#ipkknd ff
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IPKKND SS: Fall Out of Love
Chapter 1
When days got tough, and nights tougher, Khushi shivered on the poolside floor wondering what did she do wrong. In her religion, everything was a repercussion for a deed done.
The man she loved grew stranger everyday. At one point his anger was in his words, now they lived as impressions on her arms.
God, wouldn't she give her whole life if she got a day to see the softness she had seen when he had danced his way straight into his heart.
At this point she wondered if that ever happened, or if it was product of her crazy mind. Maybe Arnav had never loved her, maybe it was all a result of her obsession with him.
Her sister had been right, Khushi had been fixated far into Arnav, ever since the day she saw him. Even when he wanted nothing to do with her.
At first it was anger, then disrespect, then curiosity, then infatuation and finally...
A cold had settled into Delhi, the winds chilled her bones. Her thin salwar was no match. She could not find herself to take the blanket on the floor.
This time, it was not self preservation. It was insects.
If she tried to get it washed, questions would be raised. The househelp was familiar with the bedroom linen. Why would it be in the garden long enough to get infested? Mami had been suspicious, and Khushi could not bear Arnav directing another play of them being happily married.
She could never see the difference between his acting and reality.
-
The blanket was washed, dried, and neatly packed. The floor was cleared, and an outdoor bedroll was in the corner of the garden.
Tears of joy rolled down her cheeks as she smelled the fresh blanket. Her body cried in relief as she laid down in the mattress.
It was the first time she slept for more than three hours in a month.
-
"Slept well?" Khushi was caught off guard. Not by the question, but the person asking it.
Shyam Manohar Jha.
Khushi ran away, her mind coming to a conclusion it didn't want to.
She bumped into Arnav, anger blazing in his eyes.
Her question of the blanket being washed remain in thin air as Manorama commented on their proximity as lovebirds being unable to separate, not noticing the soft bruise that began to swell in her arms once he left her grip.
In another time, she would've thought she saw true concern in Arnav's eyes over the mention of insects.
But for now, her mind worried over other details.
Over who got her bedding clean and washed.
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
A/N: Thoughts? XOXO (Please ignore any typos/grammar errors)
tagging: @shaonsim @zaphbeeblebrox @shiyaravi @chutkiandchotte @featheredclover @goals1024 @honeybellexox @darkchocolatestuff @thedupattaknowswhatsup @bigfatreader @lostafpanda @exosexosekai @hi-this-is-permabanned @scorpio-smiles @noor1025 @minpdnim @laad-governess @barshifan @whateverworks21 @maansiloves @samuraisamsworld @dropsofserenity @myloveforstuff @leila1 @onadaanparindey @dimaagkadahi @ijustchangedmyname @australian-desi @muttonthings @aye-masakalii @phuljari @msbhagirathi @rae-blogging (updating this list - lemme know who wants to be added/deleted)
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OS: Khanak
can also be read here as well: wordpress
What once was, was no longer a secret. Arnav Singh Raizada’s eyes were reserved for his wife, and there wasn’t anything that would ever be distracting enough for him to not notice what was his Khushi thinking.
This fateful evening, the two were getting ready to attend a dinner thrown by one of the investors of AR. When he had first asked Khushi to start accompanying him to dinners, he had been skeptical of her fitting in with the snooty society that valued brands, and summers abroad over local cuisine and monsoon, but much to his surprise, Khushi was a favorite amongst the wives of the men he associated it for her animated responses to their absurd stories.
He was stuffing the neck scarf when Khushi finally stepped out of the bathroom dressed in a bright orange silk sari with sequins bordering the length of it. Her hair was partially dry with a towel wrapped at the ends with the overgrown bangs framing her face. His eyes automatically shifted to observe her movements while continuing to adjust his own clothes.
She moved frantically towards the vanity table he had been standing in front of to pull out blush and kajal. He was always surprised by how little make-up her skin required after moisturizing. How did she never get pimples? She carelessly threw the pink pigment on her cheeks while the towel hung over her shoulder.
Her eyes met his in the mirror, and she stood still for a moment. “Humein zada waqt nahi lage ga! pakka!” [I won’t take too long! Promise!]
