INARA

73. The Other Side Of His

The draft I believe that I missed to publish.
Sorry for that!

♡

THE OTHER SIDE OF HIS

The day began with a surreal sight to the elder brother's eyes. Waking up with his beautiful wife in his arms and witnessing all his siblings curled up together, scattered over here and there under the gazebo roof, realising they had all spent the night together after the football game, Arjun couldn't help but relish the memory that he woke up to a few hours ago again and again over the thousandth time.

His eyes wandered off to the window sill table with lots of photo frames on top of it. Each one, that of his parents, grandparents, his beautiful mothers, his siblings, his wife, his friends and all. His eyes, which had always held a stoic expression giving away a poker face, glazed suddenly with a tangent of love and peace. 

That window sill had his whole world in small photo frames for whom he would race hell, fight demons and change destiny.

Soon after they woke up he had reached his room with his wife, leaving her free to change and get ready, as he left for another room to do the same. Sooner, as usual, he was back to his daily routine. Though he skipped going for a jog, he was back to his study to work.

From time to time his mindless thoughts had him wandering off from business files to smiling memories.

With a small smile playing on his lips, Arjun shook his head and threw his pen on the table surrendering to his -not so interested to work- mind. His eyes landed on the only two photo frames on his study table. One was of him and Arnav together, the other was him and Ahaana, the first ever picture that they took together on the day that they first met.

A small surreal satisfying sigh left him. Ahaana looked like a beautiful enchantress in a simple yellow long dress as she stood with her hands locked together and playing with the works on her dress, with a beautiful smile and a shy appearance. Standing beside her was a man with an attitude, hard and cold, who was uninterested in making an effort to look less fearful. 

He remembered the day clearly like it was present. It had been months and now that beautiful lady was his wife. 

My wife,

He thought, he said and he blushed crimson red, uncharacteristically for a man who was too cold to express a warmth-filled expression. 

His rain of thoughts suddenly halted as the door to his office opened slowly with a subtle creek.

His stern angry face took the place of the earlier warm blushing one in response to the act of someone interrupting him in his office. Home or not, when he was busy at work, no one had the right to disturb him.