#lehenga dream

[samkkshopping]

Fashion Show Bangalore, India Lehengas, Sarees and Sherwani

Samyakk clothing is a one stop destination for ethnic wear requirements. We have our store located at Richmond Road, Bangalore. Our collections include vast varieties of women's wear and men's wear ranging from bridal lehengas, ethnic gowns, evening gowns, sarees, saree blouses, salwars, men's sherwani, men's suit, men's kurta and much more! You can also buy all our collections online at www.samyakk.com. Cash on delivery. Easy returns.

World Wide Free shipping.🛒

____ ____

Name: Samyakk Clothing

Email: Esales@samyakk.com

PH: 7829928490

Main Website: https://www.samyakk.com/

Lehenga: https://www.samyakk.com/lehenga Saree: https://www.samyakk.com/sarees Salwar Kameez: https://www.samyakk.com/salwar-kameez Gown: https://www.samyakk.com/gowns Mens Wear: https://www.samyakk.com/men-s-wear

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Store Address : Samyakk No.24, D’Souza Circle, Richmond Rd, Bengaluru, Karnataka 560047

[cosmicrhetoric]

something really interesting is happening to the south asian diaspora rn i dont even have the right words to talk about this. but in the last five years theres this like......2nd gen industry popping up? like where i grew up had an extremely high population of south asian immigrants so i never wanted for choice when i bought indian goods anyway but now im seeing all these online brands. started by 2nd gen. that focus on a luxury shopping experience for desi clothes and jewelry and skincare and makeup and im not saying it's a bad thing (especially because im struggling to even express why i feel so strangely about it) but idk. i think i just wonder if we're gonna have to deal with classism part two between people who use the $100+ dollar ranavat hair oil and the people who use the amla oil u can buy at ur local south asian grocery for 6 bucks

[featheredclover]

Carmine Veils

Chapter Nine

Read from the beginning

Also on Wattpad

Chapter Eight > < Chapter Ten

The sapphire blue brooch shone against her hair. 

Her eyes shone with the kohl lining them.

“Payal, that’s enough rose on my cheeks”

“Nonsense, Rajkumari! You are meeting your warrior china-man after days! You need to look your best.”

Khushi bit her tongue. Payal didn’t need to know her china-man hadn’t let her sleep all night. She definitely didn’t need to know how he made her muffle her screams just before dawn arose.

She blushed helplessly and fervently hoped they didn’t notice.

“ Everyone knows “

Khushi looked up, completely bewildered.

“ About Aravind and Ratna Raizada. Apparently they were legends in our court. They were the voice of the common man. The army flourished under him! Ratna ji ensured that the widows of the soldiers are well provided for, till this day!” Lavanya spoke, while donning on a pair of pearl earrings.

“Really?”

“ Yes! People are very happy that their son is finally here. And Ratna ji might finally be back with them. “

“ The kingdom missed them.” Khushi said softly.

“The brave ones of the Gupta kingdom are never forgotten. They flourish in our hearts forever.” Manorama joined them with a smile.

The girls stood up, surprise clouding their eyes.

“ I am happy today! The man I had so much doubts about, has proved himself to be the diamond of our kingdom.” Here, her eyes settled on Khushi with an all knowing gaze.

Payal excitedly began asking about the mysterious Raizadas.

Khushi looked beyond her chamber’s windows. 

How greatly did the Raizadas suffer for this land and its people? 

Her heart painfully sank in her chest as she thought of how Arnav’s childhood in the motherland was snatched away.

“Rajkumari , the victory banquet is on its way. We must make an entrance before the Maharaj “

————

Trumpets blared. Colours emerged. Rows of decked up elephants and horses lined the pathway to the banquet hall.

She could hear the roar of laughter from afar. Her pace quickened at the anticipation of seeing Arnav. 

Khushi felt different today. She knew all about the art of lovemaking. But when it finally happened, she couldn’t help but be overwhelmed. He is to be blamed, she thought impishly. Who gave him the right to be so…so smug?

“Rajkumari “

She looked up into Payal’s eyes, which were filled with amusement.

“We have arrived “

“ I know “Khushi replied haughtily in an attempt to cover up her day dreaming.

Payal let out a mocking scoff.

Just then, Chandragupta arrived with his ever present genial smile. Without a moment wasted, he ushered them towards their seats.

———-

A regal woman sat up on the marble stage, her wrinkles adorning her twinkling eyes, beside her father. 

She had an uneasy feeling that she was being scrutinised by the two. Sipping her glass of sherbet, she averted her eyes to the soldiers. She hadn’t even had a glimpse of him today. Her spirit dropped with such misery , only a lover’s heart could tolerate it .

Payal nudged her sharply.

“ See him?”

She looked in the direction of a tall man, who sat quite awkwardly as he laughed with his fellow soldiers.

“ I am going to marry him”

Khushi spluttered in shock. Keeping her goblet down, she whispered angrily,

“ How could you not tell me you had fallen in love?”

“ What rubbish! I saw him just now”

“ You haven’t even talked to him once and your heart is set on marrying him?”

“ Sometimes you just know Khushi, “ Payal sighed .

“Look at him, he is so shy. I will suit him perfectly!”

Shaking her head, Khushi went back to attending her meal.

“ Rajkumari?” Chandragupta had arrived at their table.

“ Maharaj wishes for your presence “

“Chandragupta ji! “ Payal piped in. 

“ Who is that man?”

“Akash. A fine soldier. And please, no scandal before the evening ends, Payal bitiya.” He said with a wink.

“ No promises ! “ she quipped back.

Khushi laughed.

Poor Akash! 

She arranged her elaborate lehenga and headed towards the steps leading to the stage. 

She had just reached it when she saw the man, whose thoughts had been haunting her. His brown eyes glittered as it skimmed over her. Suddenly she was glad Payal had painstakingly beautified her.

Arnav stood tall and proud beside the woman Khushi saw earlier.

Ratna Raizada 

Clutching her skirt, Khushi attempted to keep her nerves at bay. 

Folding her hands in a greeting , she smiled nervously at the woman.

“Khushi” her father’s booming voice startled her. 

“ This is our dearest Ratna ji I have told you about. Well, no matter how little you know about her. She knows much about you.” Shashidhar laughed.

Confused, Khushi turned towards Arnav, who avoided her eyes and had a curious flush up his neck.

“ I…I don’t understand “

Warm hands clasped her own, as she met Ratna’s kind eyes.

“ Well we have an eternity for that Khushi! You are just as beautiful as Garima! Shashi told me so much about your skills at war, but left out your beauty in his letters “

Khushi smiled. There were so many questions swarming her mind. But for now the moment of meeting someone who talked of her mother, without the usual pity, was too magical to let go.

“ Come on now. The evening must go on” Shashi laughed.

Her father stood looking over the merriment.

The drum gongs . Once, twice, thrice.

A palpable silence filled the air.

“ My brave soldiers and their courageous families who have gathered here. I am so proud and humbled by your feats in the field. The rebellion which began with the death of innocents has ended with the forgiving of prisoners. The people are celebrating their safety and freedom. And it is all owed to you. You, my brave soldiers!”

A deafening cheer followed.

“ I cannot mention our victory while overlooking this young man, who had risked his life to ensure the win was certain. Many of you young ones wouldn’t know the name Aravind Raizada. But he is the one who wrote the rules and lessons you follow by heart. The first man in the Gupta kingdom who organised our armed forces. And a dearest friend of mine.”

Khushi sneaked a glance at Arnav. The solemn look in his eyes and Ratna ji’s wistful smile moved her to tears.

“ I present to you, his son Arnav Raizada! Arnav is trained in the 14 vidyas and 64 kalas from the famed land of China. I am sure his views and skills will bring forth change in our defence strategies.”

Whistles and hooting boomed through the hall.

“And it pleases me beyond measure to announce today the betrothal of my daughter, Rajkumari Khushi Gupta to Arnav Raizada”

Khushi froze. Blood rushed through her ears, as the applause dimmed. Her shocked eyes met Arnav’s. His assuring smile calmed her racing heart.

Before she knew it, her father clasped her and Arnav’s hand together.

She saw the glee on everyone’s face. Payal winked at her. Lavanya smiled. Manorama ji clapped vigorously.

Still numb at the pace of the events, Khushi found her anchor in the long,sturdy fingers which entwined themselves around her own, lending her strength.

————-

Engulfed by the crowd, she smiled at the congratulations, the warm wishes and the love she received. Her mind was still buzzing. And she knew the one who could answer her questions was going to be occupied for hours now.

Engaged. To Arnav.

She pinched herself discreetly as she sat beside a smirking Payal.

“Don’t worry. It is real. No one will steal your warrior from you now.”

“ What just happened, Payal?”

“ Your wish came true, “ she said with a broad grin.

Payal was right. She wanted to be with Arnav for the rest of her life.

And yet, the unknown wasn’t letting her rest her tired heart.

She found herself catching her breath the next moment as Arnav slipped into the seat beside her. 

Determined, she leaned sideways, and whispered into his ear,

“ The corridor behind the third door. Five minutes “

————

Strong footsteps echoed in the dingy corridor while the merriment continued on inside.

“Rajkumari “ Arnav called out with an unholy smirk.

“Wha-?”

His arm snaked around her waist before she was slammed against him. Their breaths met, and their lips parted.

“I want to know s-something”

“Ask me”

“You knew about the betrothal?”

“No. My ma was writing to Maharaj. And she did speak about you to me. But I had dismissed it back then. I never wanted to get married. And today both of them sprung it upon us. I am sorry Khushi, they should have-”

“What made you change your mind?” She interrupted.

Arnav looked at her for a moment as if he was thinking about it just now.

“ I realised I could kill any other man, who dares to get close to you, with my bare hands. That’s reason enough, don’t you think?”

He silenced her laughter with a clumsy kiss.

The goblets clinked, the plates chimed and the music strummed as they celebrated the union of lovers of the land.

