Follow me on Instagram for story-related updates, some creative content and to rant your heart out - handle is- suganthii.writes
Spotify- suganthii.writes
Scrollstck- Suganthi Lakshminarayanan
A/N: Something which you were expecting from the last two chapters is here! Go read and vote ;) And I am waiting for your comments too :)
Video Attached: Reprise (Cover) version of 'Tu Zaroori' by Arman Malik. The original version of this song is still in my playlist and I think this song just makes the lyrics more beautiful.
Crossing the railway tracks, Krishna found himself surrounded by a serene scene of lush greenery and timeless Victorian architecture. The old British-era housesâyellow and white with maroon-tiled roofs and separate quarters for servantsâwere lined up in perfect order. The streets and intersections were unusually quiet, almost eerie, except for a brief interruption when a cuckoo perched on a thin branch of a banyan tree sang a melodious tune, briefly shattering the silence.
As the bird's song ended, the only sounds that filled the air were the constant crunching of the tires over dry leaves and the soft clicks of him shifting gears.
Krishna turned the last left towards his destination, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over him. He had been here before, back when his parents insisted on digging into Xavier's background. They had wanted to know everythingâhis family, his schooling, his friends, his work, and even his romantic history. Being a police officer, Krishna had the resources to gather all that information, confirming that Xavier was a clean guy, an eligible bachelor. He remembered the relief on his father's face when he'd delivered the report, especially after Subhadra had dropped the bombshell of her intent to marry Xavier, and no one else.
Arriving at the house, Krishna parked his jeep and took a moment to fix his hair, whistling a random tune as he stepped out. But as he rounded the vehicle, he stopped dead in his tracks. His breath hitched, and his heart pounded as he blinked rapidly, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him.
What?
There she was.
He hadn't seen her in five years and all he had imagined her as beautiful... but this... this was beyond anything he had pictured.
She wasn't just beautifulâshe was breathtaking, captivating in a way that stirred something deep within him. Her once lean and fragile frame had blossomed into something strong, supple, and irresistibly curvy. She wore a raspberry-wine-colored georgette saree that clung to every contour of her body, accentuating her hourglass figure in a way that made his pulse race. A delicate silver chain cinched her waist, resting against her skin in a way that made him inexplicably jealous, wishing he could be the one feeling her warmth and not that stupid warmth... it should've been his arms around her waist...
He had to fight the overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms, to feel her close. But he scolded himselfâget a grip, Krishna, you're twenty-six, not sixteen. He swallowed hard, trying to rein in his wild thoughts.
Then he saw a man in the tux approach her, wrapping her in a tight hug from behind. Krishna's initial reaction was to charge over and separate them, but as he got closer, he realized who it was.
It was Xavier.
How?
But seeing him with her brought a wave of possessiveness he didn't know he had in him. He had never felt such a need to own something, or someone, like this. Watching her laugh with Xavier, Krishna's stomach twisted. He had never felt possessive about anything, but thisâseeing her joy that wasn't his doingâstung more than he could handle.
"Xavier," Krishna's voice came out deeper than usual, echoing the authoritative tone he used on special occasions. His eyes, however, were locked on herâSamiksha, his girl, the one whose memory had never left him.
Xavier jumped, startled by Krishna's sudden appearance and the hard glare he was receiving. "Krish..." he stammered, quickly removing his hands from around Samiksha. "I mean... um... Krishna... Bhaiyya, this is my best friend," he fumbled, trying to explain.
Samiksha, who had been facing away from Krishna, turned around, giggling at Xavier's awkwardness. "Best friend? Huh? You can't even remember my name in front ofâ" Her words trailed off when she saw him.
Oh!
Her eyes widened, and Krishna could see the flicker of recognition, anticipation, and then the same shy spark that he had cherished in his memories. She quickly looked down, her long lashes sweeping over her cheeks, trying to hide her reaction. But Krishna felt itâshe still remembered him, felt the same pull that he did, and that knowledge filled him with a rush of joy.
She bit her lower lip, a habit he remembered well, and Krishna's heart soared. How did she still have this effect on him?
"Iksha, this is Krishna Bhaiyya, Subhadra's elder brother," Xavier interjected, snapping Krishna out of his thoughts.
"Bhaiyya, this is Iksha... Samiksha," he introduced, hesitating for a moment before finally saying her full name.
"Samiksha," Krishna repeated softly, savoring the sound of her name on his lips. It was the first time he had said her name out loud and it did something to his heart.
He noticed the way her fingers nervously clutched the edge of her saree, her breathing quickening. The simple act of saying her name seemed to resonate between them, like a secret shared only by their hearts. He watched as she moved closer to Xavier, her instinct to seek safety in familiarity almost making him smile. Almost.
He shook his head, trying to steady himself. He was a police officer, known for his unyielding demeanor and intimidating presence, yet here he was, undone by the mere sight of her. As he scratched his brow, trying to regain his composure, he told Xavier, "Get in with your friends. Choti is waiting for you." He glanced briefly at Samiksha, his gaze lingering longer than necessary.
"Choti?" she asked, her voice softer than he remembered.
"My sister Subhadra. I call her Choti," Krishna clarified, his eyes never leaving hers. Xavier nodded and hurried towards the house, but not before instructing Samiksha to follow Krishna inside. She hesitated, tugging on Xavier's coat as if seeking reassurance, but he was already gone, leaving her alone with Krishna.
"Shall we, Samiksha?" Krishna asked, his voice tinged with a smile, though his heart hammered against his ribs. This was surrealâafter all these years, here she was, standing before him. No one would believe this moment was real, not even him.
She took careful steps towards him, her lashes fluttering like nervous butterflies. Krishna watched her, his eyes tracing the mehendi patterns on her arms as she moved closer. He took a step back, giving her space, but keeping a close distance between them. He opened the passenger door of his jeep with a flourish, "For you, ma'am," he said, his voice smooth.
But she shook her head, refusing the offer. Krishna arched an eyebrow, confused, and slowly closed the door, crossing his arms as he studied her. His gaze traveled from her toes peeking beneath the hem of her saree up to her flushed face, lingering on her lips stained the color of wine. When their eyes met again, he saw a fire in her that both thrilled and scared him.
She wasn't like any other woman he had met. She was not someone who would easily fall into step beside him, nor would she blindly follow his lead. She wasn't the type to giggle at his jokes or lean on him for support without hesitation. No, she was strong and fiercely independent, and he knew he would have to work for every bit of affection she gave. She wasn't his to command; she was someone he would gladly kneel before, someone who could bring him to his knees without lifting a finger.
Krishna sighed, letting the realization wash over him. His Samiksha wasn't just specialâshe was extraordinary, the kind of woman who would be his everything, if only she let him.
He unlocked the back door of the jeep, gesturing toward it, "Your seat." He almost added "my love" but held back, keeping the sentiment locked in his chest.
She smiledâa small, fleeting thing that made him want to cry from sheer happiness. She stepped forward, slipping past him with a grace that made his heart ache and reached for the door handle. He watched her hand, so close to his, and moved his own hand toward hers, yearning for the slightest touch. But before he could make contact, she pulled her hand back and shut the door with a decisive thud.
Damn it. He cursed under his breath, feeling the sting of his impatience.
How'd he ignore his desires?