Her hands moved towards the small brass holder with kajal, one that she pulled out the stick of with startling ease and slid in between her waterline and lid. He stepped back giving her more space and picked up his cologne before observing the flush on her face. She reached for a colored pencil to underline her eyes with before using the leftover blush on the brush to brush over her eyelids and using the liner to accentuate them further.
Her eyes now appeared more bright than before. He had fallen for her eyes, and every single time he looked at them, he couldn’t figure out whether he had adored them as much as they deserved to be.
She rushed to throw the towel off her hair and threw it over the bed. He let out a sigh and picked it up to place on the back of the recliner. Was it her, or did girls barely care where they threw things in haste to get ready? His eyes had moved away from her face for a second, and he missed the moment she put the jhumke on.
Her hand hovered about the vanity table for something else. What else did she need, he wondered. She looked perfect as is. But he was wrong. She bent slightly to open the drawer for something. He peeked in to see what it could be. He was pleasantly surprised.
She pulled out bangles. Yellow and orange, glass bangles that jingled the moment she placed the box on the table. Was it the one he thought it was? Her fingers ran through her hair to set them behind her before slowly moving to displace the bangles from the box to their rightful place but what she was unaware of, was that her husband had been standing back observing every single movement.
“Ruko.” [wait] he said, and her hands halted midair with a surprise.
“Kya hua?” [What happened?] she asked, confused
“May I?” His hands stretched out towards her while the other covered the box before them. She smiled, and her eyes twinkled.
His fingers slipped inside the box, and slowly took out a couple before moving towards her hand. Her fingers, ever so delicate rested in between his. Ever so gently, he slipped the glass bangles onto her wrist, listening to their khanak as they fell over one another.
“Yeh wohi hain na?” [they are those ones, aren’t they?] He asked.
“Aap ko yaad hai?” [You remember?]
“Kaise bhool sakta hoon.” [How can I forget]
He continued slipping them in, letting the jingling echo in between them while meeting her eyes. The small smile refused to leave their faces. It felt like yesterday when he had found himself lurking around her to get a glimpse of whether she had accept his gift.
He had wanted then, when she had been asked to remove to dupatta from her hands; and now just as he slipped the last of the set onto her wrist for time to suspend itself with nothing but the echos of her bangles to ring in between. He stared at her adorned hands, and pulled them to his lips to kiss her wrists and fingers.
“You look beautiful!”
“kyun ke hum ne aap ki pasand ki chudiyaan pehni hain?” [because I am wearing your choice of bangles?] she teased.
He shook his head but then pulled her hand towards him. The bangles crashed against one another, and her eyes looked into his’ from merely an inch away. “Tumhe kya lagta hai?” [what do you think?] He asked.
She didn’t reply, but he saw the twinkle in her eyes. She broke away from his pull without answering, to fill her part, fix her hair, and spray the perfume he had gotten for her all while his eyes remained transfixed on her.
“Chalein?” she said once done. He nodded and walked over to pick up his phone while she picked up the small potli to slip onto her wrist.
The remainder of the night was engaging but not enough for Arnav Singh Raizada’s ears to not perk up at every jingling of his wife’s anklets and bangles. His eyes would momentarily lose sight of her every now and then, but her ornaments did their best to beckon him towards her.
If his eyes looked for hers at any given instance, then his ears listened for twinkling sounds that wrapped around all of her presence.
#SoundCloud#urkkgsr#ipkknd#iss pyaar ko kya naam doon#iss pyaar ko kya naam doon fan fiction#ipkknd ff#arhi#arshi
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Favourite IPKKND noncanon fanfics # 22
(1) False Impressions by Gargee & Bingala
(incomplete as of now, but worth reading)
(2) Salve by Anupama
An officer bogged down by his rough origins meets an unlikely accomplice
(3) The photographer by InvisibleSmile
(4) What's cooking by RTlicious
A culinary streak of the arshi magic! The author's expertise in cooking shines through each chapter~
(5) Red lighting by RTlicious
A cop and a prostitute meet for the night, but is there more to it than meets the eye?
(6) Maid in love! by RTlicious
A tale of pretence, tactics and love
(7) Bodyguard by RTlicious
The grey eyed stiff bodyguard must be distracted , and who better than KKG?