Tagging: @arshifiesta

—————

Next chapter >>>

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

Please let me know if you want to be added / removed from the tag list ❤️

[bookish-cravings]

You guys have no idea how desperately I want them to put Aryan in traditional Desi bridal wear for season 2, absolutely none

Like, imagine Percy blinking into consciousness in his dreams only to see Grover wearing this elaborate red lehenga with all this ornate detailing, a dupatta over his head and matching chudiyaan that clink together everytime he moves his arms

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Art References for Chapter One of underneath the sunrise (show me where your love lies)

(aka this is the nerdiest thing I've done for this fandom)

Landscape with the Fall of Icarus, Pieter Bruegel the Elder, c. 1560

"Monty didn’t know what it felt like to fly through the air, the wind between your wings, the sun kissing your skin, until now. He didn’t know what it felt like for the wax to burn away and melt itself into your skin, searing your flesh, until now.

And he didn’t know why anyone would risk such a thing until now.

Until them."

The Two Fridas, Frida Kahlo, 1939

"How the fuck is Monty supposed to reply when he finally has the thing that he’s ached for so long and he can’t even enjoy it? When his heart is ratcheting up his throat, a ticking time bomb that Frida Kahlo would adore?"

Garden of Earthly Delights, Hieronymous Bosch, 1490-1510

"Monty is being torn apart in the hell panel of the Garden of Earthly Delights. He is some abomination that Bosch dreamed up to fill the inferno, to be tortured for all eternity, because both of the only two things that Monty has ever loved are being ripped from his trembling fingers by his mother and used against him, just because she can’t handle the fact that he wanted something, anything, to call his own."

Textiles of South Asia (Fictional Exhibit, but here are photos of the clothing in question)

"But mostly, Monty spent his time drinking in Edwin’s knowledge, the way that that he went into professor-mode when explaining the symbolism behind certain artworks. Monty devoured the bits about artwork that Charles knew about, like a discussion in the Textiles of Southern Asia special exhibit where Monty had the privilege of seeing Charles get excited explaining the differences and purposes of lehengas and saris and sherwanis. The way that though they were surrounded by masterpieces, all Monty could stare at is the two muses in the middle of the room, holding hands, more breathtakingly beautiful than any of the painting surrounding them."

Lehenga

Sari (Maharashtraian sari)

Sherwani (Painting of the last Nizam of Hyderabad)

Snow Storm, J. M. W. Turner, 1842

"His fingers catch under Monty’s jaw, guiding Monty’s mouth to his like a brushstroke of lightning hitting the mast of a J. M. W. Turner ship, all storm, all sensation"

I will post another archival set for chapter 2- we've got plenty more coming!

@deadboy-edwin @icecreambrownies @anonymousbooknerd-universe @ashildrs

@tragedy-machine @just-existing-as-you-do-blog @orpheusetude @mj-irvine-selby

@pappelsiin @itsbitmxdinhere @rexrevri @sweet-like-h0ney-lavender @saffirez

@the-ipre @sunnylemonss @days-light @agentearthling @helltechnicality

@sethlost @catboy-cabin @secretlyafiveheadeddragon @vyther15

@anything-thats-rock-and-roll @queen-of-hobgobblers @every-moment-a-different-sound

@nix-nihili @mellxncollie @tumblerislovetumblerislife @lemurafraidofthunder

@likemmmcookies @wr0temyway0ut

[boobo13cambridge]

🌹 Masterlist 🌹

Kylian Mbappé 🇫🇷

Fics

Cliché? Most definitely. | Kylian Mbappé

Genre:  Strangers to Lovers AU | Romance | Angst | Fluff | Smut

Summary: Once upon a time, there lived a girl who couldn't figure out her life and a boy who had the world at his feet. Neither had time for love, and both were absolutely miserable with their current predicaments. As the saying goes, expect the unexpected. Cliché? Most definitely. Does Lady Faith care? Not one bit. These types of stories have always been her cup of tea. At this point, all there is left to do is send a quick prayer that these two don’t get dragged to hell and back to satisfy an ancient deity’s hunger for drama. Alas, the odds don’t look promising. It’s been a while since Lady Faith personally took an interest in two young mortals' lives. The last time she was so meddlesome was with a certain singer and an athlete. What a disaster that was. Now, Faith looked at her two protagonists, and with a quick smirk, let history write itself. 

Chapitre Un. Rien autour n'a de sens

The Summer We Were Young | Kylian Mbappé

Genre:  Strangers to Lovers AU| Romance | Comedy | Fluff | Of course, it has to be angsty | Smut

Summary: Once upon a time, there lived a young woman named Naaz who couldn’t wait to get the hell out of her parent’s house and jet set to the French Riviera to live out her hot girl summer dreams. Tired, burnout, and angry against the world, she decides to be selfish for once and books a ticket to the beautiful city of Nice.

Unfortunately for her, things never seem to work in her favour. Along the way, she meets the most infuriating man in the world who seems to make it his life goal to make her blood boil and her generationally acquired anger issues to resurface landing her in the most precarious situations. On his behalf, Kylian was just trying to have a good time and forget about the disastrous season he just had. Dealing with loss after loss, the world-famous footballer just wanted to catch a break as he faced great uncertainty regarding his future. Get ready to follow Naaz and Kylian as they prepare to face a summer that will change their lives forever. 

Chapter One. Ridin' in the drop-top with the top down

Requests

Ay, Ay, Captain | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: Y/N watches as Kylian play and lead his team to victory at Stade Bollaert-Delelis, feeling proud and overwhelmed. Five goals in one game? Surely, he served something special for such a feat, non?

Honeymoon | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: After an eventful journey, you and Kylian finally get to relax on your afternoon.

Meilleur buteur | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: Kylian becomes Paris Saint-Germain's all-time top scorer. You couldn't be any prouder of your other half.

Somebody to Lean On | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: After being eliminated from the Champions League, you join Kylian while he channels his frustrations into working out hours after the training session is over. 

Magic Kingdom | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: After spending the day at Disneyland Paris with his niece and nephew, Kylian wants to start a family with you

Hold On, We’re Going Home | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: After attending a charity event with Kylian, who looked dashing in his black suit, you feel particularly needy. Once you arrive home, you realize he hungered for you just as much. 

Unexpectedly Expecting | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: After feeling unusually exhausted and nauseous during your weekly gym dates, you find out some really happy news

O Re Piya | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: It’s the day of your brother’s wedding, and you're running late. The main culprit: your handsy husband who can’t seem to control himself seeing you in a lehenga. 

A Mother's Remedy | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: You fall asleep on Kylian after spending the whole day taking care of the triplets who had the flu.

I’ll take care of you | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: Kylian is feeling stressed as the news that he will not be extending with PSG comes out. He seeks comfort in you. 

Send That Picture Promise I'm A Keep It | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: What’s it like texting when your husband is a really busy athlete? 

Drifting Apart | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: Y/N and Kylian’s relationship is crumbling as they navigate the most difficult moments of their lives. Will they stay or fall apart due to the pressure?

↳ Part I

Sheila Ki Jawani | Kylian Mbappé

Summary: Y/N is late and Kylian decides to teach her a lesson about tardiness.

Kim Namjoon 🇰🇷

Comfort| Kim Namjoon

Summary: After reading an article about your boyfriend Namjoon's personal information being tracked, you feel quite angry and the only thing you can do is comfort him.

Tom Riddle 🐍

The Heir and His Son | Tom Riddle Sr and Tom Riddle Jr

Summary: Tom Riddle Sr raises his son and it makes all the difference.

↳ Chapter One

↳ Chapter Two

[kaelily]

.°•✿ desi!kaeya brainrot

reader wears feminine stuff, no prns mentioned & can be of any race

✿ ok first of all, he looks like he straight up jumped out of a bollywood movie. he has a unique kind of charm and carries himself with so much elegance that makes you gravitate towards him. was definitely flirty during the courting stage, but also incredibly respectful to you. he considers himself the luckiest man in the world after you started dating him officially.

✿ aunties totally fawn over you when kaeya brings you along to the wedding ceremonies he was invited to (he loves to show you off). it makes him very proud when they tell him how good the both of you look together. when the wedding party begins later in the evening, he asks for a dance while holding a rose in his mouth

✿ kaeya adores it when you wear traditional clothes, whether its a churidar, lehenga or a saree, he loves them all. he will stand behind you to gently part your hair to pin the jasmine flowers onto it while holding a U pin with his mouth and winks when you make eye contact with him in the mirror. he likes the way you get flustered when he kneels in front of you to adjust the ends of your saree and gives you a kiss on the forehead when he gets up. he looks really handsome in a sherwani and lets be honest he would wear a saree too and look great in it

✿ he's not the greatest cook, so he regularly requests auties to teach him the basics so that he can cook roti, curry and biriyani for you. it boosts his ego whenever you tell him how delicious his cooking is. he hopes that he can cook for your parents too when he meets them.

✿ he dreams of marrying you in a traditional desi altar decorated with flowers. he's craving to see you in beautifully designed wedding wear, taking your hand in his to do the saat phere around the sacred fire and applying sindoor on your forehead. he would call you his spouse with the utmost pride in his voice.

divider crdt : @/divvision ; pictures from pinterest

@aimynx 👀

[krishna-sangini]

The Sakha

You are walking in a grass meadow. You are on a trip to Vrindavan with your family, but your smart-ass self decided to trail off a bit and got lost. You are, thus, walking in a grass meadow now with the fact that today is your last day in the adobe of the Makhan Chor. You are lost, alone, and with no cell phone network, but you aren’t scared. You keep wandering, looking for a house to get help. Before you know it, the sun is at the horizon. This is when you start panicking as it sets in that you are ­alone with no cell phone service.

You start hearing an unfamiliar yet homely tune out of the blue. It is that of a flute. Your tensed muscles immediately relax and you feel the distress draining out of your body. Like in a trance, you begin following the melody hoping to find its source. Your legs carry you to a huge kadamba tree; its trunk is dark and gigantic, and its branches are sleek, swaying in the cool breeze as if welcoming you home. The flute tune is coming from behind the tree. You go around it slowly, not knowing what to expect.

