, you threw yourself at me.”
“What bull! I did not throw myself at you!”
I can see him restraining his laughter, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes seem warmer, and I see a hint of a smile curve up his lips.
“Arnav Singh Raizada.”
He sticks out his hand, and I pause a moment.
Taking a deep breath, I place my hand in his and give it a firm shake.
“Khushi Kumari Gupta. We were… classmates, weren’t we?”
***
Epilogue has been posted directly above this.
Six Months Later
I step behind the cameras, watching as the actors step close to each other on the screen. Their eyes light up in recognition as they grasp each other’s hands in a firm handshake, staring at each other in barely concealed surprise.
“Andrew…”
He shakes his head in disbelief, as if he can’t believe she’s standing there in front of him.
“Maya… Wh- What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I- I’m here with…”
She turns, her eyes filling with hurt as she glances over his shoulder to see the girl standing behind him, talking animatedly to the street vendor.
There is an awkward silence as the two former lovers stare at each other, regret in their eyes.
If only things had been different.
Maya smiles, clearly attempting to mask the pain.
“Maya, I wish… I wish I could change it. If I had known, then…”
“If you had known, a lot would be different, Andrew. But you didn’t, and now…”
There’s a poignant pause, before they sigh heavily, lost in old memories.
“I- I should go. It was nice seeing you.”
Maya sticks out her hand, willing him to respond. He hesitates for a split second, before placing his own hand in hers and giving it a firm shake.
“Good luck with her, and with everything.”
Andrew smiles as Maya walks away, her shoulder slumped slightly as she makes her way down the street. He looks after her disappearing figure for a minute, a melancholic longing in his eyes.
“Ready to go?”
He glances down, looking at the smaller girl with the curly hair and bright blue eyes. Slipping his hand into hers, he nods, turning away from Maya’s disappearing figure and resuming an animated conversation with her.
For the first time in years, there was no aching pain. Only simple acceptance, and a tentative friendship remains as Andrew glances back one last time, before smiling softly at the girl beside him.
Sometimes… People are better apart.
“Cut! That’s a wrap, everyone!”
I stand on the side, watching as the actors playing Andrew, Maya, and Andrew’s girlfriend drop their characters and walk off the sets.
I’m absolutely thrilled with the way my short film has turned out. The ending scene is something I’ve envisioned since I put the words on paper, and the actors have done a wonderful job of depicting the bittersweet acceptance of a lost love.
I step back into the shadows, simply relishing the moment of having finished my first ever production.
It’s an elation I can’t describe in words, and I find myself blinking back happy tears as I take in the scene in front of me. The chance to do this film has been a dream come true for me, and I’m still struggling to believe that it’s actually happening, despite the fact that it’s been six, long months of grueling work.
The film itself is only 15 minutes long, but the work that has gone into it numbers in hours. The time we’ve spent reworking the script, casting, and filming has been absolutely exhausting on me.
But it’s a good, satisfying exhausting. Even though I collapse into bed night after night, completely drained, I’m content. I get to do what I’ve always dreamed of, and for once, I can honestly say that I love my job.
It hasn’t been without its own difficulties though.
I wince, recalling the nearly 2 hour long argument I had with Shaan, who insisted that the ending should be happier. I had won out in the end, but only after a long discussion that ended with him giving in conditionally.
If he liked it after fming, the ending would stay. If not, we would have to change it.
After watching the final scene being filmed, I know almost intuitively that my ending will get to stay.
“I have to say Khushi, that ending is painful, but perfect for this script. You were right.”
I smile as I take a sip of the champagne Shaan hands me, savoring the bubbly liquid.
“Thank you. I’m glad you finally have faith in my knowledge of the characters I created.”
He laughs aloud, tilting his glass slightly in a salute.
“How very modest of you.”
“I’ve been told that modesty is my finest trait.”
We stand in companionable silence for nearly ten minutes, hiding from the commotion going on within the comfort of the shadows.
Shaan has become a dear mentor to me, and I’ve formed a great bond with him. We tend to disagree plot wise, with him being consistently optimistic and my pessimistic attitudes, but the result has been nothing short of phenomenal.
We’ve combined our differing personalities to create something that has an equal balance of both, and I find that I’m satisfied with the product.
“You know Khushi, I have to hand it to Arnav. The man has always had an eye for talent, and while you’re still a little rough, you have great potential.”
I smile uncomfortably at the mention of Arnav, trying to ignore the guilt gnawing at my stomach.
All of this… is thanks to him.
If he hadn’t had enough faith in me to urge Shaan to consider me, I would still be broke and filming trashy TV.
I can’t help but feel guilty at the way I left our relationship.
I know I owe him an apology, but I can’t muster up the courage to go knock on his door.
***
“Khushi bitiya, filming is done?”
“Yes, Amma, it finished today. Could you pass some of those jalebies please?”
My mother sends me a disapproving look as she breaks it in half, earning an irritated look from me.
“Don’t give me that look. Your husband will run away if you eat that much.”
“Mummy, I’m not married. And it’s not happening any time soon. Might as well enjoy myself.”
I wrap my arms around her waist, ignoring her squirming and planting a loud kiss on her cheek.
“Khushi, leave your mother alone.”
I immediately drop my hands to my waist at the sound of my father’s voice, deep and serious. I turn around, expecting to get reprimanded for acting like an eight year old.
Even at the age of 28, my dad can make me still with one disapproving glance.
To my surprise, there is merely a glint of amusement in his eyes, and a small quirk at the corner of his lips. He walks up to me, giving me an awkward half hug and placing a kiss on the top of my head as he used to do when I was younger.
“I’m proud of you, beta. When do we get to see it?”
“The first screening to a select audience is in a month, and I have tickets. Will you come?”
There’s a silence that seems to stretch endlessly as I await my father’s response, fiddling with my fingers.
Our relationship has improved dramatically over the past six months, but it’s no where near what it was like before. We tiptoe around each other, as if… we’re afraid that something will upset our relationship again.
“Of course we’ll be there, bitiya. It’s your first shot on the big screen.”
A wide grin breaks my face, and I blink back tears as he smiles at me uncertainly, his fingers tightening around me.
“I love you, Papa.”
I feel him stiffen slightly as he hears the words that I haven’t said in years, before relaxing.
“I love you too, Khush.”
***
The lights slowly go on in the darkened room filled with people as raucous applause begins, the screen fading away to black.
Shaan pulls me up on stage, and I look out into the test audience, scanning the room for my parents. Under the dim lights, I can see them smiling at me, my mother’s hands moving rapidly as she claps as quickly as she can.
I pull my eyes away from them, shifting to a grinning NK who gives me a thumbs up. I squint at the man sitting next to NK, suddenly realizing who it is as I take a closer look.
Their fingers are threaded together, and I raise an eyebrow at NK. I see a deep blush steal up his face, and make a note to ask him how that happened later.
The room disperses as everyone flocks to the hors d’ourves placed out, picking up tall, long stemmed glasses of champagne along with it. Shaan raises a toast to me across the room, and I vaguely hear him saying something before the party begins.
I walk over to NK, poking him sharply in the stomach.
“Khushi! The guy you picked to play Andrew was so hot. What sort of powder did he use to keep his nose from being shiny? You know those lights that NK picks always make my nose shiny.”
I struggle to keep my laughter in as Shyam reaches over, pulling me into a tight hug. Over his shoulder, I glance at NK, who’s looking at us with a soft smile.
“You finally did it Khushi, and you did a kick ass job. I always knew you could do it.”
I give him a tight hug before dropping my eyes pointedly to his hands, which are entwined with Shyam’s tightly. He shrugs his shoulders, smiling mischieviously as Shyam’s fingers tighten around his.
“Er… Forgive me for being tactless, but how did that happen?”
NK and Shyam exchange embarrassed glances, and I note that despite the hilarity of this unprecedented event… the two of them seem to genuinely like each other.
“Well, if you must know… I’ve always thought NK is sexy. Those V-necked sweaters… Ooh, baby, they do-”
“Long story short, he kissed me when I was yelling at him and well…”
Shyam gives NK a reproachful glance, before turning back to me.
“NK darling, please, let me tell the story, okay?”
NK only laughs, shaking his head as Shyam continues, his hands flailing in the air.
“He was wearing that V-necked sweater… You know the baby blue one that really brings out his eyes? Yeah, that one. And he just looked so edible in that, and his eyes do this flash whenever he’s angry, and it was just so hot and I coulnd’t keep my hands to myself. And he kissed me back, and the next day, I bought him some roses and wrote him a poem, and he said yes!”
I can’t keep my snort of disbelief in this time, and I look over to NK, whose cheeks burn brightly.
“He brought you roses and recited self made poetry?”
“Well-”
Shyam interrupts him, giving NK a smile that clearly reveals how… in love he is. I see NK’s face soften, and he leans down to press a light kiss on Shyam’s lips.
“Yes, he recited poetry and bought me roses. Seven of them, one for each day of the week. And I still have all of them.”
I don’t laugh this time, not when I can see just how much they care for each other. They may be unconventional, with Shyam’s dramatics and NK’s sarcasm, but surprisingly… they balance each other out.
Shyam walks away, muttering something about needing to make connections, and I watch as he murmurs something to NK that makes the blush appear again.