(8) Rogue agents by RTlicious
Parting ways are bittersweet, but rarely do they end up in a romp
(9) When I met you! by RTlicious
What happens when a series of confusion leads to an explosive love story?
(10) The learning curve by RTlicious
A parent teacher meeting turns into a ruckus, paving way for an endearing love story
#ipkknd#ipkknd non canon ffs#arnav singh raizada#khushi kumari gupta#arshi#arnav and khushi#this took way too long
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drop in some cool arshi fic recs besties I’m lost 😩
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Hi! Okay this is a long shot and idk if you even know anything about this lol, but I’m just going to shoot my shot. Okay so I watched IPKKND ages ago and recently discovered that it’s on Hulu so obvs I had to rewatch. Anyways watching it is making me want to reread all the old ffs I liked! Unfortunately, most of them were deleted from IF 😢, but one of my favs was Kushi from Maya Hill. I know she moved to her own website and I even read it earlier this year! I wanted to do ANOTHER reread but I can’t access the website anymore! It apparently doesn’t exist. The fic is still on IF but it’s stops at ch 81 but if memory serves it actually goes to like ch 118 or something. Do you know anything about the website issue?? I can’t find another way to contact Maya. If she took her work off I’m going to be DISTRAUGHT!!!!!!
I have no idea!
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The euphoria I just experienced in the past 30 seconds! I saw your post for BTS songs for IPKKND! I WAS NOT READY FOR TWO OF MY BIGGEST OBSESSIONS TO COLLIDE LIKE THAT TODAY! And then I realised you are also the author of some of my fav ipkknd FF??!?!!??!
Hahaha. First of all, thank you for reading and liking my work. And yes, 2021 was finally the year I fell down the K-pop rabbit hole. I'm no longer actively in the IPK fandom but I do enjoy the occasional dips and that question was a nice little combo of two things I enjoy.
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Hello! Can you please pretty please write an ipkknd FF again?
I haven't thought about IPKKND in so long, so I don't know. My obsession with it is cyclical in nature, so perhaps one day I'll be obsessed again!
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I wrote a thing after an eternity. Anyway, here’s an Ode to Khushi, courtesy of one Arnav Singh Raizada
——————————
She comes to my home like the monsoon wind
With the hope and life it brings
She passes by like a thunderstorm
To wash away my sins
She comes to my home like a starry night
That brightens up the sky
But no nightly lights can compare
To the twinkle in her eye
She comes to my home like fairy bells
A symphony in art
The magic of her tinkling laugh
Heals my wretched heart
She comes to my home like a calming balm
All suffering she seeks to ease
She graces us with her smiles and warmth
And brings peace to my house of peace
She comes to my home like a trusted friend,
Who knows me, not my disguise
Hand in hand and eye to eye
We set out to conquer the skies
~ fin ~
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this whole fuckinh sequence i swear takes me out every single time
ipkknd fanfic titled waves and particles written by rockbarbie on india forums.
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Tu Safar Mera — COMPLETE!
Our fic is finally complete! Read the final chapter here on Wattpad!
To read form the start go here <3 <3 <3
#tu safar mera#chapter 17#arshi#arshi ff#ipkknd#ipkknd ff#iss pyaar ko kya naam doon#arnav singh raizada#khushi kumari gupta#kkgsr#by kkgsrkisanak#we wrote a thing#thanks for reading
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Hi, hope you are doing well. I love your fanfictions and your take on the show....I know alot of people ask you this... but will you ever update footprint in the sand... I miss that story. Thanks
Hello,
I am doing alright. I will be updating Footprints on Sand soon. I do struggle with chronic disorders, and I have a pretty busy life as well. I also got COVID over the summer and recovering been quite rough.
Keeping myself alive, and reminding myself that I have free will is more of a priority than engaging with fandom spaces.
I absolutely miss doing the analysis posts and writing fanfics. I hope I am able to find myself back sooner than later. I'll be thankful to anyone who sticks around whenever the next update happens, however like I've stated multiple times before, I came back to IPKKND for myself and I started writing fics and doing episode analyses for myself.
I hope that's respected by the numerous messages and comments I've received. I promised to finish FOS and stick with that, but I cannot give you a specific timeline or updated schedule.
Thank you for checking in!