“Keshav! I really need you to come see me now. Please, come visit me just once. Come visit me in the roop that you showed your sakhis. You asked me to come to see you at your home; I came. Look, Keshav! I’m right here. I came as promised. Now it’s your turn to keep your promise. Come see me, Keshav. Please…”

The words that you uttered in front of the Krishna murti in Prem Mandir echo in your mind. Just then, as you go around the tree to the other side, you see a boy sitting under it. He seems a couple of years older than you; dark-skinned, draped in yellow garments, adorned with golden armlets and a pearl necklace which you are shocked to see, and a peacock feather in His yellow headband. His lotus-like feet are decorated with alta and His lips rest on a magnificent flute. As He blows into the instrument, the enchanting music embraces you soothingly. Your eyes well up as you clutch your dupatta over your heart. You aren’t the least bit curious about how your pair of black jeans and oversized hoodie transformed into an elegant peacock blue lehenga. You don’t know when you raised your hands and twirled with the tunes of the flute. You have no idea when you started dancing with the kadamba tree's branches to the flute's tunes.

Your senses return to you when the flute melody fades away. You abruptly stop dancing, looking around with a baffled expression. Your eyes fall on the beautiful flute boy staring at you with adoring eyes. You feel your cheeks burning as you bring down your hands and start playing with your fingers nervously with an embarrassed smile. "You dance really well, sakhi!" He says as He tucks his flute into His waistband. His deep soothing voice causes your dammed tears to spill out of your eyes as your legs start shaking. It is then that it struck you. ‘No, it can’t be. He is probably just a cosplayer. I hope he isn’t though…’ You say to yourself as you wipe your tears hastily. “Well, is that who you think I am?” says the boy again, chuckling as He stretches His arms and gets up, “Too bad; guess I haven’t charmed you enough.”

You stand rooted to your spot. You look at your hands grabbing your lehenga. You look at your sparkling blue bangles which you definitely didn’t put on. You look at the jingling anklets adorning your feet which you definitely didn’t buy. Your words from Prem Mandir echo in your mind once again. Your eyes widen as you look into the boy’s eyes.

“Keshav…” you mutter, tears pooling in your eyes yet again as your legs give out. But you didn’t crash onto the hard ground; a pair of strong arms caught you gently. You open your eyes to see Him staring at you with the same doting eyes. “Kanha…” you whisper once again as you raise your hand to touch His face, to make sure you aren’t dreaming. He is real, He is right there; your fingers brush against His tender skin as His smile grows wider.

“Yes, sakhi. It’s me. You called for me. You asked me to come see you and I came. I’m finally here, sakhi,” He says, carrying you to the kadamba tree and propping you up against its trunk. He then settles beside you.   You’re still in disbelief, but a sudden wave of euphoria washes over you as you let out a cry and fall at His feet. You are now a crying mess, wiping your tears hastily with one hand and resting your other hand on His lotus-like feet. In between your sobs, you manage to mutter, “Keshav… You really came… Thank you… Thank you, my Lord!”

He smiles a genuine and divine smile. Then, with one hand He takes yours from His feet, and with the other hand, He gently lifts your chin to make you look at Him. He then wipes your tears and says, “No, sakhi. Don’t cry. Don’t cry for me. I don’t want any of my sakhis to cry for me anymore. I’ve already done enough.”

A hint of sadness crosses his face, but He quickly regains composure and looks at you with those same fond eyes. Your eyes well up yet again as you stare into His deep brown orbs with a smile. You then lower your head with a chuckle as you blink away the tears. You look up again at Him and then shift your gaze to your intertwined hands. He follows your gaze and tightens His grip on your hand as He pulls you closer to Him. “Sakhi?” called your Keshav. “Yes, Keshav?” you reply.

"Uh-huh. Call me sakha. Just the way you love it when I call you ‘sakhi’, I too love it when you call me ‘sakha’.” You hesitate. Yes, you did call Him ‘sakha’ sometimes while talking to His charming idol back in your room every single day. But here He is for real now. You are afraid that you’ll sin for thinking of yourself to be able enough to make Him your sakha, your friend. “He is the supreme God, Baanhi, not your friend. You can’t talk to Him like that.”

Your mother’s disapproving words flash in your mind as fear starts consuming you. You attempt to withdraw your hand from His grasp but He tightens His grip further while laughing. “Arrey, sakhi!” He says as He puts your hand over His heart, “Do you feel it? Do you feel my heart beating?” You relax as you feel the vibrations from His heart rejuvenating your body. “Yes, Keshav. I do,” you reply, leaning slightly on the tree trunk. The Manmohan then takes your other hand and places it over your heart.

“Now, can you feel your heart beating?” He questions, the loving smile never leaving His face. You close your eyes for a moment as you think “For you and because of you…” “Yes, Keshav,” you say aloud. He chuckles before saying, “Aww, you’re distracting me with your sweet words, sakhi!” You lower your gaze and blush knowing very well that He’s listening to all your thoughts. “Now,” He starts again, “do you feel our heart beating?”

You do. Your heartbeat seems to merge into His; both your hearts beat as one. “Yes, sakhi. Our hearts beat as one. I am you. You are me. Your maiyaa is right to some extent. I am the Almighty, yes. But I am also your friend, your sakha,” said the Giridhar as He took both your hands in His and turned to face you, causing you to face Him as well.

“Call me, sakhi,” He says, gazing deep into your eyes.

“Keshav?” you say, sounding uncertain. He tsk-tsked and says “Nooo! What did I ask you to call me earlier?”

You hesitate again for a moment, but you say it this time, "Sakha..."

He closes His eyes and lets out a sigh. A smile of contentment spreads on His lips. He lets go of your right hand and turns to lean on the tree’s huge trunk, His hand still holding your other one. You too lean on the tree trunk. Your mind is at peace; the only thought filled in there is of the Natnaagar sitting beside you. “Why do you love me so much, sakhi?” asked your sakha, turning His head to look at you. No words leave your mouth as you try to figure out the answer to His question. You just look at His charming face as thoughts start clouding your mind.

Why do you love Him, again? You don’t even know it yourself. You just love Him. You never needed a reason to love Him or never found a reason to not love Him. So, you just loved Him. You love Him for His divinity, His charisma, His supremacy, and His valor. You love Him for His love, His affection, His smile, and His laughter. You also love Him for His naughtiness, His childish self, His carefreeness, and His innocent love. You can’t point out a single reason for loving Him, and can’t mention all of them too. You look away, unable to find a particular answer to the question posed by your Keshav.

After a while, you sense His gaze on you. So you turn to your left only to find Him staring at you with innocent overwhelmed eyes. You feel tears pooling in your eyes; His eyes glaze over too.

“I don’t deserve this, sakhi… I don’t deserve all this love. Not after what I did to them… Not after how I left them-” His words are cut short as you put your free hand over His lips. His eyes widen a bit from your sudden action as you say, “Don’t you dare, Keshav... Don’t. You. Dare speak like that about my sakha.”

He gently takes your hand from over His lips revealing a sad smile. He then looks into your eyes as He says, “You don’t know me, sakhi. No one does…”

“Well, I know you enough. Enough to know that you pained yourself a lot more for hurting your sakhis. You tortured yourself every single day while showing your mohak smile to the world. You could’ve said one last goodbye, but you didn’t. And I know you enough to know that it must’ve freaking hurt. You hurt yourself knowingly. I’m a mere human so I don’t want to know the reason behind this; it must have been for the greater good which I will never be able to comprehend. But you hurt them, Keshav! You hurt yourself!” Your words fade into silent sobs as you free both your hands from His grasp. You turn away, your back to Him, as you clutch your knees close to your chest and rest your head on them while crying silently.

“You’re so mean, Keshav… So mean… I hate you for that… I hate you for hurting yourself… So mean…” you mutter in between your sobs.

A few moments pass by in silence. You hear sniffles behind you before feeling a pair of arms turning you to face your back to the tree trunk again. You feel Him removing your knees from the grasp of your hands and setting your feet straight out in front of you. You quickly wipe your tears with your hands and look straight, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Are you mad at me, sakhi?” He asks, attempting to take your hand in His. You let Him but still don't look at Him. He intertwines His fingers with yours and squeezes your hand softly.

“Take a guess,” you say, squeezing back His hand and leaning your head on His shoulder. He smiles and rests His head on top of yours. “Yes, very much. You’re burning with rage now. I could turn to ashes because of that heat!” He says with a dramatic gasp. Both of you burst into laughter. Your sakha takes His peacock feather from His headband and puts it on your palm. You look at Him with questioning eyes.

“Consider this a return gift, sakhi. For these,” He says, pointing at His pearl necklace. That is the one that you offered to His murti in Prem Mandir. “Are we trading here?” you say with mock anger. “Arrey baba, okay. Keep it as a token of my love,” He says with a chuckle. “Now that is better,” you smile, taking the elegant feather to your lips and kissing it. His smile grows wider at your action.

“Keshav?” you call. “Hmm?” comes his reply. “Promise that you’ll never leave me…’’ you say, tightening your grip on His hand. He does the same before saying, “Sakhi, I’ve never left you, nor do I ever intend to do so.” You sigh as your body relaxes. All of this feels like a dream, too beautiful to be true. “This isn’t a dream, sakhi!” said Shyam with mock anger. Even if this is a dream, you don’t want to wake up; you would rather dream all your life. You don’t want this moment to end; you want to live in it forever. “That’s not possible, priye. What has started is bound to have an end someday,” the Murari beside you says as He, out of the blue, gently pulls you into a hug.

You are suddenly drowned by a mammoth wave of supreme bliss. Tears flood your eyes, every single worry leaves your mind, and you feel like the happiest person in the world. You wrap your arms tightly around His muscular frame, crying into His chest. He gently strokes your hair, not minding the tiniest bit about your tears drenching His pitamber.