“I’m happy for you, NK. I’ll admit that it’ll take some getting used to, but… you look happy, and that’s all that really matters.”
“Thank you, Khushi. Shyam’s a little insane, but his dramatics make life interesting. He drives me up the wall, but after five months… I’m actually finding it weird when he’s not around to add some “sparkle” to the world.”
“You sound in love.”
He smiles, a true, genuine smile.
“I am, Khushi. Speaking of which…”
He nods his head behind me, and I whip around to see none other than the towering figure of Arnav Singh Raizada.
“I’ll just… go find Shyam…”
I barely hear NK as I take in Arnav for the first time in six months. He looks impeccable, in a pressed three piece suit with neatly combed hair. I feel the familiar tingle of desire build deep in my stomach, and we simply stand there, staring at each other.
“Khushi… well done. You’ve made a very real, a very honest film about life. Even though it doesn’t have a happily ever after, I think… it suited it.”
I wonder for a minute whether his words have another meaning, but quickly push it out of my head as I shake his hand firmly, momentarily relishing the feeling of his fingers against mine.
If I had fooled myself into believing that my feelings for him would be gone, I was mistaken.
“Thank you. I’m glad you liked it.”
There’s another awkward pause, and we continue to simply stand in the shadows in each other’s company.
He opens his mouth, and then closes it before he says anything, instead taking a sip of his drink. I shift in my spot, trying to come to terms with the feelings that I can’t seem to let go.
“How is… How is the Bachelor?”
He seems momentarily stunned by my question, clearly not expecting me to continue the conversation, but recovers quickly, giving me an easy smile.
“The usual. Dramatic girls, roses, NK yelling at Shyam… we just finished filming the final episode, actually. And in a weird way, I’ll miss that show.”
“Sh-Should I be giving you congratulations?”
I struggle to say the words, cursing my inability to keep a facade of calm.
The corners of his lips quirk up into a soft smile, and he regards me with an guarded, inscrutable expression.
“I guess you’ll just have to wait for the episode and see. Cheers, Khushi.”
He tilts his glass towards me before walking away. I’m in shock for a second, but quickly gather myself as his figure becomes smaller.
I can’t let him leave.
Not yet.
“Arnav!”
He turns back towards me, surprised.
I fight the urge to stare at the ground, steeling myself and looking directly into his penetrating, dark eyes.
“Thank you. For everything. For believing in me enough to reccomend me to Shaan, for putting up with my whining, and for financing this film.”
He looks surprised by the fact that I know he’s the one who financed it, given the fact that the producer was known as “Rajeev Akash Singh”, or RAS- which unscrambled, reads ASR.
“What are friends for?”
He turns to walk away again, but I stop him once more with my voice. He stiffens, and I know he hears the way my voice breaks slightly as I force the statement past my lips. I see his brief nod, and I know that he’s accepted my veiled apology.
Someday, I’ll be brave enough to take off the veil, but for now… I know he understands.
“Thank you for caring enough to be honest with me, Arnav.”
***
Note: And that’s where I’ll leave you for now! There is one more chapter and then an epilogue. I’m still in the process of figuring out my next story, and I will let you know as soon as I have that decided.
As always, please follow @ipkchotidesi or this blog for updates!
Love,
Choti
“You know what your problem is, Arnav? You’re too damned arrogant and think you can play God. Thanks for the advice and help, but I think I can make it on my own from here on out.”
She wrenches her hand out of my grasp and storms away, the door slamming with heavy sound. I reach out my hand, but my fingers only grasp the cold, empty air.
She’s gone.
And the uneasy weight settling in the pit of my stomach tells me that she won’t be back. Not this time.
I feel slightly guilty that I went behind her back to get her script to Shaan. I should have told her about it, especially after I found out about her not accepting her own father’s help.
But I can’t bring myself to feel guilty about the fact that I helped her. I don’t regret what I’ve done, and if I could redo it, I would do it again without a second thought.
How has everything gone wrong so quickly?
I thought it was finally working out.
“I need you.”
Her voice, thick with desire and breathless, rings in my ears and sends goosebumps crawling up my arms. I shiver, recalling that night.
Something was different that night, something that I simply can’t ignore. I’ve always accepted the blinding passion that simmers between us, the need to just have her seared into me. That much, is easy to deal with.
But that night, I had felt something more than lust. The sight of the tears in her eyes had brought emotions that I didn’t even know I had out. I hated those tears, the pain in her eyes.
I had been unable to soothe her in words, knocked speechless by the sudden rush of emotions flooding through me. And so I had shown her in the best way that I could.
I had meant every ounce of the tenderness I had shown her that night. The deep, long kisses had nearly brought me to my knees, mindless with the need to have her trembling beneath me, to hear her cry out my name in impassioned gasps.
For the first time, I had been forced to sit back and pause. The sight of her, flushed against my sheets with her entire body calling for my touch had stilled my movements. I couldn’t help but admire her, committing the image to my memory.
That night, I was shocked by my own need to put her pleasure above mine.
I needed to feel her come apart in my arms, to see her writhe underneath my fingers and taste her on my tongue. I hadn’t hesitated to give in, to touch her exactly where she needed it, because I needed it too.
The sight of her above me, sinking onto me and taking me into her, is something I will never forget. Her dark hair falling around me, her body slicked in sweat with only the sounds of our moans and the slap of our skin is forever imprinted in my mind.
The echo of her keening, piercing cry of pleasure remains in my ears, making me long to feel her bare curves pressed against me once more.
That night, I realized that it would be very, very hard for me to move on from Khushi.
I knew Khushi would be hurt my referral to her as my friend. At the time, I honestly hadn’t known what to term her as. We had never talked about it, dancing around our feelings and relying on the sex to tell each other everything.
But words were important too, and that was something we desperately lacked in our relationship. We avoided conversations about our feelings, for fear that it would upset the balance. We failed to realize that we were also upsetting the balance by avoiding those very necessary conversations.
The feelings she evoked in me scared me, and I hadn’t wanted to start that difficult conversation either.
So I had attempted to assay my feelings through the coffee, hoping that she would understand my message. The shocked, pleasantly surprised look on her face had told me everything I needed to know.
Her pointed questions had forced me to confront the conversation I had been avoiding, and at that moment, I had made the decision to stop running from the words I needed to say.
“Tell me Arnav, do you sleep with all of your friends?”
“I know that I like you. I think you’re funny, smart, and I’m very attracted to you. I don’t think I’ve ever had better sex in my life, and I’m not a sanskar virgin by any means. I think we could have an amazing relationship, beyond the sex- But if you’re looking for confessions of love, I won’t be able to give it to you. At least not yet.”
I meant every word I said that night. I knew the difference between simple lust and something more, and I had consciously chosen my words that night to reveal that I was serious about the possibility of a relationship.
But I had also meant it when I told her that I couldn’t give her a confession of love- that I wanted to date her, to get to know her.
I wouldn’t term my feelings as love, because I honestly cannot say that I know her well enough to love her. My feelings were not superficial, but I didn’t want to use the word love until I was sure.
Because once those words were out, there was no taking them back.
During that conversation, I had omitted the fact that while I may not love her, I knew I harbored deeper feelings for her than simple attraction.
And she had chosen not to question it.
I had seen the doubt in her eyes that alerted me to the fact that she knew I wasn’t telling her everything.
But she had let it go, and I had been too scared to delve further.
***
I shoot a glance at Khushi from the corner of my eyes. She’s busy fiddling with the lens, like she always does when she’s upset. She takes apart the camera and puts it back together, and there’s a sadness in her eyes.
I don’t like seeing her upset.
While my own ego won’t let me apologize, but I also feel as if I don’t have anything to apologize for.
After all, I don’t regret what I did. Besides the fact that she is- was?- my girlfriend and friend, Khushi is also incredibly talented and deserves a break.
Khushi pointedly ignores my texts, glancing at her phone and then putting it down. She leaves as soon as the shoot is over, avoiding me completely.
And I haven’t made an attempt to actually go up to her and talk to her.
I meant it when I said that Khushi needs to grow up. In order for us to be in a relationship, she needs to first figure out what she wants from life. Her uncertainty about her own life is reflected in her writing, and I can see what the producers meant by her scripts lacking a certain sense of maturity.
Her inability to let go of her own pride and accept help reminds me of myself a couple of years ago, and I know that she has to learn the same lessons I did. Failure and learning to accept it is something everyone needs to learn.
And until she learns that difficult lesson, our relationship will never work.
It is for that reason that I’ve chosen to maintain my distance from her this last week.
We both need distance from each other, to come to terms with our brutal argument. This argument would not have ended with a mere apology- I wouldn’t have been able to take her immaturity in certain matters, and she would continue to accuse me of playing God.
Without distance, this issue would continue to come between us… until it eventually tore us apart.
“Arnav, Lavanya, let’s shoot the fantasy suite scene.”
I notice Khushi stiffening immediately, and suck in a deep breath. We chose to keep our relationship away from the Bachelor, and she accepted that it was simply a role I had to play.
“Arnav, I don’t mean to sound… clingy. But it has to be addressed- you’re the Bachelor. How does that affect our relationship? You made out with Lavanya while you were sleeping with me, and I’m not blaming you for it, but you are essentially ‘dating’ other women.”
“Khushi, I can’t back out of the Bachelor. I did it for NK, and you know that.”