-LG&SD
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Rangrasiya FF recs
Deviating from my usual ipkknd re-watch, I stumbled upon another spectacular work of Sanaya Irani and Ashish Sharma- 'Rangrasiya' . And of course, the fanfictions I found did the chemistry between the leads absolute justice! I think the Paro - Rudra universe will be enjoyed by my fellow ipkknd readers! So give it a try and let me know ❤️!!
(1) Major Saab's kiss by Sonia/ desisoapie
(2) Kaleidoscope by Sonia / desisoapie
(3) Labyrinth of love by Sonia / desisoapie
(4) The accidental romance by likitha
(5) Of understandings by chotidesi
(6) Blindfolded by chotidesi
(7) Peccatum: seven deadly sins by chotidesi
(8) Veritas: Paro by chotidesi
Veritas:Rudra by chotidesi
(9) Combust by chotidesi
(10) Mirrors by chotidesi
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Obedience
Rated: M for MMmmmmm I shouldn’t have done this
Word Count: 2558
working title: arnav is a dom and someone should say it (obviously this fic contains elements of dominance, some very light/gentle throat action, and like my god its... really heterosexual so if any of that is not your thing, this probably isnt)
Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada didn’t like being told what to do. Not in a general sense, at least. It chafed her free and independent spirit when people - Arnav - thought they could order her about and expect their dictates obeyed without question. It could potentially be argued that if she didn’t like being told what to do, she should’ve thought of that before she married a man notorious for telling everyone, including people he didn’t know, what to do. Although if that were the case, it could also be argued that the man in question should have thought twice before marrying a disobedient woman… twice.
And while it irritated her beyond belief when he would storm into the house, into their bedroom, all ablaze with irritation from his workday, she also couldn’t deny that it did… something to her to watch him yank at his tie and tear at his cufflinks. A muscle in his jaw would be flexing, his hair beginning to escape its careful styling to hang forwards over his blazing eyes in a manner that could only be described as decidedly roguish. She would watch in silence while the cold tycoon was replaced by her fiery husband. It was strange. Anger had been such a defining aspect of their relationship, she wasn’t sure what it was about his anger within the walls of their bedroom, especially when it wasn’t directed at her, that made her want to be in his line of fire. It made her want to be burned to cinders by his fire.
She needed help. She’d married Arnav, of course she needed help.
She especially knew she needed it when she, who hated being told what to do, would feel an odd sort of thrill creep up her spine when he would fix her with a certain look. That shiver was often the precursor to each and every one of her bones turning into a puddle of mush, replaced by a liquid heat whenever he would draw near. He would stand behind her, so close that she could feel the heat from his chest burning through the back of her clothes, lean down so he could rub the rough stubble of his cheek against hers, smirking against her hypersensitive flesh when she’d shiver in response. It was embarrassing. He knew exactly what he was doing. And then he would have the audacity to put his arms around her, his hands wrapping around hers in a stilling grip, holding her captive in the cage of his embrace. Sometimes, she’d wonder whether he knew she felt like a doe trapped by an arrow when he did that, but when he’d press his body against hers and hold her wrists still against the counter so she couldn’t move, she had her answer. He knew exactly what he was doing. He’d told her once that he could totally disarm her, strip her of her every defense. He wasn’t wrong. He could strip her of more than her defenses, if she was being entirely candid.
But she didn’t like being told what to do. Not when he would trace the shell of her ear with his lips, ignoring the fact that he had her cornered in the kitchen where anyone could walk in at any moment. Definitely not when she would try to ignore the dark heat unfurling in the pit of her stomach at the thought. She didn’t like being ordered about when he would tell her he wanted her upstairs immediately after dinner.
“Don’t make me say it again,” he’d whisper into her ear, his arms tightening around her as he spoke. “If I have to come down here to get you, there’ll be consequences.” He’d accentuate his words by catching the lobe of her ear with his teeth in a sharp nip of warning and she’d barely manage to swallow her cry of surprise.
Consequences. What the hell did that mean? And who exactly did he think he was, threatening her with consequences if she didn’t present herself to him in a timely fashion? She’d meant to tell him just that when he’d give her a final squeeze before he’d disappear into the living room, leaving her flushed and feeling as if every nerve in her body was on fire.