“I love you, sakha…” you whisper, still not letting go. “I love you more, sakhi,” He replies, tightening His arms around you. “No, you don’t!” You exclaim, breaking the hug abruptly. Your unexpected action causes the Banwari to flinch.

“I’ll always love you more than you love me. You are omnipresent, omnipotent, and the omniscient Parmatma, yes. But I’m your sakhi. So, you can never love me more than I love you, okay?” You say, ending your words with a chuckle. “You are so unpredictable, priye,” says your Kanha, laughing as He puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to Him.

Suddenly, you hear a distant familiar voice calling you, “Baanhi! Aye Baanhi!” You furrow your eyebrows as you jerk your head to look at your Madhav. “What is this, Keshav?” you question, beginning to panic. The Manohar gives you a sad smile as He speaks, “It’s time to part for now, sakhi.” Your eyes widen at His words as you grab His hand, “N-no, Keshav! You can’t leave me yet! You promised you would never leave me! We just met! We haven’t even talked properly yet! You can’t leave me, Keshav!”

Tears run down your cheeks for the umpteenth time as you grab His other hand too and look into His desolate yet charming eyes. “It’s not like we’re never meeting again, sakhi. I’ll see you soon again, I promise. Very soon…” He says, His eyes on the peacock feather lying on your lap. “Baanhi beti, wake up!” You hear the voice getting louder.

“NO!” You scream. Your eyes peel open as you sit up with a start. You are in your room, lying on your bed in the same peacock blue lehenga that you had gotten hand-stitched from a cloth piece that had mysteriously landed on your doorstep labelled as ‘A special something for Baanhi’. It wasn’t suspicious when the package arrived; your family has been celebrating your CUET result for a fortnight now. So, naturally, you had thought that the package was a gift from one of your relatives. Back in the present, your mother is beside your bed, looking at you with worried eyes as she speaks, “What’s the matter, beti? You fell asleep a few moments after putting on your new lehenga. Did you have a nightmare?”

You regain your senses. Your face is tear-stricken, and your eyes are red. You recall everything that had happened to you in the past moments.

Tears pool in your eyes again as you reply to your mother, “No, mama. It was the opposite. I had a really beautiful dream. Now can you please move out of the room so I can change out of this?”

Your mother patted your head and exited your room. You finally set free those tears of frustration as you let out a bitter laugh, saying, “That liar! So this was a dream, after all. Huh! What was I even expecting?”

You wipe your tears with annoyance before getting out of bed. Suddenly, you feel something brush against your feet. You look down to see a peacock feather lying on the floor. Your heart skips a beat as you freeze on your spot.

It’s the same one… But you aren’t ready to listen to yourself. Not after what happened. So, you pick it up and rush out of your room to your mother. “Mama!” you call. “Yeees?” comes your mother’s reply from the living room couch. “Did you keep this peacock feather on my bed?” you ask urgently, showing her the feather. “Umm… no? I don’t remember doing that...” says your mom after examining the feather.  

Your mind goes blank for a second, and the next moment, it’s filled with unprecedented joy. You don’t care if you’re hallucinating or just being delusional; your sakha actually visited you!

“Also, Baanhi, I have really good news,” says your mother with a playful tone. “What is that?” you ask, unable to stop smiling. “We’re going to Vrindavan!!!” exclaims your mother, sitting straight on the couch. Your eyes widen, and your heart starts beating faster. A gasp leaves your mouth as you cover it with both your hands. Your eyes glaze over as you run into your mother’s arms. “Thank you, mama! Thank you so very much!” You cry, hugging her tighter. Your mother simply smiles, stroking your hair.

“See you again in a little while, sakha…”

[mahi-wayy]

I had a dream that.................. Prabhas is my cross cousin?!? (Who u can marry in some parts of South India and is called Mama in Tamil and Bava in telugu) And he loves me?!? And helped me with my lehenga choli?!? When we were in a temple with me holding some plate with offering to a god?!? And we both got married in the temple itself suddenly?!? And I woke up and have been smiling and blush since I woke up?!?😭

I found the cousin marriage thing all awkward but talk about man of your dreams girl 😭🤚🏻

[samkkshopping]

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[accio-sabrina]

My dream in life is to settle in a serene haveli in the Indian countryside, decorate it with grand chandeliers, dress in elegant lehengas with ornate jewellery, and become part of the local folklore.

[kepamount]

part thirty-seven - dream come true

blue moon 🌙 - MM19xreader, smau, crack comedy, fluff, angst and smut

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a/n: and here is the thirty-seventh part of blue moon!! it's been months omg, i really hope this is worth the wait!! lmk what you think and hmu if you wanna be on the taglist! x

taglist 🤍: @masesangel @moneymasnn @rmvb24 @sad-fridge2323 @shannon-jade-99 @lazysportsfanfornhl @user8292 @japanesekel @ofxinnocence @heli991113 @audreyhereee @ithinkimokeei @blue-k-98 @sugarwatermelon @chxrryrose @untitled92260 @silverlightprincess

‘y/n! Hurry!’ Isla calls from across the beach, and I roll my eyes amusedly, rising up from my seat and lifting up my lehenga skirt so I don’t trip over the hem. Steph picked my lehenga out and even though it’s absolutely beautiful– a blue so light it almost looks white – I’m wishing I’d worn something else because it’s a bit heavy. My arms begin to ache as I walk to where all of the unmarried women stand in an excited little gaggle, waiting for the bride to throw her bouquet.

I glance over at Steph as I walk across the sand, my heart melting as it has done every time I’ve looked at her throughout the day. The smile hasn’t left her face for single moment. She looks absolutely radiant, the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen, and I don’t think I could possibly be happier for her and Ben.

Ben’s been almost as excitable as Steph all day, laughing and joking with his bride and his groomsmen at every possible opportunity. His cheeks must hurt from the way he’s been grinning nonstop. Though I suppose all of us are just as happy as him. It’s been the perfect day.

Our flight landed yesterday morning, giving us enough time to spend a few hours sunbathing on the beach, and the boys’ flight landed in the evening, so we made sure to have Steph hidden away in the villa before Ben could see her. We’ve kept them separated for a week, knowing their reunion today was gonna be much sweeter after the distance.

The ceremony didn’t start until late afternoon so we had almost all day to get ready, all of us swanning around the villa in our matching dressing gowns with glasses of wine in our hands, taking plenty of time with our hair and makeup and outfits. As the maid of honour, I had to equally split my time between getting myself ready and getting Steph ready, but I didn’t mind too much – she’s been so relaxed all day so I didn’t feel any stress at all.

The ceremony went so smoothly – no-one tripped down the aisle, no-one lost the rings, there were no interruptions or hiccups, and neither of them fucked up their vows. In fact, their vows were beautiful – there wasn’t a single dry eye in the wedding party.

As soon as the ceremony was over, we went back to our own villas to change into different outfits for the reception, coming back down to the beach at sunset. We gave our speeches – the bride and groom’s parents, and the maid of honour and the best man. Me and Mason worked on our speeches together, perfecting them, and we’d spent so long on them that we’d managed to memorise each other’s as well as our own – I was reciting his in my head as he read it out loud, smiling to myself about how good the final product was.

Then we toasted to the bride and groom, and the food was brought out. As soon as we were finished eating, we all got up to dance, having spent the last few hours singing and dancing along with the music, having the time of our lives.

Most of the guests, including my family, have gone back to the hotel that we hired out for the wedding party, leaving just Ben and Steph’s close family and friends, and a few of the drunker people who would stay out here partying until sunrise if they could. The wedding planner’s staff have taken all our things up from the villa to the hotel for us – I would have been happy to stay in the villa tonight but the other girls all said they wanted to share rooms with their boyfriends, so we’re moving up to the hotel instead.

But now it’s time for the bouquet toss. Steph wanted to preserve her actual bouquet, so she had two smaller versions made – one to throw, and one for Isla and Cal’s baby, when the little angel is born. Isla’s holding it now, the petals of it resting against her massive baby bump, and she’s leaning against Callum with a tired smile.

She’s 8 months along now, though her stomach is round enough that I keep wondering if the baby might decide to make an appearance any second. We were all worried about her flying, Steph even suggesting we postpone the wedding until after Isla’s given birth or just move the wedding domestically, but Isla insisted that they didn’t make any changes, having a full medical team on board the flight to make sure she and the baby would be okay.

She was nervous for Steph’s reaction at the start, but there was nothing to worry about because Steph was ecstatic. The pregnancy affecting the wedding didn’t even cross her mind, and we’ve all been trying our best to make sure both the wedding and the pregnancy have had equal attention and haven’t been interfering with each other.

To make life simpler, Isla and Steph decided that I would have to be the only maid of honour because we all knew that Isla wouldn’t be able to do all of the duties so far into her pregnancy. She’s still been very involved though, and partied it up with the rest of us at Steph’s hen-do. I’m sure she’d be spending the entire night on the dancefloor tonight if she could, but she’s barely been able to stand up for longer than ten minutes at a time with her swollen feet.

She’d also be in the middle of this group, fighting to the death to get her hands on the bouquet, but Cal would probably shackle her to himself if she tried now – he’s been so protective over her these past few months. It’s been so nice to watch the way he dotes on her, so loving and caring and excited to start a family with her.

And Ben and Steph have been so cute to watch too, with their pre-marital bliss. They’re already so domestic, on the exact same wavelength – they laugh at each other’s jokes without even having to hear the punchline, and they haven’t argued once over wedding planning. Both couples are perfect together.

Mason and I are a slightly different story. Our relationship is still very much platonic, despite how we’ve spent the last 10 months glued together by the hip. We’ve leant into romance every now and then – his hand resting too low on my back, our fingers brushing together too lingeringly, our eyes locking together for just a moment too long – but he’s been respecting my wishes, which I appreciate.