“And I’m not asking you to- I just think we need to address how it defines our relationship.”
“I… I think we have to look at our relationship as a separate entity. The Bachelor is a job for me, a role I’m playing. I don’t intend to marry any of those women.”
“But that’s what they think you’ll be doing.”
“The show says I don’t have to propose at the end, or even choose to pursue a relationship- I am at free will to say that I don’t believe I’ve truly found love, and that I would like to ‘let them go’, in cliched terms.”
She pauses, her eyes uncertain.
“So it’s just a role? You’re… serious about us.”
I take her hands in mine, trying to convey that I mean what I say.
“I’m completely serious about us. I would like to give this relationship a shot. For me, the Bachelor is nothing more than a role, a character I play. I hope you’ll trust me on this.”
She takes a deep breath, her fingers tightening around mine.
“Alright. But… if this doesn’t work at some point in the future, I will bring it up again.”
“Deal.”
The uncertain state of our relationship makes me pause for a moment, realizing that Khushi could take this entirely the wrong way. I hope that our fight hasn’t erased the memory of our conversation on this very issue.
I brace myself, and plaster on a smile, agreeing to shoot the scene. I don’t look back at Khushi, knowing that if I see her expression, regardless of what it is… I’ll lose my ability to play this role convincingly.
I close the door behind me silently, and turn around to face Lavanya, who’s looking at me coyly underneath her eyelashes. She’s leaning slightly forward, pressing up her generous chest towards me. Her shirt rides up just a little, and I can see her flat stomach.
I find myself longing for the curves that Khushi has, the feel of her skin under my hands.
I smile at her, walking over and taking her hands in my own as I sit down next to her on the bed. Away from the cameras, this action feels less scripted, and a lot easier to do.
I know what she expects from me, just as I know what to expect from her.
I stare at her for a minute, trying to collect what I want to say to her. The expectant, eager look in her eyes pushes me forward, and I quickly initiate the conversation we need to have.
A few hours later, we leave the room, bright smiles on our faces.
I grasp her wrist, forcing her to face me as we walk out. I keep my voice to a whisper so that the cameras can’t pick up what I’m saying, and lean in closer towards her.
“Are you okay with this, Lavanya?”
Her response unsettles me, and I watch as she walks away. I vaguely hear NK yelling cut, and the commotion that comes after it.
I immediately sweep the room for a glimpse of her, even though I know I won’t find her there.
All I see is her blurred figure as she rushes out, stuffing the camera into the bag with force as she swings it over her shoulder.
Damn it.
***
Note: And that’s where I’ll leave you for today!
I realize that this was on the shorter side- my apologies for that, I didn’t feel the need to make it longer because I hit what I needed to. I also realize that what happened in the fantasy suite is vague- and I will say that it is purposefully so.
The next chapter will be Khushi’s perspective, and I believe it will be the penultimate chapter (not including the epilogue). I am very sad this story is coming to a close- but another door will open, and I’m very excited to explore that.
Please follow @ipkchotidesi on Twitter or this blog for updates. Happy reading!
Love always,
Choti
“Di, this is Khushi. My… friend.”
My heart plummets, and I smile tightly at the family standing in front of me. Anand gives me a huge grin, and the tense air eases slightly.
“Mom, I’m hungry! What’s for breakfast?”
Anjali looks at Arnav questioningly, placing a hand on Anand’s shoulder.
“I don’t know if Arnav Mama would want us to join him and his… Friend. They might be… Eating.”
She winks at me, clearly enjoying the deep flush that fills my face. I avoid Arnav’s eyes, feeling them on me almost immediately. He doesn’t take his eyes away from me as he answers her, making my heart thud uncomfortably in my chest.
“Of course you’re free to join us, Di. We can always eat alone… Later.”
I burn with embarrassment, pointedly avoiding the satisfied smirk on his face. Anjali sniggers quietly behind her hand, leading Anand into the kitchen behind Aman and Arnav.
I struggle to contain the pangs of desire that threaten to overwhelm my irritation with him. Immaturely, I want to stay mad at him, hoping that he will initiate the conversation I’m afraid to.
What if last night only changed things for… Me?
Anjali brings out a plate of steaming dosas, and I take them from her hands to place them on the table. She smiles gratefully, nodding dutifully at Anand’s chatter as we sit down to eat.
Arnav hands me the filter coffee, and I nod stiffly to him in acknowledgement. I lift the cup to my mouth, savoring the familiar scent. Payal made it all the time in college, and I’ve developed an unhealthy addiction to the drink. But more often than not, I end up grabbing a cup of bitter black coffee, lacking the time to make a good cup.
I nearly choke on the first sip, my eyes widening in surprise as the taste spreads over my tongue.
It tastes exactly like how I like it, down to the two spoons of sugar.
He doesn’t look at me as I gape at him, calmly continuing his conversation with Aman.
How could he possibly know?
I don’t recall ever telling him how I like my coffee, and whenever we’ve had breakfast together, I’ve always made my own.
“Khushi, you graduated with Chote, right? I remember seeing you as the valedictorian… NYU’s film program, if I’m not mistaken?”
Anjali’s innocent question brings back the memory of yet another rejection, and I barely muster up a smile for her.
“Yes, that’s right. NYU.”
“Are you currently working on anything?”
“I have a script, but I haven’t found anyone to take it yet. I’m currently filming the Bachelor, actually.”
Anjali rolls her eyes, glaring disapprovingly at Arnav.
“Yes, that show.”
“Di, we’ve been through this. I did it for NK. I highly doubt I’ll find my soulmate in that batch of women.”
Anjali notices my fleeting glance towards an entraptured Anand, and quickly sends him off to wash the dishes before continuing.
“It’s the principle, Chote. You’re leading them on!”
“Please. Like any of them actually believe I’m perfect for them. They just want the money. And my… Expertise.”
Aman hides his laughter when Anjali shoots him a reproachful glare, folding her arms across her chest. I shift uncomfortably, not wanting to be caught in the middle of a family argument.
“And what happens when it’s the final rose and you’ve met their families and raised expectations? You tell them you’ve already got a… friend? That you’re sorry you can’t reciprocate, tell them you love them?”
I stiffen immediately, realizing the truth behind Anjali’s words. While we’ve been doing… this, I’ve successfully managed to put Arnav’s position as the Bachelor out of my mind. Anjali’s words bring back the painful tug of my heart, reminding me of the passionate kiss he shared with Lavanya.
“Di, it’ll be fine. I know better now, and I won’t repeat my mistakes.”
“Mom, I’ve got karate in half an hour.”
Anand interrupts the heavy silence, glancing between the four of us. He seems to sense the tension in the room, and quickly tugs Anjali and Aman out. His perceptiveness surprises me, especially in light of his age.
Anjali gives me a quick hug as she leaves, smiling at me.
“You know, Khushi, I almost never meet Chote’s friends. It’s so nice to-”
“Mom! Let’s go!”
“We’ll finish this later.”
She gives me one last smile, before shooting Arnav a meaningful look.
He closes the door behind her, turning to face me with a sigh.
“Sorry about that. Di tends to be… Inquisitive.”
“Don’t apologize. She’s sweet, and Anand is adorable. Aman seems… Quiet.”
“He’s always been quiet. Di more than makes up for it with her nonstop nonsense.”
“She doesn’t seem to be happy about you doing the Bachelor.”
“No. She isn’t.”
I wait for him to continue, and he regards me carefully.
“I made a mistake with a woman a few years ago. She thought we were heading for marriage… I had no such plans. She made a huge fuss in the media, and it turned into a huge scandal.”
“This was… Ashwini Singh, right?”
“Ashwini, yes.”
I nod tightly, walking back into his room to grab my stuff. I hear him following behind me quietly, clearly on edge.
“Khushi…”
“Yes?”
He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but then closes it, apparently thinking the better of it.
“What?”
“You’re unhappy.”
“We’re friends. What’s there to be unhappy about?”
“See, I knew you would be upset about that. How else was I supposed to introduce you in front of Anand?”
“I don’t know, Arnav, why don’t you tell me?”
“This is what you always do, Khushi! You shut me out.”
“Tell me Arnav, do you sleep with all of your friends?”
“Was I supposed to tell Anand that we’re fuck buddies?”
“Is that what we are?”
He takes a step closer to me, his eyes glinting in fury.
“I don’t know what we are. We’ve never talked about it. You have no right to be angry that I called you a friend.”
“We’ve been sleeping together for over a month.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Doesn’t mean anything?”
He sighs heavily, running his fingers through his hair.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“What exactly does this mean to you?”
He stares at me for a minute, his expression inscrutable. He clenches his jaw, pushing me up against the wall as he steps forward again.
“I know that I like you. I think you’re funny, smart, and I’m very attracted to you. I don’t think I’ve ever had better sex in my life, and I’m not a sanskar virgin by any means. I think we could have an amazing relationship, beyond the sex- But if you’re looking for confessions of love, I won’t be able to give it to you. At least not yet.”
He steps away from me, his eyes penetrating me as I gape at him.
I’m completely floored by his honesty. I hadn’t expected such a candid answer from him. I had thought he was a Casanova that would run at the idea of commitment.
And he proved me wrong again.
