Love Across Time

Forty Nine

-𝓐 𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓸𝓯 𝓒𝓻𝓲𝓶𝓼𝓸𝓷-

Arjun leaned closer, his eyes locking with hers, the air thick with anticipation. The world seemed to hold its breath, cocooning them in a private moment. His voice, a velvet whisper, brushed against her skin. "Perhaps you," he murmured, and Aanya's heart somersaulted. It was as if the universe had paused, allowing only their souls to dance.

Before Aanya could decipher the emotions swirling within her, Arjun took a deliberate step back, leaving her bereft. But she couldn't let him slip away so easily. "Rukiye," she implored, her voice trembling. She moved to stand in front of him.

"What does that mean?" Aanya's eyes bore into his.

Arjun feigned innocence, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "What?" he replied, drawing her closer.

"Jo apne abhi bola," Aanya pointed, her fingers trembling.

He closed the gap, their breaths mingling. "Kya bola maine?" Arjun's voice held a promise, and Aanya's pulse quickened.

Her retreat was instinctive, yet her body betrayed her. His proximity ignited a fire within her, a longing she couldn't deny. Aanya's gaze flickered to his lips, and she fought the urge to taste them. But when his fingers cupped her cheeks, tracing their delicate contours, she surrendered. Her lips parted, and she drowned in the intensity of his gaze.

The world blurred as Arjun's touch seared her skin. And then, unexpectedly chaos erupted, a symphony of porcelain crashing against the floor. Aanya's hand collided with a plate, sending its contents airborne. Powdered color swirled around them, a vibrant storm of red, like the very essence of love set free.

Aanya's eyes widened in shock, her breath caught in her throat. She was a canvas of crimson, and so was he. The mehendi on her palms had smeared, mirroring the chaos of their collision. Arjun's face bore the same crimson imprint, a testament to their shared moment of recklessness.

His voice, a whisper, brushed against her senses. "Aap ne toh mujhe bhi apne saath rang dia," he murmured, his eyes holding galaxies of unspoken promises.

"Woh... main nahi, pata nahi, ye yaha kaise," she babbled, her mind a whirlwind of sensations. Her fingers trembled as she reached to wipe away the red from his cheek, but in her haste, she smeared her own mehendi further.

"Oh... no," she lamented, staring at her stained hand. The delicate lines that had been etched with care were now a beautiful mess, much like her heart.

Arjun chuckled, his laughter a melody that resonated within her. "Such a good day to wear white clothes, Aanya."

"Shut up," she retorted, glancing at her lehenga. The pristine fabric now bore the mark of their collision, a testament to fate's mischievous hand. "Aapki wajah se dekhiye kya hua," she muttered, flustered.

"Meri wajah se?" Arjun tilted his head, his eyes dancing with mirth. "Nahi, aapke bhoot ki wajah se," Aanya huffed, her cheeks flushed.

"Nahi, aap ki wajah se hua hai," Arjun insisted, shaking his head. His fingers traced the curve of her jaw, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

"Hawww, ab ye meri galti hai," Aanya protested. "Ek toh meri mehendi..." Her voice trailed off as Arjun's finger gently dusted away the contents from her cheeks. His touch was both tender and possessive, as if he wanted to imprint himself upon her soul.

He leaned in, his lips a breath away. His gaze moved over her face, mapping every freckle, every hidden desire. "I can do it on my own," she whispered, her heart pounding in rhythm with the universe.