When we got back home from rehab, I told him I wanted to take life a lot slower. Enjoy the journey, let things happen naturally, not spend my entire life rushing. And I told him that included us, which he agreed with. To be fair, I didn’t think it’d be this slow. I was expecting it to take a few months, half a year max. But it’s not long ‘til we get to a year since I left rehab, and we’re still just friends.

But it’s been fun regardless. Spending so much time with him, without any expectations. I go to all his matches and he comes to all my shows. We’ve been on a few short holidays together, and we spend every single one of his days off together, usually on some sort of daytrip to the beach or to a theme park. And we’ve spent so much time helping with wedding planning, and helping get things ready for the baby.

Some days, we’d be at a cake tasting in the morning and then a furniture shop to order a crib in the afternoon. At the hospital for a scan in the morning and at a florist to choose flowers for a bouquet in the afternoon. Meeting the wedding planner to discuss venues and colour schemes followed by shopping for baby clothes. Painting the nursery followed by a dress fitting in the afternoon (yes, Mason somehow managed to worm himself into coming to the dress fittings and got to see Steph’s wedding dresses before anyone else other than me, Isla and Steph’s mum, which he gloated about at every opportunity).

Every minute of every day with Mason is fun, but my favourite days are the days when he comes over early in the morning, when I’m still fast asleep. He climbs into bed with me, pulling me into his arms and burying his head in my neck.

We get up a couple hours later and cook breakfast together, covering the kitchen surfaces (and each other) with the ingredients, before collapsing down onto the sofa and putting on an episode of the Netflix series we’re watching at the time.

We either spend the entire day lazing around the house, napping and eating and watching TV, or he drives me to the recording studio or the dance studio or an interview or whatever I’ve got in my schedule for the day. And he sits there, watching me write music or sing or dance or talk to the camera about whichever stupid topic the interviewer’s asked me about. He always has this look on his face, a mixture of pride and awe and affection and something else, something so strong and raw that it would make my heart stop momentarily.

I look over at him now, stood only a few feet away, dressed in a very flattering black suit, laughing with Trev. He used to lift a hand to run through his hair when he was laughing but he lost that habit when he had his buzzcut.

When Mason sent a message into the groupchat saying that he was at the barber’s, I facetimed him straight away, insisting he kept me on facetime whilst he got his haircut. My heart sunk lower and lower as his barber cut more and more of his hair off, and I couldn’t hide my hatred of the buzzcut at the start (I may or may not have shed some tears as I watched his hair fall to the floor). Mason didn’t really like it either but he did it to shut the haters up on twitter, which I couldn’t really fault him for.

He’s let it grow out now, not as long as it used to be but much better than the buzzcut. He used to have those boyish good looks with his longer hair, but this shorter hair makes him look much manlier, and the change in his physique only adds to that effect. He’s really bulked up – his shoulders are broader, his chest is stronger, his arms are bigger, and don’t even get me started on his thighs.

But my favourite features on him are the same at they always have been – those big brown eyes with their mischievous sparkle, and the happy grin he wears so often. It’s on his face now, my stomach filling with butterflies as I watch him.

My feelings for him go well past friendship, that’s for sure. All I can do is hope that his feelings match mine, though I can’t help but doubt it more and more with each day that goes past without him making a move.

‘Hoping to catch the bouquet, y/n?’ Soph teases, noticing where my eyes are focused and nudging me. ‘Definitely not,’ I say drily, Soph and Sasha both raising their eyebrows at me. ‘Why? Don’t act like you’re not completely obsessed with him, y/n, because it’s clear that you are,’ Sasha says pointedly, and I roll my eyes amusedly.

‘Whether or not I’m obsessed with him is beside the point. I don’t want him to feel rushed into a relationship with me if that’s not what he wants,’ I say mildly, and both of their mouths fall open. ‘Are you being serious? You think he doesn’t want a relationship with you?’ Soph demands, and I let out a soft laugh.

Before I can respond, the girls around me all gasp, and the three of us quickly turn to see the bouquet flying through the air. Right towards me. Before I can react, the stems of the flowers whack off my forehead, and I let out a little yelp of pain, stumbling backwards a couple steps with my hand pressed to my head.

The heel of my shoe catches on my lehenga skirt and I almost go flying, losing my footing and feeling myself falling back towards the floor. Before I hit the sand, a pair of arms come around me, keeping me upright, and I look up to see Mason. He helps steady me, only letting go when I’m firm on my feet, everyone watching with a mixture of concern and amusement, and I let out an embarrassed laugh.

‘I’m fine. Just clumsy. And in pain after Steph’s murder attempt,’ I say pointedly, the girl rushing over to see if I’m okay. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she says through giggles, pulling me into a hug, and I roll my eyes, hugging her back. ‘That was intentional. You literally chucked it at me,’ I murmur so only she can hear, and I can feel her laughing against me as she says, ‘you’ll thank me later.’

She lets go of me, handing me the bouquet from where it’s been abandoned on the floor, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Does it count as mine if it hits off my forehead?’ I say drily, everyone laughing. ‘Of course. It chose you,’ Steph grins, and I just shake my head amusedly at her.

The DJ starts the music up again, everyone falling into their own conversations, and Steph heads over to her husband who’s waiting for her on the dancefloor, leaving me stood with Mason. ‘How’s your head?’ he chuckles, and I shoot him a look.

‘Great attempt at sympathy.’ ‘I’m sorry. It was funny though. Here, let me kiss it better,’ he murmurs, leaning to press a kiss to my forehead, sending a shiver through me. He puts an arm around my waist, the two of us stood side-by-side as we watch the others dancing.

‘Looks like you’ll be getting married next then,’ he says after a few long moments of silence between us, and I laugh, looking down at the white bouquet in my hand. ‘I don’t know about that. Kai and Soph will probably be next,’ I say, watching the two of them together, Soph forcing Kai to dance even though he’s terrible at it.

‘We’ll have to beat them to it,’ he jokes, my heart skipping a beat. ‘We?’ I ask, looking up at him, and he grins easily. ‘Of course. We’re the best man and the maid of honour – it’d be tradition for us to be together. And anyway… no other idiot is gonna tie himself down to you, is he? It’ll have to be me. I’ll take one for the team,’ he sighs, as though it’s the worst task in the world, and I gasp offendedly, hitting him on the shoulder as he laughs.

‘I’m joking, I’m joking, y/n!’ he exclaims, pulling me into his arms so I stand with my back pressed against his front, his chin resting on my shoulder. He feels so big like this, his hard chest and big arms enveloping me in a warm and safe embrace.

‘It would be an honour to… tie myself down to you,’ he says amusedly, and I roll my eyes. ‘Tie yourself down? You make it sound like it’s a sacrifice. Like you’re committing yourself to a life of handcuffs,’ I point out, and he chuckles softly, warm breath fanning down across my bare chest.

‘A life of handcuffs? Kinky, but I’m down. As long as you unlock them on match days. I don’t think I’d be able to play very well with the bedpost hanging off one arm,’ he jokes, making me laugh despite myself, ignoring the dirty part of what he just said. ‘Can’t be any worse than how you normally play,’ I tease, the boy laughing, and I can feel the vibrations through his chest, making me feel warm.

‘Excuse me, y/n. I’ll have you know that I’m Chelsea’s Player of the Season, two years in a row,’ he murmurs amusedly, and I let out a soft laugh. ‘Maybe this season, you should focus more on getting past the Champions League quarter final instead of Player of the Season awards,’ I giggle, and he lets out an offended noise. ‘Ouch. That was low,’ he says, pretending to look hurt when he turns me around to face him, keeping one of my hands in his.

‘Don’t worry. The trophy’s coming back to London this season,’ he says confidently, and I bite my lip to hold giggles before I speak. ‘You really think Spurs can win it?’ I ask, both of us laughing after that. ‘Absolutely not. We’ll be the ones bringing it back. It’ll have dark blue ribbons on it,’ he says assuredly, and I just raise an eyebrow at him.

‘I’ll believe it when I see it,’ I tease, and he just shakes his head, pulling me into his arms. ‘You don’t have enough faith in me.’ ‘Because I’m, like, 99% sure it’s not gonna happen,’ I say, both of us well aware how much of a lie that is (I’m Chelsea’s biggest fan – if anyone believes we can win it all, it’s me), and he just chuckles.

‘I’ll prove you wrong. And then I’ll make you eat your words,’ he grins, and I tilt my head questioningly, heart fluttering. ‘Yeah? How, exactly?’ ‘When we win, I’ll get my medal, and then I’ll bring you down onto the pitch, and you can put the medal on. And when you’re posting selfies on your Instagram, wearing my Champions League Winners medal, you’ll realise you were wrong,’ he says, tone sounding like there’s more he wants to say, and I can’t help but raise my eyebrows again.

‘That doesn’t sound much like making my eat my words. That’s more of a reward, don’t you think? Not really a punishment,’ I reply, and his eyes darken very slightly. ‘Oh, so it’s punishment you’re after? Don’t worry, babe, I’ve got plenty of ideas on how to punish you. Most of them involving-’ ‘y/n! Mason! Come and dance! It’s the last song!’ Steph calls, both of us snapping out of our little bubble, and Mason instantly leads me over to the dancefloor with a little grin on his face.

I put it out of my mind, trying not to think about what he just said, and instead I enjoy the last song at my best friends’ wedding, my heart full as I dance with the people I love more than anything else. We sing the lyrics out at top volume, my voice sure to be hoarse in the morning, but I don’t even care. The smile on Steph’s face is giving me enough happiness to last the rest of my life – I can deal with a sore throat, even if Lisa won’t be happy about it.

When the DJ ends the music and bids us goodnight, we chant for another song but he’s already packing away, so Ben starts playing Blue Is The Colour from his phone. The boys erupt into loud cheers as Steph exchanges an exasperated glance with me, making me hold back laughter. ‘What you got this rubbish on for? Play Blue Moon,’ Jack grins, Ben pretending to swing for him.

