✨14. Staring her

Niharika took a deep breath and walked towards the room, where she found Shivaay about to leave with a blanket. "Don't go anywhere," she said gently. "This is your room. You can sleep here."

Shivaay paused for a moment, then reluctantly agreed and started heading for the couch. Niharika, however, quickly intervened. "It’s your home," she said softly. "You don’t need to sleep on the couch. You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the sofa."

He didn’t argue, simply nodded, and settled into the bed, his eyes avoiding hers. Niharika lay down on the couch, her thoughts swirling as the room fell into silence.

As Niharika lay on the couch, an unusual feeling washed over her. The room felt unfamiliar, despite it being her new home. The silence, the faint hum of the air conditioning, and the dimmed lights made everything seem surreal. She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with thoughts of the day's events, trying to make sense of everything.

Meanwhile, Shivaay lay in the bed, his back turned to her. He was awake, but the distance between them felt greater than ever. The tension in the room was palpable, both of them unsure of what the next moment would bring.

In the stillness of the night, Niharika woke up, her body sore from lying on the couch in an awkward position. She shifted uncomfortably, her gaze falling on Shivaay, still sleeping soundly on the bed. The cold AC hummed quietly in the room, and she noticed that he wasn't covered with a blanket. She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should do anything, but as she saw him lying so still, she couldn't ignore the feeling of responsibility that tugged at her heart.

With a quiet sigh, Niharika got up, careful not to disturb him. She walked to the bed, her steps soft on the floor, and reached for the blanket that had been left untouched. Gently, she draped it over his body, making sure he was properly covered. Her fingers brushed against his arm for a brief second, and she paused, staring at him for a moment longer than she intended.

She couldn’t explain why she did it, but it felt right. A simple act of care. After a few seconds, she stepped back and stood there, watching him sleep, her heart beating a little faster. The warmth she had offered him lingered in the air, and she felt an unfamiliar connection, one that went beyond mere obligation.

Turning back to the couch, Niharika returned to her spot, trying to settle back into the uncomfortable cushions. Her mind raced as she tried to shake the unusual feeling she had in her chest. She was married to this man, but the gestures, the care, they seemed to mean more than she had expected. She closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come, but her thoughts were tangled, and the quiet night stretched on.

As Niharika settled back onto the couch, her gaze drifted back to Shivaay, now peacefully asleep under the blanket she had placed over him. In the dim light, with his sharp features softened by slumber, he looked almost innocent—almost endearing. A small smile tugged at her lips as she thought, He looks so cute while sleeping.

But almost instantly, her smile faded as reality crept in. She shook her head, reminding herself of the man he had been since their wedding. Cold, distant, and harsh. The same man who had dismissed her care earlier in the day and made it clear that she wasn’t welcome in his world.

Her mind whispered, Who knows what he truly is in reality? With that thought, she turned away, pulling the thin shawl she had brought closer to herself, hoping to block out the confusing emotions that had begun to stir in her heart.

The next morning, Niharika woke up early as always, her routine unbroken even in this new household. Quietly slipping out of bed, she took her things and went into the bathroom for a bath. The cool water refreshed her, washing away the lingering fatigue of the previous day.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, her damp hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she was dressed only in her blouse and lehenga skirt. The delicate fabric clung to her, accentuating her slender frame, while her waist, left uncovered, gleamed faintly in the morning light. She held a towel in her hand, gently patting her wet hair dry as she moved to stand near the mirror.

Shivaay, still half-asleep, stirred slightly at the soft sounds of her movements. His sleep broke completely when he opened his eyes and saw her. For a moment, he was stunned, his heartbeat quickening as his gaze locked onto his wife. She looked ethereal, her natural beauty heightened by the simplicity of her attire and the way the soft light played on her damp skin. His eyes unwillingly lingered on her waist, the sight making his breath hitch. He had never seen anyone as effortlessly captivating as her.

Lost in his thoughts, Shivaay continued to stare until Niharika suddenly turned her head. Noticing his open eyes, she frowned slightly, unsure if he was awake or not. He quickly shut his eyes, feigning sleep, his heart thudding in his chest. She shook her head, dismissing the feeling of being watched as her imagination, and resumed drying her hair.

As she began to apply her makeup, Shivaay’s eyes opened just slightly, stealing glances at her reflection in the mirror. His expression shifted when he noticed something—her neck was bare. The absence of her mangalsutra made him feel a strange pang in his chest, a mix of sadness and disappointment. Was it not important to her?

But just as the thought crossed his mind, he saw her reach into the drawer and retrieve the sacred chain. Carefully, she clasped it around her neck, adjusting it so it lay perfectly against her skin. His sadness melted away, replaced by a quiet sense of pride and relief. She hadn’t forgotten its significance.

She continued her routine, applying light makeup that enhanced her natural features. Then, with steady hands, she placed a delicate bindi on her forehead and picked up the small box of sindoor. Shivaay couldn’t look away as she carefully filled the parting of her hairline, her every movement precise and graceful.

Finally, she adorned herself with the jewelry that matched her lehenga, and her hands moved to arrange her long, waist-length hair. Instead of tying it up, she left it open, letting it cascade down her back in soft waves. Adjusting her dupatta over her shoulder, she gave herself a final look in the mirror, her appearance perfect and regal, ready to step into her role as the bahu of the Ranawat family.

Shivaay closed his eyes fully this time, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest. He couldn’t deny the effect she had on him, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

As Niharika stepped out of the room, Shivaay sat up on the bed, running a hand through his hair as if trying to compose himself. His breaths were uneven, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to calm the storm inside him.

He couldn't shake the image from his mind—the way her waist had gleamed in the soft light, bare and delicate, stirring something deep within him. It wasn’t just her beauty that had left him breathless but the innocence and unawareness with which she carried herself, oblivious to the effect she had on him.

He clenched his fists, trying to regain control, but his heart betrayed him. "What the hell is wrong with me?" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if that would help banish the image of her from his mind. But no matter how hard he tried, the memory of her graceful movements and that unintentional glimpse lingered, making his pulse race even more.

Shivaay took a deep breath, shaking off the thoughts of Niharika. Today was an important day, and he couldn’t afford distractions—not even from his new wife. Standing up with renewed determination, he moved towards the bathroom to get ready.

As he emerged, dressed in a regal sherwani that exuded authority and power, a sense of excitement and pride filled him. Today, he would finally claim the position he had been groomed for his entire life—the throne of the Ranawats.

He adjusted the intricate buttons of his sherwani, the golden embroidery gleaming under the morning light. His mind focused on the legacy he was about to inherit, though a small voice whispered about the changes that had already started within him. Brushing it aside, Shivaay straightened his posture, his lips curving into a faint smirk. Today was his day, and nothing else mattered.