13 Shades of Desires ✔[Completed]

Mine When the Music Ends

Summary - Sitting with Riddhima listening to Fifi Nix, Vansh finds out he's done stalling. Rated M, absolutely. PWP

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Why could he never stop looking at her these days?

Dim, artificial light was bathing her in a soft halo, and he felt his lips parting all on their own, his tongue sneaking out to wet parched skin. His heart sank deep inside his chest, as if an unseen knife cut it a larger hole, and he felt lonely in the middle of the crowd. He knew the feeling well, but this night was different.

This night, he longed to come home, arrive at some kind of destination he couldn't name, a place where he would be safe and warm.

He looked at Riddhima again, Fifi Nix' song a sweet background to his growing desire. She was so soft. Her lips, her moist eyes, the satiny skin on her cheeks. The massive flood of dark hair, made to be wrapped around his hand. He closed his eyes and imagined the scene, imagined pulling back her head, making her ready for his hungry, devouring lips- he swallowed and felt his length swell in his pants.

Damn, that was completely his own fault.

He shook his head. This had affected them all, even him, who knew pretty much all about the evil that slumbered inside human nature, had been a part of the circle for so long it had splattered his aura on all kinds of levels.

He'd been infinitely glad when he had realized that Vega had found a home for himself, hadn't become a victim to the ruthless predators inhabiting the planet.

He'd been fully prepared to leave it at that, to keep his secret, stay silent.

But Riddhima's pain had hurt him so much, his good, pure little angel, suffering another soul's agony. It horrified him sometimes how much he'd truly come to trust her. He had always made it a habit not to trust, not to become involved more than he had to, but he had failed. After all his schemes and games and lies and tricks, Vansh Raisinghania was still only human.

When he'd bantered with her in the breakfast area he had still tried to fight it. Had still pretended that everything was harmless and normal. But the dark flower of his feelings had even then filled his guts, sprouting leaves and blossoms until it exploded in longing and compassion and love.

He'd had to make her feel better.

Her tears were falling now, running over her face in small, glistening rivulets. He envied them their right to touch her.

Damn, he was cold all of a sudden, goose bumps spreading over his arms. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into her embrace, hide his face against her neck and feel at home. Feel that there was still love in his life.

He cringed slightly- he had a hard time thinking the l-word, still feeling low and unworthy after all the years of guilt and shame.

He'd kept his nonchalant mask. Had made a flippant remark about her tears, had so hoped to diffuse the tension that was slowly consuming him. He felt tenser than ever.

He followed a shady impulse and put his hand on hers, trapping her small, frail fingers under his larger palm. It felt good, strong, masculine. He pursed his lips to hide his decidedly smug smile. She tensed slightly, her skin warm and soft against his own, before she turned her hand and laced her fingers with his. A shiver ran through his body, inflaming every inch of flesh until he blazed with hunger.

When the song ended and applause roared up all around them he completely missed it at first, preoccupied by the wonderful sensation of her touch. It filled his soul with so much warmth he felt almost sleepy. Ready for that hug now, ready to snuggle up against her in a soft, comfortable bed.