The boys belt out the lyrics, somehow managing to pull me and Steph into their huddle, and we cling onto each other to keep ourselves upright, giggling uncontrollably as the boys jump up and down, knocking us around. When the chorus ends, we push our way out of the huddle, the other girls dying of laughter, and I feel the most contented feeling in my heart at seeing the smiles on everyone’s faces.

We begin to make our way up to the hotel slowly, getting distracted every few seconds with the boys’ stupid drunken behaviour. My feet are killing me in my heels and I link my arm through Mason’s, leaning on him for support. ‘Want my shoes?’ he offers, and I shake my head, laughing. ‘I’m okay. Thank you, though.’ ‘Are you sure? I’ll carry you if you want,’ he grins, and I raise an eyebrow.

‘I don’t think you’re strong enough to carry me and this lehenga together. This skirt is heavy as hell,’ I say, and he looks sceptical. ‘It can’t be that heavy if you’re managing to wear it.’ ‘Excuse me, Mr Mount. Are you calling me a weakling?’ I ask confrontationally, and he gives me a look. ‘Yes. Because you are a weakling.’

‘Says you. Your knees nearly buckled last time you lifted me,’ I remind him, and he rolls his eyes. ‘y/n, I’d played 90 minutes and you jumped into my arms as soon as I walked through the door. I was tired and surprised. In other circumstances, I could lift you a lot easier and for a lot longer,’ he says reasonably.

‘Excuses of a weakling,’ I tease. ‘No weakling has arms like this,’ he says proudly, flexing an arm, and his bicep strains against his suit jacket. Now I’m the one whose knees are buckling. ‘Those arms are deceptive. They can barely lift one of my holiday suitcases, let alone me.’ ‘It’s because you overpack. Your holiday suitcases are ridiculously heavy. I could lift you easily. For… 12 minutes at least,’ he smirks, the random number making my eyebrows furrow in confusion.

‘That’s an oddly specific amount of time.’ ‘It’s the amount of time I’d need to get you there a couple times,’ he grins, my stomach turning, and I roll my eyes. ‘You wouldn’t last that long.’ ‘I wouldn’t? Says the one who started crying three minutes in,’ he taunts, and I nudge him to shut him up, looking around to make sure no one’s listening. Good thing they’re all too busy pulling Dec out of a bush.

‘You’re saying that like there wasn’t a build-up. I almost spent ten minutes cutting up the bloody pizza while you were teasing me, so you can’t try and use that against me,’ I say defensively, and he just chuckles. ‘Ten minutes is nothing. I could do worse.’ ‘You wouldn’t be able to resist that long,’ I grin, and he raises an eyebrow.

‘I’ve been resisting for a year and a quarter,’ he says pointedly, my heart skipping a beat. ‘You’ve been resisting me for a year and a quarter. There were probably plenty of other girls you didn’t resist,’ I say offhandedly, and he just looks at me in mild shock.

‘You don’t seriously think I’ve been sleeping around that whole time, do you?’ ‘Not sleeping around, as such. But sleeping with other girls? Yeah, of course,’ I say, and he lets out a harsh laugh, like he’s not at all amused. ‘I haven’t slept with anyone since you in Greece,’ he says shortly, the air around us quickly turning cold. Unease fills my chest at how tense he is now, though I can still feel the way my heart leaps at hearing that he hasn’t slept with anyone since me.

‘Mase…’ I begin quietly, but he waves me off instantly. ‘It’s alright. You don’t have to apologise or anything. It was a valid thing to think. But I was being serious when I said I would wait a lifetime for you, and that hasn’t changed. You still mean just as much to me now as you did then,’ he says softly as we near the hotel entrance, the others slightly behind us.

Before I can reply, Ben joins us, clapping his hands down on our shoulders with a massive grin on his face. ‘Best man. Maid of honour. You know you two have to fuck tonight?’ he says bluntly. All those celebratory drinks must have worn down his filter. Mason starts choking in shock, and I can’t help but laugh. ‘Ben, that’s the newlyweds. We’re not the ones consummating a marriage,’ I say slowly, like I’m having to teach something to a toddler, and he rolls his eyes.

‘We’ll be fucking, don’t worry about that. But it’s tradition for the best man and the maid of honour to do it too. Usually in a broom cupboard during the reception or something, but I don’t think the two of you disappeared at any point, so you’ll have to make do with the suite I booked for you,’ he says cheerfully, Mason letting out a fed-up sigh.

‘The last time you interfered, she ended up in rehab,’ he says drily, Ben choking this time as I burst into laughter. ‘It’s not gonna happen again. And, anyway, it’s not interfering. Everyone else has got suites as well,’ he says mildly, Mason raising an eyebrow. ‘Everyone else is in relationships.’

‘When are you two gonna stop lying to yourselves? You’re in just as much of a relationship as the rest of us are,’ he says, Mason and I silent. What am I supposed to say? Yeah, I’d love to stop lying and be with him, but he won’t make a fucking move. ‘God, don’t both of you speak at once,’ Ben says sarcastically, Mason and I laughing.

‘There’s two rooms in your suite. Two separate beds,’ Ben says lightly as we walk into the hotel lobby, leaving us stood alone as he goes to get all our keycards from the reception desk. ‘Bagsy the bigger room,’ Mason jokes, and I roll my eyes. ‘We never sleep in separate beds,’ I say, and it’s the truth. Every holiday, every trip, even when we stay the night at each other’s houses, we always share one bed. ‘Maybe we should,’ he says cryptically, my heart dropping.

Callum’s appearance stops me from replying this time, and I find myself cursing both of my best friends’ other halves. ‘Mason, can you come to mine and Isla’s room for a couple minutes?’ he asks, Mason’s eyes widening slightly. ‘Um… I love you, bro, and I love Isla too, but not like that-’ ‘Bro, shut up,’ Callum laughs, shaking his head.

‘Isla’s got this pregnancy bed thing that she’s been using and she needs me to set it up but I don’t know what I’m doing.’ ‘Doesn’t Isla know how to do it?’ Mason asks, Callum raising an eyebrow as he glances over at her. She’s leaning back in an armchair, her eyes fluttering shut every few seconds, and my heart aches for her. She must have been so tired, but she’s been putting on a brave face and staying chirpy for Steph.

‘Calm, bro, don’t worry. I’ll help,’ Mason says straight away as Ben comes over with our keycards. We all head up in the lift together, Jack and Declan jumping to make the lift jolt before Isla whacks them over the head with her bouquet. Our suites are all on the same floor, and we bid each other goodnight as we split off through our own doors. ‘I shouldn’t be long,’ Mason says before following Cal and Isla, leaving me to enter our room alone.

I shut the door behind me and head into one of the bedrooms, the silence making me feel on edge. The first thing I do is turn on the TV and put MTV on, playing some music to fill the deathly quiet. I unpack my bag quickly before getting out of my lehenga, my body relieved at no longer being weighed down by the layers and layers of material.

I let myself lie on the bed in just my underwear for a minute or two, enjoying the cold air from the aircon on my skin and thinking about Mason. Maybe it sounds crazy but I really had started to doubt whether he still felt the same about me. But now, in the space of two minutes, he’s reiterated that he’d wait a lifetime for me and then said that maybe we should sleep in different beds. The mixed messages are really not it.

I let out a sigh, getting up off the bed and grabbing my Mount shirt. It’s the one he gave me before I went to LA, and it’s all soft and practically threadbare at this point because of how much I’ve worn it. Mason keeps telling me to throw this one away and wear one of the other trillion Mount shirts I own, but none of them mean as much to me as this one does. Getting rid of this would be like throwing away a piece of my heart.

I wash off my makeup and finish my skincare routine with my legs crossed on the bed, scrolling through tiktok and having to watch every video multiple times because I keep getting distracted with thoughts of Mason. I feel like my body’s crackling with electricity as I wait for him, desperate to just speak to him and finally sort things out. I’m tired of this back and forth – my commitment issues are hating me right now but I need to define our relationship.

I hear the door open as I’m spraying on some rose water, and I have to take a deep breath to try and slow my heartbeat, embarrassed at myself for getting so excited at him literally walking into our hotel suite. ‘y/n!’ he calls and I practically leap out of the bed, feeling even more embarrassed at myself. ‘I’m in the bedroom!’ I call back, listening out for footsteps. Instead, I hear cupboards opening and closing, and I know he’s looking for a snack in the kitchen.

‘Which one?’ he calls back amusedly, and I roll my eyes to myself, walking across the room to the door and sticking my head out. I know him too well, the sight of him rooting around in the snack drawer making me smile. ‘This one,’ I say, the boy looking up with his beautiful grin, white shirt tight on his body and eyes sparkling in the warm kitchen lights, and the realisation hits me like a ton of bricks.

I’m completely, totally, hopelessly in love with Mason Mount.

It feels like my heart’s exploding in my chest as he tilts his head, motioning for me to join him. I walk across the room slowly and he watches me as I do so, looking at me like I’m a vision of beauty even though I probably look a mess with my natural face, even more so wearing just the worn Mount shirt. I take his outstretched hand and let him pull me into his arms. He holds me against his chest with a hand splayed on my back, and the other strokes my hair softly, light tingles dancing across my scalp.

I can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, and the warmth of his body seeps through his skin to mine, thawing me out. He pulls away from me after a few moments, and I ache for him, the inches between us feeling like so much more.

‘What’s up? You seem… off,’ he says, leaning against the counter, and I don’t speak for a moment, just looking at him. He’s discarded his suit jacket, his muscles straining against his shirt, the black ink of his tattoos visible through the thin white cotton. He’s also taken off his tie, the top couple buttons open to reveal a thin gold chain around his neck.

