RISHTAA: An Arranged Love (IPKKND AU) **ON HIATUS**

Chapter 11: Khushi

"This house is so big ..."

Khushi scampered along a corridor, her footsteps echoing in its empty silence.

She was lost.

Not lost! I just need to find Jiji and Anjali-ji, she reassured herself.

She'd returned to the terrace to find it empty, and had rushed down the spiralled staircase in an effort to catch them. But now, ten minutes later, she was no closer to finding her way in this maze of a house. Khushi bit her nails as she hurried, sometimes walking backwards, sometimes running, always hoping for a clue.

Or a sign board.

A door on her left clicked open, and a figure stepped into her path before she could properly register it. They collided.

"What the--!"

"Mmpfh!"

Her nose stung from the impact. But then heat uncoiled within her, turning her insides into molten lava, as she realised what had happened. Arnav-ji's hand seared through her blouse and sari where he gripped her shoulder. His chest rose and fell sharply against her palm, in tandem with her own erratic inhalations. She was aware of him as she'd never been of anyone else, all six feet of him somehow robbing her of breath. 

Her hand left the soft fabric of his suit. His fingers trailed over her arm as he released her. Khushi drew a shaky breath, inhaling the sandalwood-cedar scent of him as she stepped away, and yelped at the sharp tug on her ear. Her earring - that pesky jhumka from Sarojini Markets that always caught on her clothes - had caught on his suit. Her hand shook as she wedged it into the too-small space between them, trying to free herself, but her fingers didn't want to obey. His breath tickled her forehead. Arnav-ji shifted with her, trying to give her space, and the butterflies in her tummy reacted to the slightest movement of his body against hers. 

"One minute," his voice rumbled against her ear, "I'll get it."

He lifted her hand away before replacing it with his own. His fingers were warm where they brushed against her cheek and ear, and Khushi closed her eyes as he threaded the earring off. Free, she looked up at him. They stood so close that she could see the caramel flecks in his eyes. He had a small scar underneath one eyebrow. 

Khushi stepped back hastily as he untangled the earring and offered it to her. His eyes didn't leave her as she pushed it into place, mentally scolding its boldness in having caught on his suit.

"Are you okay?" Arnav-ji broke their silence.

His concern was so unexpected that Khushi could only nod in response, wondering where the cold and aloof man of earlier had gone.

"Are you lost?" he asked, "Dinner is usually served in the dining room."

"Th-that's where I'm going."

He pointed in the direction she'd come from, "That way."

Oh.

"I was taking a short-cut," she blurted.

The absurd claim hung between them, awkward and unwanted, as he frowned at her. He tilted his head, studying her as if she were a particularly vexing puzzle. Khushi stared back with all the defiance she could muster, trying to ignore the way her pulse reacted to his scrutiny. He pressed his lips together – stop staring at them, besharam! – and he strode away without a word. After a moment of hesitation, Khushi followed him across two corridors and down some stairs. They arrived in the sitting area she'd left her family in. The conversation stalled.

"Khushi ..." Babu-ji frowned as he looked between them.

"She got lost," Arnav-ji spoke over the beginnings of Khushi's explanation.