He’s waiting expectantly for my response, and I take in a shaky breath. I owe him a response as honest as his, and that idea scares me.
“I enjoy being around you. You’re easy to talk to, and you like Harry Potter. That’s an automatic bonus. I can’t deny that the sex is amazing-”
I see his cocky grin, and roll my eyes.
“I know that I have… feelings for you. It’s not just about the sex for me. I won’t be able to give you a confession of love either, because I don’t know how I feel. I’m not an easy person to be in a relationship with- but I’d like to try. If you’re willing, of course?”
He smiles, a true smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes up.
“Well, Ms. Gupta- let’s do this relationship thing then.”
I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his in a gentle kiss. The kiss quickly turns heated, and my lips are tingling when we finally break away.
He gives me a wicked grin, lifting me up before I can protest.
“How about we have brunch together?
-***-
“NK, why don’t I get to film the date with our handsome bachelor?”
NK closes his eyes, and I can hear him counting backwards underneath his breath.
“Because you’re not competing, Shyam.”
“Please. I could beat all these young ladies hands down in a hotness competition. Am I right or am I right?”
“Shyam, shut the-”
“NK!”
“-fuck up.”
“Can we, like, just like, get shooting please?”
“Um, uh, NKji, I- I haven’t finished pooja yet.”
I hear the buzz of my phone amidst the commotion, and reach for it immediately.
Arnav: Need an Advil yet?
I glance across the room to see him smiling at me, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
I’m about to respond when I see Shyam step up to him, placing his hand on Arnav’s bicep as he trails his fingers down. I see Arnav’s eyes widen, turning to see Shyam smiling up at him coyly.
I strain to hear Shyam’s words, snorting at Arnav’s displeased expression.
“Baby, we’re starting shooting soon. Are you sure you don’t want… Me in there?”
Shyam purrs, looking at Arnav with a comical coyness. I fight my laughter, and sober as soon as Arnav’s eyes fall on me, narrowing threateningly.
I wink at him, grinning impishly.
To my surprise, Arnav and I have worked out thus far. We have had our share of arguments in the last couple of weeks, but overall, our relationship has only gotten better.
A lot of that has to do with the openness we now have. He no longer tiptoes around me, and I try my best to face issues head on. We’ve avoided bringing back a situation like earlier, and sit down and talk through our problems.
But besides our relationship, our friendship has developed as well. Our conversations spam everything, and I find that he’s well versed in a variety of subjects.
I find myself smiling softly, grateful for the friendship I’ve gained from this relationship. Arnav’s perspective is refreshing, and it’s nice to have another point of view to consider.
My phone buzzes beside me, and I lift it, expecting to see a text from Arnav.
But I find myself holding the phone with trembling hands hovering over the accept button instead.
-***-
I stare at the screen in disbelief, unable to hit the accept button.
Shaan Chopra, Devi Productions.
The one man that holds my future in his hands.
The ringing stops, and I realize it’s going to voicemail. Hastily, I hit the accept button, interrupting my pre-recorded message.
“Hello?”
“May I speak with Khushi Kumari Gupta?”
“That is me.”
“This is Shaan Chopra, calling from Devi Productions. You had sent us a script for a short film about a month ago.”
“Yes?”
“We had asked for more time to consider it, and I wanted to let you know that we’ve made a decision.”
There is a pause on the other side of the line, and I steel myself for rejection.
“Your script has some work that needs to be done. The writing is a little sloppy, and it could be cleaned up further. It lacks a certain level of maturity, but you are a new writer, aren’t you?”
I blink back tears at the familiar words, before choking out an affirmation.
No matter how many edits I make, it never seems to be enough.
“However. Your story is incredibly strong, and your characters are more well developed than any new I’ve seen recently. If you’re willing to work with an editor, I, and Devi Productions, would love to work with you.”
I barely hear what he says after my delighted acceptance of his offer, quickly noting down the date and time he wants us to meet.
I can’t stop the happy tears that spill over, or the shriek of joy that fills me.
My hands unwittingly dial a number, and I raise the phone to my ear as it rings. I’m delirious with happiness, completely stunned by this recent development.
Devi Productions is one of the most renowned, and I can’t believe that they’ve actually accepted my script.
This opportunity is something I only held in my dreams, and I can scarcely believe that it is a reality now.
“Hello?”
My grip tightens on the phone as the familiar, deep voice of my father washes over me.
In my joy, I had automatically dialed the number of my parents.
“Bauji?”
My voice is shaky, and I can almost feel my father stiffen across the line.
“Khushi. Tum… Kaisi ho?”
“Bauji, my… My script got accepted. At Devi Productions.”
There’s a poignant silence that seems to stretch endlessly, and I swallow, trying to calm myself.
Even after all that’s happened, I can’t stop myself from hoping that my father will… Finally be proud of me.
There’s a heavy sigh on the other end, and I prepare myself for the worst.
“Congratulations, beta. I knew you could do it.”
His voice is tender, something I haven’t heard in years. I can hear his pride, and I know he has the same expression he had when he found out that I won the local writing competitions, and the same one he had when I won the Science bee.
It brings tears to my eyes, and I find myself sobbing on the line with my father listening quietly as I recount the conversation, hiccups and all.
I barely register my mother’s proud, teary congratulations, telling me I have to attend a pooja she will hold to thank Devi Maiyya for giving me this chance.
All I can think is that my father is… Finally, finally proud of me.
I haven’t failed.
-***-
I step into Mr. Chopra’s office the next morning, nearly shaking with excitement.
I smooth my dress out for the millionth time, hoping there aren’t any wrinkles.
A small smile takes over my face when I recall what happened this morning as I tried to get dressed, trying on outfit after outfit. Arnav had watched with an amused smile, before pulling me to him and telling me I looked better in nothing.
Needless to say, I was a little harried on my way here.
We discuss my script, with the editor sitting in on the meeting as we go over details. I can hardly believe I am here, in this office, discussing my script.
Shaan, as he requested I call him, proves to be incredibly involved with the entire process, sitting through the whole meeting.
He’s attentive and interested, with his glasses perched on his nose and a green pen in his hand to make insertions and comments along with my editor. His slightly grating hair and kind eyes immediately set me at ease, and before I know it, the meeting is over.
I stand up to leave, grasping his hand in a firm handshake.
“You know, Khushi, I have to say- I’m pleasantly surprised. I was hesitant to read your script, since I usually don’t take newcomers. But Arnav convinced me to give it a shot, and I have to say that I am impressed.”
I try to smile at his praise, even as my stomach drops to my feet. My mind goes blank after his statement, and I nod and walk out robotically, attempting to come to terms with what he has told me.
Arnav, was responsible for this?
-***-
I raise my hand to knock on the door, trying to control my temper.
I haven’t been this angry, this hurt in a while, and the feelings are hard to control.
Arnav swings open the door, a bright smile on his face as he presses his lips to mine in a tender kiss.
But I stand there stiffly, refusing to reciprocate.
He pulls back, his brow furrowed as he stares at me.
“Khushi? Did the meeting not go well?”
“You told Shaan to look at my script.”
His eyes are startled, and he takes a step back from me. He quickly regroups, but I can see that he’s thrown off guard.
Was he never planning to tell me?
“Shaan is a mentor of mine. I did tell him to read your script, since I knew he usually doesn’t consider newcomers-”
“Even after me telling you that I wanted to do this on my own? That I refused my father’s help because I wanted to… find my own way?”
My voice is trembling, and I feel the unpleasant prickling of tears at the back of my throat.
Arnav’s eyes soften, and I hate the look of… Pity in his eyes.
“Khushi, you did do this on your own. I didn’t tell him to accept it, only to look-”
“Damn it, Arnav, I don’t want your pity!”
His eyes harden, and he steps away again. His figure is stiff with indignation and anger.
I know I’m being unfair, but I can’t stop the devastation I feel upon realizing that I’ve had to rely on yet another person to have any success.
Why can’t I achieve anything on my own?
“Pity? Khushi, I didn’t pity you! You’re my girlfriend, and my friend, and I-”
“Exactly! What if I wasn’t either, Arnav? Would I have gotten this chance?”
“Of course you wouldn’t have!”
Disbelief courses through me, and Arnav immediately backtracks.
“Khushi, that’s not what-”
“I know perfectly well what you meant.”
My voice is icy, and I struggle to keep the hurt of the betrayal out of it. I whirl around to leave.
I feel a rough grip on my wrist, and I’m spun around to face caramel eyes, glittering in anger.
“Don’t you dare leave without hearing me out.”
“I’ve heard enough.”
“Khushi, you know what your problem is? You’re too damned naive.”
I open my mouth to rebut, but his steely expression stops me.
“When I say you wouldn’t have made it, I mean that because you can’t make it in this industry without connections. You have to have someone vouching for you, or you’ll languish forever, no matter how talented you are. You need to learn to accept help, Khushi. It’s not a sign of weakness- it’s a sign of maturity that you can accept that you aren’t capable of doing everything.”
“Are you implying that I’m immature?”
“In some ways, yes. You are.”
I wrench my hand from his grasp, fury and hurt coursing through my veins.
“You know what your problem is, Arnav? You’re too damned arrogant and think you can play God. Thanks for the advice and help, but I think I can make it on my own from here on out.”
I wrench my hand out of his grasp, and stalk out of his apartment, ignoring the tears that stream down my face.