‘We need to talk,’ I blurt out, meeting his eyes to stop myself from ogling his handsome figure, and he raises an amused eyebrow. ‘Do we? What about?’ ‘Us,’ I reply, and he lets out a soft sigh, turning away from me and leaning on the counter with his forearms pressed against the marble. His side profile is so pretty, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, jaw strong and nose prominent. God, I love his nose. I wanna si-

‘I disagree. I don’t think we need to talk about it,’ he says heavily, pushing the thirsty thoughts out of my head and replacing them with nerves. ‘Why not?’ ‘You already know how I feel about you, and it’s torture for me to keep telling you in a trillion different ways only to be brushed off or rejected again,’ he says, my mouth dropping open.

‘Rejected?’ I echo, and he looks at me with just as much disbelief in his face as what I’m feeling. ‘Yes, y/n. You’ve rejected me more times than I can count.’ ‘When have I ever rejected you?’ I demand, and he lets out a humourless laugh. ‘Every single time I flirt with you or talk about us as a couple, you get all quiet and awkward like you feel uncomfortable. And that’s fine – you don’t have to like me back. But stop stringing me along. Say it as it is,’ he says tiredly, and I’m lost for words. He thinks I don’t like him?

‘Mason, you can’t be serious,’ I say, voice soft with shock, and he just looks at me for a few seconds. ‘Yeah, I am being serious. You make me think I have a chance, when you reciprocate my affection and intimacy and flirting, but then you shut me down when you completely ignore my feelings. It’s like… you give me the green light so I put my foot down, but then you turn back to amber. You’re clearly not interested. So if you wanna have this conversation to get me to back off, I understand, and I’ll stop,’ he says, defeat tinging his voice, and I feel my heart ache more with each word.

How can two people who spend so much time together be on such different pages? How can he not know what he means to me? ‘We need to work on our communication,’ I say after a momentary silence, and he raises an eyebrow, looking like he’s holding back laughter. ‘Why?’ ‘Because I can’t believe that you think I want you to back off,’ I reply quietly, and he just stares at me expressionlessly. ‘So… you don’t want me to change the way I treat you?’ he asks slowly, like he’s confused, and I let out an irritated noise.

‘Of course I don’t want that, Mason! I don’t want you to stop with the flirting or the intimacy or the affection, the dirty jokes or the compliments, the way you look at me or the way you hold my hand. There’s only one thing I want you to change,’ I say all in one breath, my heart hammering in the chest at the thought of what I’m about to say. He looks taken aback, surprised at my sudden outburst, and he remains silent, waiting for me to finish speaking.

‘I want you to change… what our relationship is. I need you to make a move. A proper move, not cracking a joke about us getting married or telling everyone I’m off limits. How can you spend all this time showing me so much love but you still haven’t asked me to be your girlfriend? The reason I get quiet when you talk about us as a couple is because I’m confused, Mase. You make me think you want me but you haven’t asked me to be yours yet! I know I said I need time, but I didn’t mean nearly a whole year!’ I exclaim, the two of us just staring at each other, the only noise the music floating faintly from the bedroom and my deep breaths.

After a long few seconds, he holds a hand out again and I take it, letting him pull me into another hug. I slide my arms around him, feeling the contours of his body, the curves of his muscles beneath my fingers, and I let my hands travel up his back, letting my nails run through the short and soft hairs at the nape of his neck. He presses his hands into my back to hold me close, impossibly close, like he’s trying to intertwine our two bodies into one, and I can hear his heartbeat through his chest, a slow and steady rhythm that makes me feel safe. He feels like home to me, and he always will.

‘We’ve spent more time together in the past few months than we’ve spent with anyone else. Maybe we should have spent some of that time talking about our feelings for each other,’ he says lightly, making me laugh into his shirt. ‘You think? It would’ve saved us a lot of stress,’ I say drily, and he chuckles, the vibrations reverberating around his chest and making him skin hum against mine.

‘Listen, y/n,’ he says seriously, moving apart slightly so we can look at each other, his hands still resting on my back and my arms still looped around him. ‘If at any point since Santorini, even for a second, I made you think that I don’t want you to be mine, I’m so sorry. Because it’s what I want more than anything else. You mean everything to me. You’re the most amazing girl in the world. You’re funny and compassionate, and so talented, and you’re far too clever for me to keep up with you, but I’d happily spend my whole life trying anyway. You’re so beautiful that I literally feel my heart stop every time I look at you, and your smile makes me melt. You’re strong and you don’t take my shit and you always help me to stay humble. You can be a bitch but I love it because it makes your sweet moments even sweeter. You’re a legend and a star and a queen and an angel and an absolute dream come true. It’d be the honour of a lifetime if you were mine,’ he says softly with the most handsome smile on his face and so much love in his eyes.

By the time he’s finished speaking, tears are running down my face, and I can’t stop myself from beaming, heart overflowing with love for him, love so strong I can feel it thrumming through my veins with the rhythm of my pulse. How could I be so lucky to fall in love with someone so perfect, and even luckier to have his love in return?

‘I love you, y/n, but it’s more than that. It’s so strong. I feel it with every part of my body, every piece of my heart. I’m in love with you. I have been since the day I met you, and I will be for the rest of my life. Even longer than that, actually,’ he adds on, making me let out a watery laugh. ‘Even when you’re dead?’ I ask, and he nods with a content smile on his face. ‘Forever, babe.’ ‘I’m in love with you too,’ I smile, hands on the back of his neck to pull him down towards me.

When our lips press together, it feels like it’s the first time, a piece of my heart slotting into place, making me feel whole. There’s none of the fire and passion, the lust and desperation of all our previous kisses. This one is steady and slow, like he knows he has the rest of his life to kiss me to his heart’s content. There are no wandering hands or clashing tongues. His fingers press into my back with a soft pressure, and his lips move against mine with nothing but love. He doesn’t taste like tequila or saltwater. He tastes like warmth and home.

When we break apart, we’re both smiling like lovestruck idiots, and I keep my eyes locked with his, trying to brand this moment into my mind for eternity. ‘Aren’t you gonna ask me then?’ I ask with a smile, and he chuckles, raising an eyebrow questioningly though he knows exactly what I mean. ‘Ask you what?’ ‘To be your girlfriend,’ I say with a roll of my eyes, the boy contemplating the question for a moment.

‘I don’t want you to be my girlfriend, though,’ he says, confusion filling me. ‘What?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘I don’t want you to be my girlfriend. I want you to be my wife,’ he says casually, my heart stopping momentarily. ‘…Your wife?’ I echo, and he laughs at my shock. I feel like I can’t breathe as I watch him let go of me and reach into his back pocket, pulling out a small blue velvet box. A ring box. I gasp, hand covering my mouth as he gets down onto one knee, looking up at me with big brown eyes full of hope.

‘I know you want a big fancy proposal with a huge diamond on an engagement ring, so consider this a… pre-proposal. Like a verbal agreement before signing the contract,’ he explains, the football reference making my roll my eyes, and I nod to get him to carry on, the boy laughing at my impatience. ‘And I know you don’t want to get married for a while yet, so that’s also something we can come back to in a few years. But I just want you to know how much you mean to me, and how much I want you to be mine,’ he says softly, before holding up the ring box and opening it, prompting another gasp.

It’s the Van Cleef and Arpels butterfly ring, but this one’s customised, silver with sapphires set into it. It perfectly matches the blue butterfly pendant on the bracelet he bought me in Santorini, the one that’s on my wrist right now and has been every day since he took me to rehab. It’s so beautiful that it brings tears to my eyes. He had this made for me.

‘I’m in love with you, y/n, and that feeling grows more and more every single day. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, every waking moment and every sleeping moment too. I want to have a family with you and grow old with you and go through photo albums with our grandchildren to show them how beautiful their nani or dadi was. So… would you do me the honour of being my wife? y/n… will you marry me?’ he asks, eyes bright with tears, and I nod, steadily crying with the biggest smile on my face, heart full.

‘Yes, Mason. I’ll marry you,’ I whisper, wonder on his face, as though he can’t believe his luck. I grab his hands, pulling him up from the floor and throwing myself at him in a hug, his disbelieving laughter making my skin warm. ‘I’m so in love with you, Mason Mount,’ I say as I pull him into a kiss, his lips curving up into a smile against mine, butterflies filling my stomach.

He breaks away after a few seconds, eager to put the ring on me, and he slides it onto my left ring finger. It’s the first time I’ve ever worn a ring there, having spent my life saving it for an engagement ring, and it fits perfectly, my heart melting at the sight of it on my hand. I hold it up to the light, admiring it, and he pulls me into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. ‘I love it.’ ‘I love you,’ he says instantly, the words making me warm, and I laugh, kissing him again.

‘We’re not gonna tell the others, are we?’ I ask, and he shakes his head. ‘We’ll keep it a secret for a bit. To everyone else, we’re just boyfriend and girlfriend. We can’t tell them all that we’re engaged on Steph and Ben’s wedding day, and I’ll save the proper proposal until after the baby’s born. Let everyone have their moments, and we can share ours with them after,’ he says sensibly, and I nod in agreement. ‘Our little secret,’ I say, and he lifts my hand to his mouth, kissing the ring instead of my skin this time, the action making my stomach turn with excitement. He’s really put a ring on my finger – I’m engaged!

‘It’s so beautiful, Mase. It’s perfect.’ ‘Perfect ring for my perfect fiancée,’ he says softly, my heart skipping a beat at the word. ‘Mason Mount’s my fiancé. Oh, yeah, that’s my fiancé, Mason Mount. My fiancé’s a professional footballer for Chelsea and England. No, I’m not here alone – I’m here with Mason Mount, my fiancé. Lisa, can you reserve a seat in the front row for my fiancé please? My fiancé scored a goal today, did you see? Oh yes, me and my fiancé summered in the Bahamas this year,’ I test the word out, putting on a snooty voice as Mason laughs at my roleplay.

‘Summered? Who uses that word these days?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘People who have a fiancé. I’m gonna have to start using all sorts of new words now. Charcuterie and sandalwood and opera-’ ‘Babe, being engaged doesn’t mean we have to turn into rich people from Downtown Abbey or something,’ he laughs, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I beg to differ. I need to start training to be your trophy wife, and I don’t wanna be a typical WAG. I wanna be serving businessman’s wife, not footballer’s wife,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes amusedly.