He’d keep his eyes on her throughout dinner, tracking her every movement while she bustled around the table, serving everyone. She’d pretend she didn’t feel his fingers brushing over hers in a brazen gesture of ownership everytime she handed him something, pretending she didn’t feel his hand take up residence at the small of her back while she stood pouring somebody a glass of water. Eventually, his patience would run out, and he’d grab her wrist in a restricting grip again, tugging her towards the seat beside him. Immediately, the smiles and the teasing would begin.
‘Oh Chote, you take such good care of Khushiji!’
‘Phati Sari lives a life of luxury, I see!’
She almost wished she could announce it there, that the only reason he was so concerned with making sure she ate quickly was because he had … nefarious intentions with her. But that would go against his instructions, not to mention embarrass everyone else, and she knew well that Arnav expected to be obeyed to a fault. Especially when it came to matters of the … bedroom. So she’d eaten in silence, nearly biting a chunk of her tongue off when his errant hand started a wayward journey up her thigh under the table. Casting a stern glance his way, she’d halted its progress dangerously close to its destination, closing her own fingers around his and squeezing in silent warning. Far from being cowed, he squeezed right back, grinning rakishly at her and tugging her hand towards his own lap instead. Helpless to resist, she could do nothing but fix him with a displeased stare as he deposited her hand on his thigh before he resumed eating his dinner like he hadn’t just tried to grope her at a table full of people and wasn’t now daring her to do the same.
Fine. Maybe she would. She pictured her fingers trailing upwards, firmly grasping the length of him and squeezing. Not hard enough to have him be useless to her for the next few hours, but firmly enough to let him know she could be in charge too. She caught his gaze then, saw the challenge there and decided she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction today. Instead, she began to trail her fingers downwards, intending to return her hand to her own lap when he caught it and kept it trapped in his grasp. He made no move to return either of their hands to any risky areas, seeming content at that moment to simply grasp it in his own. She was suspicious.
Jiji and Di volunteered to clean up after dinner, ensuring that Khushi had no excuse other than to watch her husband climb the stairs and cast a look of warning back at her before he disappeared into their room. Part of her balked at the thought of obeying his imperious summons, almost inviting the consequences he’d threatened her with earlier. The other half almost ached to follow him blindly and obey his every word. Her feet were moving before she even knew it. She was up the stairs and standing in the doorway of their room before she’d realized which half had won. He seemed to sense her gaze on him and turned to face her, his dark eyes taking in the sight of her poised at the door.
“I said I wanted you inside.” Arnav said simply, crossing his arms across his chest, and the flex of the muscle against his sweater, which was really too tight, sent a thrill immediately down to her very core.
“You said you wanted me upstairs,” she reminded him snidely, taking a tiny step backwards so she stood just outside of their door. “I’m upstairs. Technically, I haven’t disobeyed a word.”
A grin spread across her face when his expression shifted to a stern look of displeasure.
“You know what I mean-”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” she interrupted on a breathless laugh, dancing backwards as he began to advance. “You’ll have to be more specific next time.”
“Oh, I’ll be plenty specific in a minute,” he growled, and she felt her insides tighten in anticipation at the dark promise in his voice.
“Don’t push me, Khushi,” he said softly, his hands braced on either side of the doorway, his eyes blazing in her direction with unspoken warnings. “I’ll come after you, and I’ll take what I want wherever I catch you.”
She should have been scandalized by the threat. Instead, she felt hot and on-edge, eager to test whether he would make good on his warning. She took another wobbling step backwards, delighting in the primal noise that escaped him. Arnav lunged for her before she had a chance to make her escape, pinning her against the wall and aligning his body with hers so she could feel every muscular, hard inch.
“When I tell you to do something, I expect it to be done.” He whispered against her ear, his hands giving her pinned wrists an admonishing squeeze.
“You don’t tell me what to do.” She whispered the words that had bubbled beneath the surface of her lust all night, revelling in the expression that came over his face. In the way he shifted to scoop her into his arms and moved decidedly into the bedroom.
Khushi gave a soft gasp of surprise as he tossed her onto the bed, shutting and locking the door behind him. She’d barely caught her breath when he pounced on her, settling his body possessively over hers. Her thighs instinctively fell open to cradle him and the masculine sound of approval he made was nearly her undoing.