He doesn’t come after me.
-***-
I sit at the camera, my hands fiddling with the lens. I pointedly avoid Arnav’s gaze, ignoring the buzz of my phone.
I haven’t talked to him in a week, and I’ve thrown myself into my work with Devi Productions and filming to keep my mind occupied.
I know I should apologize, but my pride refuses to let me. I’m still furious at what he said, the hurt a sharp ache that won’t let me go.
I feel like he doesn’t believe in me, and that hurts more than anything he could have said.
“Arnav, Lavanya, let’s shoot the fantasy suite scene. Lavanya, you’re accepting his offer.”
I wait for Arnav to turn him down, to tell him that he’s in a relationship.
But it never comes.
Instead, he simply nods, and turns towards her, smiling softly as he offers the key to the room. I know the bed is decorated with roses and hearts, since I had to decorate it with NK.
I watch him disappear into the room, following behind her, and the door closes with an ominous click.
As soon as I can, I hit the stop button and rush out of the studio, muttering out an excuse before Arnav can see me.
This time, the betrayal hurts even more. I sit in my car, staring out of the window blankly.
I grit my teeth, steeling myself. I won’t let the tears fall, not anymore.
I am done with Arnav Singh Raizada.
-***-
Note: And that’s where I’ll leave you for now! Next chapter will be Arnav’s perspective, and I’ll put a teaser up soon.
This story will have 12 chapters + and epilogue, and I’ve had that planned from the beginning. That being said, that means this story is reaching a close. do have something in mind to write after this, but I am not entirely sure- I’ll have more information underneath the epilogue, and I hope you will join me for that journey- if I choose to take it- as well.
Please follow this blog or @ipkchotidesi on Twitter for story notifications and update links.
Love always,
Choti
Chapter Seven Part Two has been updated just below the first part. It can be found here. Enjoy! I’ll see you all in two weeks 🙂
An Extra Note: For those of you wondering about what Arnav is thinking, he will voice his thoughts soon, I promise!
Note: Once again, this chapter has mature content. Happy Reading!
-***-
I stand there frozen, mentally cursing the raging hormones that have brought me to this state.
Damn him.
“Khushi? What are you-”
I cut him off by throwing myself into his arms, sinking my hands into his wet hair and tugging him down to a fervent kiss. His hands rest limply at his waist, completely shocked by my assault.
I pull back and look at him, my entire body trembling with heady desire. We’re both breathing heavily, and we stand in the door, staring at each other for a poignant minute.
He pushes me back against the door, slamming it shut as he takes my lips in a desperate kiss. His hands reach for the pin holding my hair in the bun, tugging it off and tossing it away. I vaguely hear it clatter somewhere, but I’m too focused on alleviating the already pounding pressure between my legs.
He lifts me up, dropping me on the couch before he leans over me again. His towel has come loose, and I tug at it with my fingers, letting it drop to the floor in a heap.
His hands make quick work of my underwear, pushing it aside and sinking his fingers into me. My skirt falls over his hands, and I arch my hips, relishing the feel of his skillful fingers against me.
He seems to sense my need for release, and doesn’t waste any time. His fingers rub the throbbing ball of nerves, stroking it until I’m falling apart, my impassioned moans splitting the silence in his apartment.
He gets up from the couch, disappearing into the apartment for a minute. I can hear him rummaging around, and he comes back with a condom in his hands. He hands it to me, and I slide it on, my entire body flushing as he groans at the touch of my fingers.
He takes my lips in an intense kiss, pulling at my hair as my mouth opens underneath his. We fall back on the couch, with me leaning over him, my hair falling around his face.
I trail my lips down his skin, dragging my tongue against it. His skin is still moist from the shower, flushed a light red. I suck off the remaining droplets, and his muscles are taut underneath my fingers.
I circle a tentative finger around his nipple, watching as his eyes close tightly. I bring my mouth to it, grazing my teeth lightly over the sensitive skin. He groans, his hands skimming over my covered breasts as his head falls back against the pillow.
“Khushi…”
My name is thick on his lips, and I recognize that he’s done playing. I settle myself over him, sinking down slowly. His hands clutch my hips tightly, and I begin to move uncertainly.
The feeling of him underneath me, completely naked, gives me a sense of control I’ve never felt. He guides my covered hips with his hands, lifting me slightly as I take him into me again and again.
His fingers dig into my waist as he reaches his peak, groaning in satisfaction as his body shudders beneath mine. I press forward, and within minutes, my entire body courses with untamed passion as I clench around him again.
I fall against him, completely exhausted. My shirt is soaked with the sweat of exertion, and he wraps his arms around me, curling me into himself.
I ignore the niggling voice at the back of my head that tells me I’m making a mistake, that this whole thing is wrong. We haven’t discussed anything, and I had sworn to never give in.
But this burning need is something I can’t overlook, and for once, I feel relaxed. I’m tired of constantly worrying about the consequences of my actions, and it feels good to let go of my inhibitions and embrace a little recklessness.
I swallow the uncertainty, and slip into a peaceful, satiated slumber.
-***-
I wake up on Arnav’s couch, alone. I’m instantly gripped by worry, and I search the room for a sign of him.
Right as I’m about to call out for him, he walks in, holding two cups of steaming chai. He’s wearing a pair of low slung, grey sweatpants and a tight tshirt, and I forcibly avert my eyes.
The smell hits my nose, and I suddenly realize that I haven’t eaten all day. My stomach grumbles in protest as I take the cups from him, and he raises an eyebrow.
“Hungry?”
I nod bashfully, and he grins. I’m momentarily struck by how good he looks when he smiles, lighting up his entire face. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone and dialing a number.
“Chinese okay?”
I smile my approval, and he quickly places the order. We’re sitting cross legged on the couch facing each other, and I find myself unable to meet his eyes when he puts the phone down.
“So… What did you come here to tell me before we were otherwise… Distracted?”
I fight my blush as a smirk curves his lips, a naughty glint in his eyes. I open my mouth to ask him about what this… Thing between us is, but I think the better of it and swallow my words.
He’s waiting expectantly, and I hastily search my brain for a valid excuse.
“Um… Er… Rajjo’s leaving.”
His eyes betray his shock, and I feel a small burst of satisfaction at being able to surprise him.
“She is? Why? I’m not that unattractive, am I?”
He looks at me innocently, clearly fishing for compliments, and I glare at him reproachfully.
“You’re okay, I guess.”
“Okay? Is that why you-”
“She’s getting married!”
I quickly cut him off before he can remind me of my actions, flushing at the memory of how I had thrown myself at him.
“Really? To who?”
“Her childhood sweetheart. They grew up next to each other, but grew apart when she moved here. She’s moving back to marry him.”
“Good for her. Pass her my congratulations- even though I will call her myself.”
“Will do.”
“So who’s replacing her?”
“Replacing?”
“Of course. I was hoping that you would.”
He tosses me a wink, and I roll my eyes at his audaciousness. My body tingles pleasantly at the idea that he wants me to be a part of the Bachelor, even as my mind tells me that it means nothing.
“And who would film? Your mother?”
“I could call her in from India-”
“She moved to India?”
He smiles fondly, a childish glimmer in his eyes. I’m stunned to see this softer side of Arnav, a stark contrast to his normally arrogant persona.
“Yes. She and my dad found that they missed the desh too much. As soon as Di and Aman Bhai married, they decided to shift to our home in India.”
“Aman is…”
“My brother-in-law. Good lord, he and Di are insufferable. They’re the definition of a sickeningly sweet couple.”
I stifle a laugh at his disgusted expression, remembering when Payal and Akash were much the same way. Thankfully, marriage has made them less sappy and more practical- and Piya doesn’t leave much time for their constant cuddling.
“Don’t laugh. You would understand my pain if you were subjected to hours of sweetiepoo and honeykins and ‘meri jaan’.”
“Actually, I do understand. Payal and Akash were just like that, until Piya was born.”
“Unfortunately, a child has failed to dim the potent love between them. Anand is a joy though- no pun intended. Di is forever berating me for spoiling him. But Di and Aman Bhai are still as nauseating as ever- you would think someone spiked their drink with amortentia.”
“Wait- you’re a Harry Potter fan?”
“Always.”
I grin at him, and he smiles back. His eyes are softer, something I haven’t seen from him. The loud ring of the doorbell interrupts the moment, and after that, we devour the food, speaking in short bursts in between.
It’s comfortable between us, and conversation flows easily. I don’t feel like I have to fill every silence with words, and that’s something I’ve lacked desperately in other relationships.
I’m coming to realize that besides the fiery passion, Arnav ignites a warm feeling within me.
And I’m not sure how comfortable I am with that.
-***-
“You know, it’s been a good experience. I’ve loved getting to know Arnav, and even though I haven’t necessarily gotten along with everyone- I hope that I don’t leave too many hard feelings behind.”
I silently hand Puja a tissue as she sniffles loudly, honking her nose into the flimsy cloth. She’s reaching for another one within seconds, and I eventually just hand her the entire box. She gives me a watery smile, and I smile back, feeling tears prick at the back of my own eyes.
Regardless of all the arguments Rajjo has been involved in, her presence on the set will be deeply missed. I’m happy for her, of course, but she had a way of putting everyone in their place. Her sense of fairness has always been incredibly strong, and that’s something that will be lacking without her.
