▪︎No matter how good the hero is, he is still a villain in someone's story▪︎
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A story of anti-heroes. Two people with a strong dislike for the world learn to thrive together in an arranged marriage.
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A brother with a s...
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I sit on the edge of the bed when the door opens and my husband walks in. He looks surprised to find me awake but then he smoothes his expression out. "You're up already? It's not morning yet." Yes, I know that you piece of shit. But when you wake up sweaty from a nightmare of some scary dude stalking you and your husband gone, it's not really easy to go back to sleep. I don't say any of that though.
"Where were you?" He frowns before tilting his head to the side and smirking like an evil gremlin. "Just out."
"Do I look like an idiot to you? I need an answer. A clear answer. Where were you?" His smile widens. What a psychopath.
"Just hanging out with one of my side chicks."
"Right. And your side chick is blonde, and 6 feet tall with blue eyes and let's not forget your side chick is also your brother." His smile dims slightly. "If you knew where I was why were you questioning me like a jealous wife?"
Jealous wife my foot. I won't get jealous, I would simply make the people that buzz around him like flies disappear and live my life peacefully. Nobody would even find their fucking bodies.
I stand up and walk up to him. "I saw you two get out of the car and he was hurt. Did you do something to him Vivaan?" His glare seethed through my very being. I mean it was a valid question, he hates him too much.
"I have better things to do in life than hurt him Veera. I may find him annoying but I am not as horrible as you make me out to be."
"I am sorry. I didn't mean to offend you, I was just worried about him-" a hand wraps around my throat, cutting my speech in between. He leans in closer, eyes blazing in fury, hot enough to burn me. "He'll live. But if you mention him to me one more time, you are going to regret it."
He is so hot. I need to see a psychiatrist.
He lets go of me and watches me with his predatory gaze, roaming it over my body as if I am a sculpture and he is the biggest devotee of art. "Stop staring like that, it's creepy." He looks at me unamused and I turn away from him to go shower. Might as well get started with the day.
I strip off my clothes and turn the shower on. The hot water spray soothe my skin and very definitely my aching muscles. Writing music is a hell of a task, especially when you need to find inspiration. Because my life fucking lacks it. Boring as hell. All I do is sit in my room, strum my guitar, hoping to be able to be productive enough. It's shit.
The knock on the door pulls me out of my self loathing. "What?!"
"Can I come in?"
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
"Veera? Did you hear?"
Ofcourse I did. And that is why I froze faster than water in Antarctica. He wants to come in? "I am taking a shower."