“I don’t tell you what to do?” Arnav breathed softly, his mouth hovering over hers, brushing against her lips, once, twice. His hands found their way up her body, pausing in their ascent to take stock of their favourite places, to trace their favourite curves, before one came to rest at the base of her throat, his fingers curling around the shape of her throat, massaging the soft skin there in a blatant gesture of dominance. His other hand dipped beneath her bodice to toy with her aching flesh, molding to the shape of her breast.
She couldn’t find the words to respond, tossing her head in wordless protest, even as a desperate sound tore from her throat as she arched towards him. He pulled back, his eyes taking in the flush spreading its way across her face and chest. The raw intimacy in his gaze, the fact that they both knew that he knew from experience exactly how far the flush spread beneath her clothes brought a surge of raw heat to her aching centre that had her squirming beneath him.
Arnav sat back and motioned for her to sit up with the crook of his finger. She obeyed, immediately regretting it when he smirked in response, yanking her against him.
“Don’t I though? I don’t even have to tell you, you’re so eager to submit to me.”
One hand tangled in her hair, angling her head back to bare her throat to him in a primal gesture of submission. The other reached around to yank at the fastenings to her shirt and when he snarled impatiently and the sound of tearing fabric reached her ears, Khushi couldn’t bring herself to be anything other than jelly in his arms. He was peeling the cloth away from her heated body, his mouth instantly devouring the skin he bared. She felt him nip at her throat, and she cried out even as he soothed the sting with his tongue. He pulled her pants off and she was sure they joined the scraps of her shirt somewhere on the floor of their bedroom.
His hands braced on either side of her head as he bore down over her, fully clothed in contrast to her naked form that welcomed the cool air. Her body reacted to the fire in his regard and she pressed her thighs together in a desperate attempt to alleviate the ache between them. His eyes caught the movement and a low noise of pleasure came from him.
“Mine,” he growled against her skin, his mouth closing over her breast while his hand pushed between her thighs and stroked the slick heat there. A moan tore from her throat, his fingers and tongue building a wave within her that threatened to burst forth and destroy them both.
“Say it,” he pressed, pushing a finger into where she ached for him the most and she nodded wordlessly, desperately, in response, threading her fingers through his dark hair and pulling his head back to her.
“Give me the words, Khushi,” he growled, going still in the worst sort of torment. “Come on, baby, give them to me.”
“Yours,” she cried out, reaching for him and gasping in pleasure when he folded himself into her waiting arms, resuming his ministrations. “All yours.”
He pressed his thumb against the centre of her, rubbing in a delicate circle that robbed her of her ability to breathe before he pushed down hard in a move that made the wave that had been hovering over her for so long come crashing down. She was dimly aware of the sound of his name on her lips, falling forth like the most ardent prayer repeated time and time again.
He answered by pulling away long enough to rip his shirt off over his head and toss it aside, yanking at his sweatpants with the same desperation and returning to her body. They both moaned at the contact of their bare skin, and her fingers took the opportunity to leave his hair and explore the ripples of muscle that lined his chest and abdomen. An odd sort of satisfaction stole through her at the thought that this magnificent specimen of masculinity belonged to her. That she held his reins firmly in her hands.
He shifted his body for a moment and, without a word, she spread her legs for him, allowing his hands to angle her hips for him. He made a sound of approval at her acquiescence that drove a thrill of heat through her before he lowered his body over hers again and kissed her. His body moved against hers and she threw her head back, digging her nails into his back and arching up to meet him, the wave of heat within her building again. Her moans melded with his as she wound herself around him, no longer sure of where she ended and where he began.
And when she thought she simply couldn’t bear anymore, that he would take from her until she could give no more, he let her go over the edge again and joined her there. And when he gathered her up in his arms afterwards, holding her close, placing gentle kisses on her forehead, and stroking up and down her back, she found it within herself to admit one small thing. Maybe - just maybe - Khushi Kumari Gupta Singh Raizada didn’t mind being told what to do after all.
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Arshi FF: Tere Bin - Chapter 8
Read from the beginning | Chapter 7
Chapter 8: Ranjha (listen while reading)
Khushi
“What was he doing here?”
Khushi answered without turning, her head resting on the window sill as she studied the moon. “I don’t know.”