I reach over and give her a tight hug. I feel small beside her large frame, but she engulfs me in a tight squeeze, pulling out promise after promise to attend her wedding in a year.
“Alright, let’s shoot the next date- Arnav, Lavanya, get seated. You’re going to a Chinese restaurant.”
My gut clenches when I see Arnav smile brightly at Lavanya as they sit down on the couch, in a position that’s eerily similar to the one we’ve often found ourselves in over the last three weeks.
The last three weeks have been busy, with us resuming shooting after our week long break. Shooting has been considerably smoother, and as we bid goodbye to the girls, the tension has gone up steadily as the competition becomes more cutthroat.
Despite the competition, I’ve often found myself spending time with Arnav after shoots. We’ve gone out to dinner numerous times, under the excuse of “prepping” him for the next day.
But more often than not, it’s ended up with us sleeping together, or simply talking into the late hours of the night. It’s beginning to feel a lot like we’re dating.
Except that we haven’t discussed any of it.
Our teetering relationship makes me uneasy, but I’m more content than I’ve been in years. I don’t want to tip this precarious balance we’re hanging in, for fear that if I do… I won’t be able to go back.
The picture of a serious relationship with Arnav Singh Raizada, who I’d sworn to resist just a couple weeks ago, is becoming uncomfortably clear. The growing feelings I have for him are unsettling, but they’re becoming harder and harder to ignore.
I shake myself out of my thoughts, glancing at my phone to see if anyone has called me. I’ve sent my script to two directors, and I’m waiting on their call back. The second one is a longshot, but Arnav convinced me to send it to him.
If they don’t accept it- I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t want to admit that I’ve failed, that my parents were right when they said I should look to my other interests instead of film.
I have to succeed.
I stare at the phone, which is frustratingly blank, until I’m jolted out of my thoughts by NK’s next directions.
“Arnav, Lavanya- let’s shoot a kiss. You guys have such phenomenal chemistry, and I think that we could really exploit that.”
My stomach plummets at his words, and I stare at Arnav’s back. I can’t see his expression, but Lavanya’s smug smirk makes me want to throw something at the wall.
I’ve been conveniently ignoring the fact that Arnav is also dating an entire group of girls on the show, and that fact has come back to hit me square in the face.
I watch as Arnav nods, smiling at Lavanya. I mechanically hit the record button, unable to tear my eyes away as he leans in, placing a soft, gentle kiss on her lips. She grasps his hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.
His hands slide up her waist, brushing up against the curve of her breast, and I can’t watch any longer. I push away from the chair, sprinting out of the room as the tears threaten to fall, even as NK calls my name.
I run out of the building to my car, sinking down into the leather seats. I feel nauseated, even though I know that this is partially my own fault.
But I can’t help but feel resentful at the fact that Arnav seemed perfectly willing to kiss her, even as he’s sleeping with me.
I find myself wondering again, forced to confront the question I’ve been avoiding for so long.
What does Arnav mean to me now?
-*Part Two*-
I walk back into the shoot, where Arnav and Lavanya are standing arm in arm. I give NK a watery smile, ignoring the questioning gaze of Arnav. I turn away from him, resentment bubbling up as I glimpse his hand on Lavanya’s waist.
I know I’m being ridiculous, but I can’t stop it. His casual acceptance of NK’s proposal has me seething in irritation, and I barely keep myself from shooting a burning glare at Lavanya.
“Khushi, can you meet me in my office?”
NK’s voice is cutting, and I wince when I hear the hint of disapproval in his voice. I follow him silently, anticipating his admonishment.
He closes the door, gesturing for me to sit down. I fiddle with my fingers, looking down and breathing heavily.
“You know what I’m going to say.”
“NK, I’m an adult-”
“I realize that. But I don’t think you’ve considered the consequences.”
“Please, did you consider the consequences with Nitin?”
“No. And I’m hoping you don’t make the same mistake.”
“NK, I don’t know what you’re assuming, but-”
“I’m assuming that you’re sleeping with Arnav.”
“Stellar observation, NK. Shall I give you an award now?”
He sighs deeply, looking at me seriously. I know he only means the best for me, especially since we’ve been close friends since our college days.
“Khushi, I made a mistake sleeping with Nitin when we were working together. It messed up our relationship, professionally and personally. Considering the fact that Arnav is your boss as well as the main lead in the Bachelor, I hope that you’ll think about it before you do anything further.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Dad. Thanks for the unsolicited advice.”
NK rolls his eyes, and I stand up to leave.
“What happened with the scripts? Did you hear back?”
My hand tightens on the knob, and I shake my head in the negative.
“You know, Khushi, maybe it’s not such a bad idea to take up Uncle’s idea about-”
“No. You know how I feel about that. I want to succeed on my own, NK, and I don’t need any help.”
“In this industry, you need the connections, and as an outsider, it’s difficult to make it.”
“That’s a misconception. Plenty of people have made it without connections.”
“It doesn’t hurt to get a little help every once in a while, Khushi.”
I only grit my teeth and walk out, my hands clenching. I don’t need anyone’s help, and I don’t need anyone’s pity. I’m perfectly capable of succeeding on my own. I will away the memories of that conversation, the one that catalyzed this entire mess.
“Bitiya, did you hear back from the director?”
“He doesn’t want my script, Amma. He said it didn’t have maturity.”
I wipe the tears away harshly, peeling the potato with more force than necessary. I pointedly ignore my dad’s penetrating stare, not wanting to admit that he may have been right about my decision to go into cinematography and filming at NYU.
Maybe I should have gone to Harvard and taken the pre-medicine path instead.
“Khush, what if I… financed you?”
My hands still on the potato at my father’s words, his tentative offer increasing the thick tension in the room.
“Do you think I can’t make it on my own, Bauji?”
He sighs heavily, pulling his reading glasses off and setting them on the table next to the newspaper as I turn to face him, my hands crossed over my chest.
“No, Khush. I have full faith in you. I just think that you’re being stubborn, and that since you’ve chosen this more… difficult life, you should let me help.”
“After all that you’ve said to me, telling me I’d never be a success, why would I ever take help from you?”
“Khushi, I’m not trying to hurt you! I was- I’ll admit I overreacted when you made your decision, but I want you to succeed. I’m your father.”
“You certainly weren’t saying that when I made my decision to go to NYU. What was it, that “these arts majors never succeed”? Isn’t that what you said?”
“Khushi, I’m trying to make amends here. I want you to succeed. You need some help, and I’m willing to give it to you, I just- I made a mistake. I want you to be happy, beta.”
“That’s rich, Bauji.”
I finish peeling the potatoes quickly and storm out of the apartment, leaving to get some fresh air. Before I can leave, I hear my father’s voice behind me.
“Khushi, if you ever need it, just ask.”
I swallow tightly and slam the door shut as I rush out, fighting against my instincts to go running into my parents’ arms.
I sit in the front seat of my car, staring at my phone screen. It remains frustratingly blank, with only a picture of Payal and me staring back. I mindlessly swipe my fingers across the screen, playing 2048 blindly as I slip back into old memories.
Talent has to get you somewhere.
It has to.
The vibration and the loud, nasal tones of Munni Badnam Hui rings out in my silent car, and I jump. My finger hovers over the accept button, trembling slightly.
I hit the button and raise the phone to my ear.
“Khushi Kumari Gupta?”
“Yes?”
“We’re sorry to tell you that we can’t accept your script at the moment.”
My fingers tighten on the phone when I hear the familiar words of rejection yet again, telling me that they’re “not quite ready” to take on a “new writer”.
I press the end call button, the tears flowing unchecked down my cheeks.
I’ve got one more shot, one that seems further out of my reach than ever before. The man in question is a huge director, and I only sent it to him on Arnav’s insistence.
There’s almost no chance that he will accept my script, but I can’t lose hope. Not yet.
I slam my foot down on the accelerator, my hands turning the steering wheel unconsciously.
I need something to take my mind off of my misery, the feeling that I’ve failed yet again. I screech into a familiar parking spot, one I’ve taken numerous times over the last couple of weeks. I glance up the tall, posh apartment complex, staring up at the penthouse.
I need this right now, the intense, passionate sex that takes my mind off of everything.
I step into the elevator, pressing the button that will take me to his apartment.
-***-
He swings open the door, his brow furrowed with worry. In a repeat of three weeks ago, I throw myself into his arms again, kissing him with fervor.
Except this time, his hands rest gently on my waist, caressing it softly. He seems to sense that something is wrong, and slows the kiss down, cupping my face and pulling away.
“Khushi? Are those… tear tracks? Is this because of Lav-”
I cut him off with another kiss, my hands resting at the nape of his neck, playing with the tiny hairs there. He tugs me closer into him, pulling my hips into his own. We break away, and I struggle to control my breathing.
“What happened?”
I’m not in a mood to answer him, even as his questioning, worried eyes chip away at my determination to keep the tears at bay. I let the desire cloud my brain, making me dizzy with want.
“I need you.”
My voice is breathless, laden with the passion pulsing through me. He gives me a smoldering look before lifting me in one quick move. I gasp in surprise as he takes me into his bedroom, the lights of the city reflecting beautifully onto the large glass windows.
