KANCH SI MOHABBAT an Amveer Fanfiction

Twelve

Second installment today, read the previous chapter if you missed it.

Summary: Aur kaha jaati main...?

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He dreams of her leaving.

Not just walking away but dissipating. In endless corridors, twisted and closing in - she walks ahead of him, long unbound hair dancing with her steps - anklets given by him chiming in her wake.

At first he thinks they are still fighting for that stupid key to the liquor cupboard, tucked into her waist along with the end of her pallu, but then the game goes on and on, with her always out of his arms reach.

"Amrit stop -" he calls after her, exhausted, pleading. "Amrit! Amrit! Am -"

Veer wakes up with half of her name in his cracked lips, his throat protesting against the effort it took to form those syllables.

Stubbornly still, he pushes through.

"Amrit..."

"Ji?"

He jerks at that more than the pain of speaking.

A cold hand steadies him before he  unset his injured shoulder too badly. For some reason, Veer had been convinced that he lost her, that now he peers around rather fearfully.

Amrit is there.

It takes him a few moments of rapid blinking to get used to the light in the room.

She is looking down at him, puffing up a pillow so he can lean back properly.

Her hand remains on his arm, though no longer supporting his shoulder. That arm has been tied into a sling. He dismisses that sign of personal injury in order to examine Amrit more thoroughly.

She is wearing her hair down, like he had been dreaming about, and a new saari - one that he doesn't remember seeing. It's dusky blue and rather becoming on her. And she wears Sindoor on her parting.

Veer draws in a breath that ends up in a painful cough.

So she is lost to him after all.

Pain shoots through him like a lance, one that seemed to pierce his lungs. She pats on his back, her face concerned. Veer grits his teeth, drawing a breath through his teeth as he does so.

He wishes she takes her hands off him and let him just die in peace. There is fire in his throat now, and he can't manage any more words.

Amrit knows, though, she understands. It hurts how easily she reads him.

It makes Veer rather uncomfortable to think that she may very well have read that momentary pain and self-pity, too.

She returns with water and refuses to relinquish the glass to him when he reaches out with his unharmed arm. Instead, she brings it to his lips, urging with her eyes to take a sip.

Truly, he shouldn't have looked into those eyes. Now that he had, Veer finds himself bound there, and sipping at her will - at her mercy really - she could have fed him poison, and he'd not have cared.

"Buss," she says after a couple of sips, removing the glass. Just as a Doctor- a familiar old man and his bevvy of nurses enter.

"Ah, Kuwar sahab, you are awake at last!" He makes a rather dramatic gesture of welcome with his arms that makes Veer roll his eyes.

"Choti Rani sahiba, you should have called us!" The man continues with grievances in his tone at having missed the historical moment his patron woke up.