Sari, Not Sorry
It was a rare moment of calm in the Raizada house. The usual chaos had settled for the evening, leaving behind a strangely serene atmosphere. But in the midst of that quiet, Khushi Kumari Gupta was experiencing a whirlwind of emotions. The kind she never imagined she'd be dealing with.
Khushi stood in front of the large mirror in the bedroom, adjusting the end of her sari with a serious frown on her face. She had just gotten ready for a family dinner, and even though she had tried, once again, to make her sari look perfect, something wasn’t quite right.
No, she wasn’t worried about how she looked. It wasn’t vanity. It was the fact that she had spent the last 20 minutes tying her pallu in the wrong way, convinced that Arnav was the only one who could help her with it. And since he had walked in on her tying it the wrong way for the third time that evening, he had decided to assist.
She grimaced at the thought of him teasing her about it. Arnav Singh Raizada and her pallu were always a tricky combination. The fact that they had even come to some sort of understanding over the years was a miracle.
Just as she was about to redo the pleats for the hundredth time, the door creaked open, and in walked Arnav, looking every bit the part of the grumpy CEO. His dark suit was crisp, his hair in that perfect, untamed state, and his eyes… as usual, full of that familiar spark of mischief.
"Khushi," he said with a smirk, noticing the deep concentration on her face, "still struggling with your pallu?"
Khushi jumped a little, flustered. "Arnav ji, I - uh - I’m fine!" she stammered. "I’m just…" She trailed off, nervously adjusting the pallu again.
"Right," Arnav said, walking toward her, "because you’re doing a great job of pretending. Let me help you."
She quickly shook her head, pushing his hands away. "No, no, no! I can do it myself!"
"Don’t be ridiculous," Arnav said with a grin, effortlessly taking the end of her pallu in his hands. "You’re the one who’s been tying it for half an hour, and we’re still not even close."
Khushi folded her arms across her chest and pouted, turning away from him. "Well, excuse me, Mr. Perfectionist! I don’t need help. I can handle it on my own."
Arnav raised an eyebrow, a glint of amusement in his eyes. He took a step closer, brushing the back of her neck with his fingertips. "It’s not about perfection, Khushi. It’s about not looking like a tornado."
"I don’t look like a tornado!" she retorted quickly, but there was no denying that his closeness was doing funny things to her. Stop it, Khushi! She scolded herself mentally.
But of course, Arnav didn’t give her a chance to finish the thought. In an effortless movement, he began to expertly adjust the pleats, his fingers brushing against her skin in a way that sent electricity straight through her.
Khushi froze. "Arnav ji…"
"What?" he asked, his voice low and calm, though his expression was a touch too pleased with himself.
Khushi bit her lip, feeling her heart race. "Nothing."
"Nothing, huh?" Arnav smirked, leaning in closer. His breath was warm against her ear as he whispered, "Are you sure?"
Khushi’s mind scrambled for a response. Stop it, Khushi. You’re not supposed to feel like this. It’s just Arnav. Your future husband. Nothing more.
"Arnav ji, you’re making me nervous!" she squeaked, stepping away quickly and spinning around to face him.
Arnav, however, wasn’t fazed. If anything, the way she tried to keep her distance only seemed to amuse him further. His lips twitched into a smirk as he took another step closer, his body now blocking her path.
"Making you nervous?" he asked, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "Or are you just pretending you’re not enjoying this?"
Khushi’s eyes widened. "I - what? I’m not -"
"Yes, you are," Arnav cut in smoothly. "I can tell by the way you’re avoiding my eyes. But don’t worry, Khushi. I know how much you secretly enjoy my company."
Khushi glared at him, though there was a flush creeping up her neck. "You’re impossible, Arnav ji!"
"Impossible?" he said, a teasing glimmer in his eyes. "I’m not the one who can’t tie a sari."
She gasped, mortified. "Arnav!"
Before she could protest any further, there was a sudden sound from the doorway - a loud, almost exaggerated cough.
Arnav and Khushi both turned in the direction of the noise. Standing in the doorway, with a mischievous smile plastered on her face, was none other than Anjali.
"Well, well," Anjali said, her voice dripping with mock innocence. "What’s going on in here? Did I interrupt something?"
Khushi’s face turned beet red, and she started wringing her hands in panic. "Anjali Di, I… I wasn’t - "
Anjali, ever the one to enjoy some light teasing, raised her hand in the air and dramatically shook her head. "Oh, no need to explain, Khushi. I get it. You and Arnav… having a ‘moment.’"
Khushi’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. "A moment?! Anjali Di, it’s not -"
"Oh, stop it!" Anjali laughed, stepping into the room and throwing a playful arm around Khushi’s shoulders. "I was just joking. I mean, Arnav, you do look like you’re enjoying the moment a little too much."
Khushi’s brain had already short-circuited. Why does this always happen to me?
She shot Arnav a look of pure embarrassment. "You - You - " she stammered.
Arnav raised both hands in mock surrender. "Don’t look at me, Khushi. You’re the one who keeps getting caught in compromising situations." He shot Anjali a playful look. "And don’t pretend you didn’t see this coming."
Anjali just grinned at the pair of them, clearly relishing the chaos she’d just introduced into the room. "Well, if you two are done with your little rendezvous, dinner’s ready downstairs." She winked at Khushi. "But I have to admit, it’s adorable watching you two try to pretend like nothing’s going on."
Khushi groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Anjali Di, please! I can’t take this!"
Arnav chuckled, enjoying the show. He turned to his sister. "You really know how to make someone feel special, Anjali."
Anjali just laughed and shook her head. "Don’t worry, Khushi, I won’t tell anyone. But… next time, maybe try to keep your ‘moments’ less obvious?"
Khushi, still a deep shade of red, glared at Arnav. "This is all your fault, Arnav ji!"
Arnav smirked, walking past both of them with a confident stride. "You’re welcome."
And with that, he casually strolled out of the room, leaving behind two very flustered women in his wake.
comment:
p_commentcount