He places me gently onto the satiny bedsheets, his eyes glimmering with an unbridled passion that I’ve never seen before. He quickly removes his clothing, sliding a condom on before leaning over me, kissing me softly.
His hands bury into my hair, combing through the thick strands and splaying them out across the pillow as he deepens the kiss. I open my mouth willingly, allowing our tongues to tangle together as I sink further into the bed.
My lips feel swollen and heavy when he pulls away, pressing soft kisses up my jaw. He trails feather light touches down my throat until he reaches the first button of my shirt. Glancing up at me, he unbuttons it, kissing the newly revealed skin.
He continues all the way down, kissing every portion of new skin as he unbuttons my shirt and pushes it off of my shoulders. His eyes darken when he sees the dark, navy bra I’m wearing and he kisses the spot between my cleavage.
He unclasps the bra, letting it fall open and tossing it into a corner. His eyes rest on my breasts, almost reverent as he leans back, simply taking me in. I feel myself flush under his burning gaze, tracing every inch of me as if he’s seeing me for the first time.
His eyes shift downwards towards my stomach, and I feel a wave of self consciousness overwhelm me. There’s enough light in the room for him to fully see me, a contrast from the usual dimness.
He’s ripped my clothes off of me enough times, but this new tenderness evokes completely different emotions in me. The realization that I’m a far cry from the flat-stomached models he’s dated in the past hits me hard, and I slide my arms across my body to hinder his gaze.
I’m not what society would classify as fat, but I’m not nearly as toned as his previous girlfriends have surely been. It hasn’t bothered him before, but the insecurity presses forward regardless.
He doesn’t say anything, only reaches for my arms and pulls them away. Before I can suck in my stomach, he leans down and kisses it gently, before sucking gently on the side of my hip.
He unbuttons my jeans, slowly sliding them down my legs with my underwear. His fingers graze my skin, making me shiver and moan low in my throat. His breath is hot against the inside of my thighs, and I clutch the sheets in my fist when he places a wet, open mouthed kiss on the inside.
I fully expect him to tease me as usual, avoiding the throbbing nub where I need him the most. But instead, he takes it in his mouth immediately, suckling and flicking his tongue against the tip.
I cry out, my unrecognizable moans echoing in the nearly silent room. He holds me down lightly as he continues to swirl his tongue around me in a torturous circle. The sensations rapidly reach a peak, and I don’t restrain the sobs of pleasure that shake me as he sends me over the edge.
Before I have time to come down, he flips us around, putting me on top of him. This position is hardly new for us, but today, it seems… intimate. My breasts brush his chest as we kiss again, this time in a passionate, demanding embrace.
I sink down onto him, taking him fully into me. His hands slide up my thighs, resting on my waist as we find a slow rhythm. The long, deep thrusts are completely different from our usual fast, hard sex, and it makes me feel pleasantly warm inside.
Our hips rock together, slapping against each other as our desperation to reach that peak reaches a high. My hair surrounds us, sticking to his skin as it becomes covered in a sheen of sweat.
He takes my breast in his mouth and suckles hard, and I dig my nails into his skin, the crescent shaped markings deep in his shoulders. The soft creaking of the bed and our moans of pleasure are the only thing breaking the silence, the fading light of the sun dimming the room.
I climax hard, clenching around him with a keening, loud cry as the sensations spiral around me. He presses forward, guiding me as he rapidly reaches his own peak, coming with a husky groan.
We slump against each other on the bed, his body cocooning me as I curl up into him. The warmth of his naked body lulls me into a deep sleep, and I throw my legs over him just as the sun sets.
-***-
I open my eyes slowly the next morning, the rays of the morning sun hitting me hard in the face. The distinct scent of dosa and filter coffee wafts into the room, and I inhale deeply, savoring the scent.
I lift myself out of the bed, and my body aches with the strain of last night. I look down, realizing that I’m completely naked, my clothes strewn about in the room. I reach for his shirt, looking around for my bra as I button it up.
It hangs past my thighs, covering me up sufficiently. I blush profusely, realizing that he’s seen me in much less anyway.
I can vaguely hear the sounds of low voices, and I brush it off as my drowsiness. I rub at my eyes, wincing as I pad quietly out of the room into the hallway.
“Arnav, where did you throw my bra last night? I can’t seem to…”
I trail off, absolutely horrified when I encounter not one, but three pairs of caramel eyes focused on me, along with a darker brown filled with amusement. My entire body flushes when I realize that Arnav and I are no longer… alone in the house, and I find myself facing his sister, brother-in-law, and nephew.
I flash my eyes up to Arnav, completely mortified at my current situation. But his face is impassive, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“Score, Mama!”
Anand’s higher voice pipes up, and he grins mischieviously as he lifts his hand to give Arnav a high five. Arnav turns a darker red, tentatively lifting an embarrassed hand to meet the smaller one.
“Arnav, aren’t you going to introduce us?”
Anjali’s smug voice floats out, and I’m struck by the resemblance between the siblings. She has the same, self satisfied grin as Arnav, and she smiles reassuringly at me. Behind her, her husband stands, clearly amused by the awkwardness in the room.
“Er, yeah. Khushi, this is my Di.”
I reach out my hand to shake hers, giving Anand a quick high five as I avoid Aman’s gaze.
“Di, this is Khushi. My… friend.”
-***-
Note: And that’s where I’ll leave you for now! *ducks chappals* All I will say is- don’t judge Arnav yet. He will voice his thoughts soon. Virtual cookies for anyone who can guess the reasoning behind my teaser! I’ll see you guys in two weeks.
As always, please follow @ipkchotidesi for update links, or follow this blog.
Love,
Choti
Note: Surprise! Warning, this is mature. Really mature. So please skip down to the first -***- if you’re uncomfortable. Otherwise… Read on!
-***-
He’s waiting for my answer, and I can feel his uncertainty. I’m grateful that he took the time to ask me whether this is okay with me, which is something I never would have expected someone like him to do.
I lean in, my lips hovering over his as I answer.
“Fuck me, Arnav.”
He groans, immediately taking my lips in a drugging, deep kiss as he sets me down gently, holding me up against the door as my knees threaten to give out.
My own confidence surprises me, but I completely give in to my desire, forcibly pushing logic out of my brain. I won’t back out of this, not now. I’m desperate to get rid of this tension between us, and I’m a slave to my own passion.
His kisses grow demanding, pulling my lips between his and sucking lightly. The heat of his body is searing through the thin v-neck I’m wearing, and my head spins with the sheer intensity of the passion between us.
His hands slide up my waist, pushing my shirt up and splaying out against the skin of my stomach. His thumbs brush the underside of my breasts, sliding underneath the cotton of my bra.
He moans, low and throaty at the feel of my breasts in his hands, rolling the tips between his fingers. I arch into his touch, my hips bucking against him. The grinding of my hips against his arousal makes him growl, and his hands slip to my lower back, tugging me sharply into him.
He nips at the skin on my neck, suckling it and swirling his tongue in a hot, wet pattern. My v-neck slides down, and he takes advantage, sinking his teeth into the soft skin of my cleavage. His fingers soothe the bites he places on the curve of my breast, and it’s unprecedented tenderness between the heady desperation of the moment.
I slide my hands down to the waist of his jeans, fumbling with the belt. I stroke him through the fabric, and he braces himself against the door, his palms placed flat on either side of my head.
I look up to see him staring at me with hooded, half lidded eyes, his face strained with the effort of keeping himself contained. I stroke him again, letting my fingers linger over him. He groans, a husky, guttural sound that makes the throbbing ache almost painfully intense.
“Khushi, if you keep doing that, I-”
He trails off when I tug down his zipper, the thin fabric of his boxers allowing my fingers to cup him more fully. His eyes close, and I feel his hands fist by my face as he grits his teeth.
He pries my fingers off of him as I begin to stroke more quickly, panting heavily. His eyes are dark with desire, and his hands shove my skirt roughly up my legs, caressing my legs with impatience.
His hands skim over the dampness of my sensible, cotton panties, and I can’t help but wish I had worn something sexier. He doesn’t seem to care though, and his hand presses more intensely against me, and I gasp when the heel of his hand grinds against the pulsing nub.
His eyes are focused on my face when he slides a finger into me, watching as my mouth falls open. I don’t even recognize the moans that spill from my lips as he dips inside of me again and again, making me writhe against the door. The hard grain of the wood rubs against my back as my shirt rides up, and I thrust my hips forward against his hand.
He brings me just to the edge, and I throw my head back as I brace myself against him. Just as I get close, he pulls himself out, and I whimper in despair. I wiggle my hips against his still hand, and he leans forward to take my lips in a passionate kiss, before pulling back.
His hands reach into his pockets, fumbling with his wallet as he pulls out a condom. He rips the packet open harshly in frustration, tugging the condom on with practiced ease. He pulls my legs around his waist, cupping my ass as he supports me against the door.
He pushes my ruined cotton panties aside, pressing the tip of himself inside of me. He suddenly freezes, his hands tightening on me. I’m confused by the sudden hesitation, and I turn a questioning gaze up to him.
“Khushi, is this your first…?”
The worry and tenderness in his eyes shocks me, and for a moment, I’m left speechless. I can see in his eyes that he’ll stop right now if I want him to, regardless of how turned on he is. He’s clearly struggling with the fact that my first could be in a closet, a desperate encounter that’s not the least bit filled with the tenderness it should have.