‘Maybe you should marry a businessman instead then.’ ‘Maybe I should,’ I reply simply, and he gives me a look. ‘Don’t even think about it. You’re mine, y/n,’ he reminds me, the words echoing in my head like the perfect melody. You’re mine, y/n. ‘I’m yours,’ I agree, ‘and you’re mine too, Mason Mount. Always and forever.’ ‘I’m glad you know it,’ he murmurs, pressing his lips to mine in an innocent kiss, though when he breaks away this time, I feel myself wanting more.

‘Show me,’ I whisper, and he raises a questioning eyebrow. ‘Show you what?’ ‘Show me how much you love me,’ I say quietly, shy at being the one to initiate this, but my boldness is rewarded at seeing the way his eyes darken, lips parted in surprise. ‘Fuck. Are you sure?’ he asks, and I nod with a coy smile. ‘Okay. Come on then,’ he says softly, holding my hand and leading me to the bedroom, my heart beating harder with each step.

‘I thought you’d pick me up and slam me against the wall,’ I joke, and he chuckles gently. ‘I don’t wanna fuck you like the best man and the maid of honour having a quickie in a broom cupboard,’ he says, making me giggle as we enter the bedroom. ‘How do you wanna fuck me then?’ I ask, and he grins, pulling me into his arms. ‘I don’t wanna fuck you. I wanna make love to you, like the luckiest man in the world making love to his beautiful fiancée,’ he murmurs before pressing his lips to mine, happiness settling in my heart.

[lightyaoigami]

what they don't tell you is that you can get wedding brainrot just from being in the wedding party. i had a dream that i went to oak tree road and i couldn't drape my saree and the lehenga all looked horrible on me. I AM NOT THE BRIDE. please my brain is soup

[indian-kahani]

Desi LGBT Fest: Day 8 Prompt

The acceptance you hoped for vs the acceptance you got

Tagging: @desi-lgbt-fest

Anshika loved her parents. She loved them more than anything in the world, more than buttercups and more than summer days. She loved them as much as her girlfriend Padma, which was really saying something.

One of the biggest reasons that she loved her parents was their acceptance, their open-mindedness. Their willingness to shrug and accept that life was just like that sometimes, messy and chaotic and throwing everyone up into the air with no regard for how soft their landing might be.

“The universe can do whatever it wants, Anshu.” Her father had told her once. “It’s up to us what we make of it.”

She had been nervous coming out to her parents: accepting or not, open-minded or not, there was no denying the fact that for most people like her, acceptance with a loving family was a pipe dream. The most that people like her could hope for was not to get thrown out onto the streets.

It scared her sometimes – how three words could change her life so radically.

“Ma… I’m bisexual.”

“Bisexual? Kya bisexual? What is this, Anshu?” her mother was tight-lipped, unsmiling. Anshika’s heart had began to race, her hands balling up into fists.

“I- I like girls. And boys. Romantically.” She had blurted out, willing herself to not cry.

Her mother had considered her for a long second, and then turned around, the fabric of her kurti swaying gently.

“Are you serious, Anshika?” she had asked. Anshika had just nodded.

Later that night, she heard them talking between themselves in hushed, urgent whispers. At one point, she heard her mother begin to sob. Something deep inside her broke at the sound of her muffled tears. She hated that something that she held so dear, something that was a part of her, would make one of the people she loved most in the world cry.

“Bisexual? Where is she even hearing this? I didn’t even know what it meant, Manish!” her mother had said, and Anshika imagined her holding her head in her hands.

“It’s okay, Ashwini. It’s okay. She’s young, right? Maybe she is bisexual, maybe she isn’t. All we can do is wait and see. We want her to be happy, right? That’s all we can ask for.” Her father’s voice was heavy.

“You’re right, but I just can’t- why her?” Ashwini sounded defeated, asking God for the answers she didn’t know herself. “Why my baby? I just wanted her to be happy!”

Anshika covered her ears after that, feeling nauseated.

Ma… can I not be happy just the way I am?

But still, she was happy. She was content. Because the day after, her parents held her hand determined, and hugged her with their heads held high, telling her that they loved her and would do anything to see her happy with the boy, or the girl of her choice.

So yes, her parents accepted her. Yes, they wanted to see her be happy.

But still-

Her father always reminded her to be faithful.

Because bi girls are more likely to cheat.

Her mother always told her that she might find the right boy one day.

Because if she found a boy, it means she’s straight, right?

Her father suggested that she buy more lehengas and another gaghra.

The last thing they want is for her to look like a lesbian.

And sometimes when they told her they loved her, their smiles seemed a little worried.

Anshika loved her parents, and she knew they would always love her back no matter what.

She just wished that they would love her knowing and accepting that her sexuality was always going to be a part of her, that it wasn’t something that she could change.

Still, they were trying. They were doing their best with the little they knew. Her father bought a book called How to make your daughter feel loved, and read it every day.

Her mother hugged her more often, and made it a point to tell her that she was beautiful and confident and smart. They didn’t invite Padma to dinner, but they met her at the school gates and talked to her with smiles on their faces, knowing that this was the girl their daughter was dating.

They weren’t perfect, no. But they were trying.

And to be honest? That was all she wanted.

I actually quite like this one, but it was pretty rushed and i didn't want to edit so :DD

[sankiraizada]

Bandage to the Heart | Part - 2

<<part - 1

"You have grown up so much. Whatever will I do without you in this place after today?"

"Nothing. You would do nothing without me", said Khushi sensing incoming waterworks.

"Jiji, I stay barely half an hour away from Shantivan. And Holi is just a handful of days away. Even after that we'll visit each other at least once a week. Kya pata without me you might burn this place down" she finished fake-haughtily.

Payal chuckled wiping a tear.

"Once a week hi kyun? That won't be enough. I'd want to check on others in the family too. Just in case they get dabao-fied under your tyranny."

"Sundays for Nani-ji, Mondays - Anjali-ji, Tuesdays and Wednesdays for Mama-ji and Mami-ji. Thursdays for Nanheji and Fridays for poor Jijaji."

"And whom did you mark Saturdays for? Laxmi-ji?" asked Payal, now laughing.

"Woh toh I've saved for Laad-Governor, woh kya hain, it's the weekend and he won't be busy preparing for Mondays like he does on Sundays - and I can make him sit and watch Salman Khan ji's movies with me." her hands busy with her lehenga again and eyes glittering with dreams of Dum Aloo and the Dabaang series with her Darling Singh Raizada.

"Huh?"

"huh?"

"Haan.. movies with Arnavji, Satsang with Mamiji, disco with Hari Prakash ji. All very realistic possibilities. He-he" she tried saving the situation.

"Jiji, bahut baatein karti ho. Tumhe aaj shaadi karni hain ki nahin?" throwing the lehenga and jewelry onto the bed, she scrambled to reach for the door.

"I'll go check on Amma & Buaji, they must have gotten ready by now. They might need an extra hand with setting down the madap ka samaan" and off she ran leaving Payal with a curious expression on her face.

Now that her Arnavji was back on her mind, she allowed herself a shy smile. She had grown used to her dhak-dhak in the past few days. It actually feels weirdly lonely without it paired with the 'acidity'. The bindi he used earlier to do his bidding sat warmly between her brows. It was the same one she put on this morning but with his little gesture, it felt.. she felt - very different. She touched it and thought back to the way he made his intention very clear. Are they the same pair they were a few weeks ago?

"Na tumhari shakal dekhni hai, na tumse koi baat karni hai"

Yet he seemed weirdly angry when he thought he would never get to see her face again. Was it her fault he mistook that she got into an accident? He shook her and shook her more that evening, snapping at her when she started to go with Nanheji again. Fumed as he drove the car ~slowly~ to bring her back. Yelled at her when she cut her arm with the bangles of the wrong size. Did not hesitate to give his input on which saree she should select for herself this morning.

Laad Governer kahin ke. Khushi rolled her eyes fondly.

"Na hi hum aapse baat karna chahte, aur na hi aapki shakal dekhna chahte"

But she made a fool of herself flitting around Shantivan, kicking herself for asking Devi Maiyya to take him away from her sight. She couldn't sit peacefully by her Jiji, got a hasty mehendi design to get it over with so she could step away from all prying eyes and ring his phone incessantly. She had asked Anjali ji once, Nani-ji next if he was back yet. 3 hours? She had counted all 10,800 seconds. She played a dangerous gamble holding the phone close while apologizing profusely for wishing she could never see him again. He looked delicious though, waving the voicemail right in her face. A proud smirk on his lips appeared as he noticed his 'A' on her palm and her brains were F-R-I-E-D. Maybe sometimes for this very purpose, she secretly liked it when he caught her being an idiot.

Lost in her thoughts her feet carried her up the stairs of this now very familiar house which almost felt like her own.

"Khushi ji!" called OP after her. He ran up to the study where she was standing with an envelope in his hand.

"Are you going up Khushi ji? Can you please give this to Anjali Didi? I have to check on the drinks and snacks being served to the guests" Khushi smiled and took the envelope from his hand that had some diagnostic lab name written on it. OP vanished through the side hallway into the kitchen thanking the nice girl in his head.

Khushi reached the first floor landing with eyes still out for her Arnavji. Should she go to his room? Was he in there? What excuse could she make up to see his face?

The door to Anjali ji's room was open to the far right end and she willed herself into that direction instead. Her dear friend who is almost like a sister was beside herself with joy the past few days, arranging everything to her brand of perfection. Khushi closed a fist and knocked on the door when she reached there before she putting a tentative foot inside.

"Anjali ji.." Khushi peeked into the room to make sure the dung beetle Shyam wasn't there. Instead, she saw the man from her thoughts with his head on his Di's lap, and she…

"ANJALI JI!!"

part-3>>