It’d taken a long time to escape to the room she shared with her sister after they’d first stepped through the doors. First, Amma had asked about the hospital visit, making Khushi recite everything the Doctor Sahib had said while Bua-ji interrupted often to ask questions. Babu-ji had soon taken over, asking to see the paperwork Khushi had collected and asking a few questions of his own. Still full from the gol gappe, Khushi had nibbled on some puri under Jiji’s watchful gaze while the family considered the payment plan the clinic had laid out.
Luckily, no one had asked exactly how she’d gotten home.
“You were in his car, Khushi.” Jiji came to stand next to her, her tone coloured with disapproval.
“The auto broke down. He was driving past.”
“He, of all the people in Lucknow and Delhi, just happened to be driving by? At the exact moment your auto broke down?”
An odd defensiveness flared in her chest, words popping out of her mouth before she’d thought them through.
“What can I say, Jiji? My phone’s battery was dead, it was dark. He offered to drop me home.”
Jiji reached out to touch her shoulder. “Did he fight with you again?”
No, he bought me gol gappe.
“No more than usual,” Khushi tried to smile at her sister. “I’m fine. Really. He drove me home. That’s all.”
Though she looked unconvinced, Jiji stepped away with a nod to ready herself for bed. Khushi waited until she was alone to snatch her bag from where it hung on a hook. Her searching fingers found the business card he’d offered.
“Well, it’s just that you like arguing so much, and we argue so often … I think we should keep in touch.”
At the time, she’d been so startled that she’d simply taken the card and slid from the car without answering. Jiji, fortunately, had been too busy scowling at him through the windows to notice as she’d slipped it into her bag.
The card was thick, the surface almost velvety to the touch. It sported a bright red logo in the top corner and announced his name in crisp black letters — ARNAV SINGH RAIZADA. Khushi shook her head to clear the unbidden memory of correcting his name on hundreds of letters.
The writing on the card included a number she recognised for the reception desk at the head offices and an email address that his managers monitored. But he’d scrawled another number untidily along one side with a black pen.
His personal number, Khushi realised with a jolt.
It felt strangely intimate, though logic reminded her that she’d had the same number saved in her phone before he’d broken it on the storeroom floor.
Why is he still in Lucknow?
On the heels of this thought came another: Why should I care?!
Her mind was suddenly awhirl with memories — raised voices and shouted words, a fall from his window, the broken door to the storeroom. His airs about money and power. The terror of the guesthouse.
Khushi ripped the business card in half, her breath coming in rapid pants, and then tore it into even smaller pieces. Tears stung in her eyes. She scrunched the pieces into her palm as Jiji returned to the room.
“Make sure you wake up early tomorrow,” her sister draped her towel near the window. “We’re going to the temple.”
“Okay.”
Waiting until Jiji was occupied with something in the cupboard, Khushi returned the ruined card to her bag. In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and washed her face before studying her reflection. Her pulse was a chaotic drumbeat in her body, her thoughts a wild tangle. And underneath it all was something that thrilled and scared her at the same time, something that had followed her to Lucknow.
#####
“Everything leads back to him,” Jiji had groaned, rolling on her side on the bed they shared. “Just go to sleep quietly.”
It had been a week since they’d returned to Lucknow, and Khushi had been comparing the price of potatoes between Lucknow and Delhi. Or at least, that was how the conversation had started. She couldn’t remember how they’d gotten to talking about that Laad Governor.
“You’re right Jiji. We’re in Lucknow now and we’ll soon forget that we ever went to Delhi. Or that we met such cruel, haughty people. Although … Anjali-ji had such sweetness in her. It’s a shame that we had to leave without saying goodbye to her. At least we met one nice person in Delhi. Oh … and Nani-ji. Maybe two nice people. And Aakash-ji, I suppose, though —”
“— Khushi! Are you going to count out every member of his family? Your mind is like a compass that’s always stuck on him!”
“And why wouldn’t it be?” Khushi had asked hotly. “He sent me there to do some meaningless task, knowing the place was about to collapse.”
“I know. You’ll never have to see him again, Khushi. You resigned from that awful job, you gave him an earful, and now you’re here and he’s there.”
The words should have elated her, but they only left her feeling strangely hollow.