I smile at him reassuringly, lacing my hands behind his head to pull him into a soft kiss. I can’t express my gratitude in words, so I try to put every bit of it into the kiss. I pull back, reaching my hand down to take him into me.
“This isn’t my first, Arnav.”
His face relaxes, and he kisses me hard as he thrusts deeply into me. My cry of pleasure is swallowed by his kiss, and we pull back from the kiss, breathing heavily. I relish the feel of his hardness inside of me, the friction relieving the pulsing tension just a little bit.
He pulls out again, slamming into me with unexpected force. I clutch his shoulders as he repeats the motion, increasing pace and guiding my hips with his hands. My hips meet his every stroke, lifting off against the door.
I press kisses to the side of his neck, taking his earlobe into my mouth and sucking deeply. He swears thickly when my teeth graze the skin, resting his forehead against mine when I lean back.
The sensations begin to reach a head when his hand brushes against our point of connection, taking the aching peak between his fingers and stroking it sensually.
His light, teasing touch is too much for my overwhelmed body to take, and I bury my face into his shoulder as I come with a sob, the shudders shaking my body. He squeezes his eyes tightly shut as he pulses inside of me, sliding his hands up to the skin of my waist and digging his fingers in.
He sets me down on the floor, unwrapping my legs from his waist. I’m still trembling, and I’m gasping for breath. I can hear him struggle to steady his own breathing as he leans against the door, swallowing tightly.
“That was-”
“Yeah.”
Our eyes meet, and I’m forced to look away. The emotions swirling in both of our eyes is too much for me to handle at the moment.
I’m uncomfortably aware of my racing heartbeat, the blood pounding loudly in my ears. I had given in to the desire hoping that this would put an end to this, but I find myself longing for more. My traitorous body craves for his touch once more, for him to pull me into his arms and stroke me until I’m begging for him to take me again.
He’s facing away from me, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. When he turns back, a wall has fallen on his eyes, and his expression is unreadable.
I’m about to open my mouth when a sharp knock interrupts the moment. I hastily adjust my clothes, wincing when I realize that my lips are swollen, the dull ache of his marks reminding me of their presence.
“Arnav? Khushi? Are you guys in there?”
I glance at Arnav, but his eyes are still inscrutable. I swallow, my throat tight as I croak out a response.
The click of the keys unlocks the door, and the harsh light of the hallway makes me squint.
Arnav walks out silently ahead of me, his body taut with tension. NK looks after him curiously, before turning his gaze to me.
His eyes run quickly over my figure, pausing at the obvious beginning of a bruise on my neck. He opens his mouth to say something, before closing it, apparently thinking the better of it.
He walks away, leaving me alone in the middle of a drafty hallway.
I can’t help but wonder if I’ve made my biggest mistake yet.
-***-
I groan when I open my eyes, blearily looking up to see the blurry face of Payal. My entire body aches pleasantly, and I feel more satisfied than I have in a long time.
“You have a hickey on your neck. Spill. Now.”
“Why are you invading my house, Patel?”
“Because Akash has taken Piya out for a Daddy-Daughter date, and I could seriously use a day out. And by the looks of it, it’s perfectly timed too.”
She ignores my protests as she pushes me to the bathroom, handing me my concealer with a wink. I roll my eyes, quickly swiping a bit of kajal along my eyes and some concealer on the now dark bruise.
My hands still as I’m rubbing the concealer in, and the memories of earlier this morning are still vivid in my brain.
I can’t shake the feeling of his deep kisses, the skillful fingers that had me writhing underneath him in mere minutes. His aloof response after is jarring, and I stifle a groan as my headache returns full force.
“Khushi! Get out of the bathroom! Piya and Akash are only gone for a couple of hours, and I want to make the most of it!”
I amble out, and she drags me to the car. We pull up to our favorite coffee shop, and for good measure, I add an extra pump of chocolate syrup to my drink.
Payal cuts right to the chase when we sit down, eagerly pressing me for details.
“So spill. Who is this?”
My uncomfortable expression is enough to reveal the man, and she squeals like a teenage girl, clapping her hands.
“No way! You fucked Raizada? Was he as good as he claimed?”
I roll my eyes at her enthusiasm, and she giggles, my silence an admittance of the truth.
Sex with Arnav was the best sex I’ve ever had, and I can’t deny that fact. The memory of my peak brings the ache back between my legs, and I squeeze them together in an effort to tame the raging desire I feel without him even there.
“Are you two a thing then?”
“A thing? How old are you, thirteen?”
She raises an eyebrow at my avoidance, and I play with my cup of coffee, taking a long sip.
“I don’t know, Payal. It just sort of… Happened. I was tired of resisting him, and I thought it would make it go away.”
“But you want him more than ever, don’t you?”
I stare at my cup pointedly, examining it for nonexistent cracks. I’m unwilling to admit this out loud, but she seems to understand the unsaid words.
“Khushi, listen. It’s not bad to want someone. You’re 28, and you haven’t had a relationship since-”
“I know when my last relationship was, Payal. No need to remind me.”
My steely tone fails to deter her, and she presses on with the advice I don’t want to hear.
“You need this. You’ve got to let go yourself every once in a while, Khushi. God, when’s the last time you went out?”
“I’m happy, okay? I need to establish myself. I don’t have time to while away.”
“Khush, you’ve got to give yourself a break. You feel guilty, don’t you?”
“Don’t tell me what I feel, Payal! I know how I’m feeling, and I don’t need you to tell me. Stop trying to analyze me. I know you’re a psychologist and all, but I am not your patient.”
“When are you going to let yourself be happy?”
“Forgive me for not being little miss optimistic. I don’t have a chubby baby, I don’t have a husband. I’m 28, broke, and filming trashy TV. On top of that, the guy I have the best sex of my life with barely acknowledges me afterwards! I was supposed to be the successful one! So I’m sorry, but I think I’m entitled to be cynical.”
She regards me with knowing eyes, and I fidget in my seat. I hate her expression, and I don’t like the way she seems to be looking through me. She finally sighs defeatedly, and smiles brightly.
I exhale in relief as she chatters off on a tangent, relishing the chance to take my mind off of everything that’s happened.
I’ll deal with it later.
-***-
“Khushi? May I come in?”
I look up from my laptop to see Rajjo standing at the door, twisting her hands. The nervousness she’s displaying is something I’ve never seen from her, only having seen the confident, brash side.
I nod, and she steps in. NK is out for the weekend, and I’m sitting at work, making edits to the messy scenes. The show often goes so far off script that I often spent hours deliberating over which fights need to be included.
I look up at Rajjo expectantly, and she looks like she’s struggling to find words. She finally opens her mouth, sighing with determination before speaking.
“I’d like to quit.”
I have to restrain my mouth from falling open in shock. Of all of the things, this is the least expected.
“May I ask why?”
A soft, shy blush fills her cheeks, and I’m struck by how someone so brash can have a side to them that’s so delicate.
“I’m getting married. It’s from the boy I grew up with, and…”
She trails off, fiddling with her fingers bashfully. I can’t restrain the smile that takes over my face, and her stiff stance relaxes immediately.
“That’s great, Rajjo- congratulations! When is the wedding?”
“In a year or so. We decided we would like to spend some time as an engaged couple before we actually get married.”
“I’m very happy for you. Although, I hope you know that we’ll have to come up with something less sensible to explain your leaving.”
I smile wryly, and she smiles back at me, clearly much more relaxed than when she walked in. Despite her domineering, muscular frame, love seems to have softened her harshness, and I find that the changes suit her.
I hand her the forms to fill out for her resignation from the show. Her words stick with me long after she leaves, and I find myself thinking about my relationship with Arnav.
Arnav and I haven’t spoken since our encounter three days ago, largely because of the break we’ve taken from shooting. Despite this, the discomforting need for him has not gone away.
If anything, it’s even stronger.
I had thought that sex with Arnav would make me forget everything, and that my moment of careless passion would fix the emotions that threaten to overturn the careful balance I’ve set.
But I was wrong.
I recall Payal telling me that I need to let go, and allow myself to be happy. The sight of Rajjo’s joy at her new engagement makes me crave something similar, and I’m shocked by my sudden need for something I can’t quite place my finger on.
The memory of the overpowering chemistry between Arnav and me makes my fists clench. I swallow thickly, closing my eyes as I struggle to decide on how to mitigate the consequences of my actions.
I stride purposefully out of the office before I can go back on my decision, moving almost mechanically. I don’t realize what I’m doing until I’ve lifted my fist to his door, rapping sharply.
I realize I have no idea what I plan to say, and the overwhelming desire to run away courses through my veins, but the door swings open before I can flee.
At that moment, I’m left speechless.
He’s standing in front of me, clad in only a fluffy white towel that soaks up the water dripping down his body.
Damn him.
-***-
Note: I updated today because I’m leaving for another four day trip, and won’t have access to my computer. Looking ahead, I will be overseas between July 4-14, without a laptop. I don’t know if I’ll be able to update, and I would like to hit a particular point in the story before I leave.
As always, please follow @ipkchotidesi for update links, or follow this blog. I’m posting both here and on IF, and commenting on either is welcome. Happy reading!
Love always,
Choti
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