Not yesterday but now

Starlit Shades

The sky outside had fully transformed now, shifting from the warm hues of twilight to the deep indigo of early night. The last remnants of daylight had faded, leaving behind a sky dotted with the first few stars, while a gentle evening breeze stirred through the chamber. 

Karna stirred slightly, his senses pulling him from the depths of sleep as the warmth beside him shifted. The movement was gentle at first, a slight stirring in his arms, but it grew as Draupadi slowly roused from her slumber. 

Her brows knitted faintly, a dazed confusion settling on her delicate features as she blinked away the remnants of sleep. Karna, still half-drowsy himself, found amusement in the way her expression shifted, bewilderment, a flicker of realization, and then an almost childlike perplexity. He knew that look. He had expected it. 

She sat up in a sudden motion, glancing around as if trying to make sense of her surroundings. The dimly lit room, the absence of diyas yet the presence of darkness creeping in, it all seemed to puzzle her. 

Her voice, husky from sleep, carried a softness Karna rarely got to hear. “How long have I been sleeping, Arya?”

Karna propped himself up lazily, shifting his weight as he ran a hand through his hair, a lazy smirk curving his lips. “Not long enough to miss dinner. Just after sunset.”

Draupadi’s eyes widened slightly as she turned to him. “Just after sunset?” she repeated, as if confirming she had heard him right. 

Karna exhaled, straightening his posture slightly as he sat up properly. He rested his elbow on his thigh, his palm supporting his face in a casual manner. His dark eyes held a glint of amusement as he took in her disheveled state, her sleep-heavy lids, her slightly parted lips, and most amusing of all, the way her odhni had come undone. 

She was seated on the bed with both her legs tucked to the same side, her posture elegant yet unguarded. The loosened fabric of her attire pooled around her, the pleats of her odhni barely hanging from her shoulder, the pin that had once held it in place having come undone. The soft folds of her blouse clung to her curves, accentuating the graceful arch of her back, the delicate slope of her shoulders. And her hair, long, silken waves spilling down her back and over her lap was even more untamed now, freed completely from its earlier braid. 

She looked ethereal, a vision that made Karna want to forget the world beyond this chamber. 

Draupadi, oblivious at first, was too busy adjusting to the moment. The cool air brushed against her skin, sending a faint shiver down her spine, and then, finally realization struck. 

Her hands flew to her chest instinctively, gathering the fabric of her odhni as a deep warmth spread across her cheeks. “Arya” she started, her voice flustered. 

Karna, who had been watching the entire exchange with a suppressed chuckle, finally let out a deep, rumbling laugh. “You are only now realizing it, Priye?”

She shot him a glare, but the pink dusting her cheeks betrayed any attempt at feigned annoyance. 

“You could have told me sooner!” she huffed, hurriedly adjusting the pleats. 

Karna merely shrugged, leaning back on his hands. “I was enjoying the sight too much.” 

She gasped at his boldness, her brows furrowing as she threw him an exasperated look. But Karna only grinned, completely unbothered by her reaction. He, too, was dressed simply, wearing only his dhoti, his broad chest exposed to the gentle evening breeze. The golden hue of his skin seemed even warmer in the dim light, and the ease with which he carried himself only added to Draupadi’s frustration.