#####
That hollowness sat heavily inside her as Khushi joined her sister in their bed a few minutes later, sliding between the covers with a sigh.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jiji’s voice was soft in the dimness.
“Yes.”
“You barely ate dinner.”
“I’m not hungry.”
A short silence, in which Khushi’s mind unhelpfully replayed the way she’d fallen into his arms yet again.
Oh Devi Maiyya, couldn’t you find another place to make me slip? You mustn’t have liked the offering I left you this morning.
“I’m glad we came back to Babu-ji,” Jiji said softly. “I can’t imagine being away from home at a time like this.”
“The doctors said that as long as he rests properly and takes his medicines, there’s nothing to worry about.”
“He isn’t resting nearly enough, even with both of us at the shop.”
Khushi nodded her agreement, “He’s worried about the bills.”
“Bua-ji and Amma are talking about selling some jewellery. I thought I’d give them my bangles.”
“I have bangles we can sell too.”
It took a while for Jiji’s breathing to fall into the deep, slow rhythm of sleep. Khushi lay awake, her thoughts chasing each other in ever-tightening spirals.
The night of the photoshoot. The softness of her pallu as it slipped. The scorch of his gaze as it roved over her body and left her feeling singed. The electricity between them on Teej, every touch a bolt of lightning. The weight of him pressing into her in the storeroom.
She flushed, skin prickling and warmth blooming in secret places.
Stop it, Khushi. A handful of gol gappe is all it takes for you to forget his cruelty?
She turned onto her side with a huff. Sometimes it felt as though her life had been split into Before and After, as though falling at the fashion show had created an entirely new Khushi Kumari Gupta. A Khushi who was strangely compelled towards him, a Khushi who’d come dangerously close to swooning in his arms today. A Khushi who wanted something she had no name for.
“I didn’t know the situation at the guesthouse was that bad!”
“Do you really think I would’ve sent you there if I’d known? Is that what you think of me?”
For the first time, she allowed herself to entertain the idea that he hadn’t sent her there on purpose.
So what if he hadn’t? I was still trapped there for an entire day. He was wrong.
But the thought was impossible to dislodge now that it’d wormed into her mind. Having assumed he’d wanted to argue every time he’d approached her, she now considered whether he might have been trying to explain. She saw their interactions in a new light. The sweets, the cheque.
Did he feel guilty? Was he trying to say sorry?
She eventually fell into an uneasy sleep, tormented in her dreams by his eyes, his voice, the memory of his touch. She woke just before dawn, breathless and damp with sweat, the sheets tangled with her legs. Flinging them off, Khushi sat up in bed. Her sister made a questioning noise.
“Sleep, Jiji. It’s not time to wake up yet.”
A nameless storm raged in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She squeezed her eyes shut.
I should hate him.
A lurch in her tummy.
But I don’t.
Padding slowly over to her bag, she fished out the pieces of the business card one by one. There was a roll of tape amongst the paper and pens scattered on the table in the corner. Khushi glanced back at her sister as she sat. It took a few minutes to line up the jagged edges, to press the tape along them with trembling fingers until she could read his name again.
He’d set down a challenge. She wouldn’t back down.
********
Thanks for reading :) I know some of you may be disappointed with the level of introspection in this chapter and where I chose to end it. Tere Bin is Arnav’s story, one where he has to work out what he wants and how to get it while Khushi is in Lucknow. While I intend to dip into Khushi’s point of view where the story demands it (and I feel that her presence greatly improved Chapters 6 and 7), it will focus heavily on Arnav. I am not intentionally writing something to annoy or disappoint readers. I’m trying to do something very specific with this story, and like all experiments, I’m learning as I go :)
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Fragmented Colors (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/HVHfbbKRBU Where do you find a love so potent, it crosses the boundaries of distance and time itself?
Publishing my first ever completed story on wattpad yayyy!
#arhi#arshi#asr#fanfiction#fragmentedcolors#ipkknd#isspyaarkokyanaamdoon#kkg#kkgsr#lovestory#romance#books#wattpad#amwriting#ipkknd ff#arshi ff#arhi ff
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Hello! Hope you are doing well♥️
Is an ipkknd FF on the horizon?😉 *begs*
Hi hi, I hope you're well too. Ahhh, I don't think so, I didn't think of IPKKND until I saw it in my inbox :(
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