[ abandoned since 2020 ]
What happens when electrifying chemistry isn't actually coincidental?
Meet Parth Samthaan and Niti Taylor, two 'professional' co-actors who have a story behind them. On screen, they are Manik and Nandini but what happens be...
So I've been writing this all day, I have an exam tomorrow and I'm dead but anything for PaNi because Parth and Niti have made my day today too, yet again! Voters and commenters, Krishi loves you! :3
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Niti
An hour before the party, I headed to his villa, which was printed on the invite. It was a lavish piece of land that they'd acquired. I paid the cab driver and sent a message to Chandni, who was already inside handling the food. She sneaked to open the door for me herself, sniggering at the sight of a beautiful me.
"Go to the first room to the left. Guest room hai. Wahan chip jaana." I nodded, lifting the long lehenga and pacing as quickly and softly as I could. I closed the door as soon as I entered and hid myself behind the wardrobes. I heard a door unlock. I stuck myself to the wall. That was when I realized that room was probably not the guest room! I peeked to see a few frames arranged on the wall, with his pictures in them. Shit! Parth's room? I shouldn't have blindly trusted Chandni!
Someone stood in front of the mirror, rubbing their hair dry with a towel. In an attempt to hide myself, my bracelet hit onto the sides of the wardrobe startling him.
"Kaun hai?" My heartbeats were racing to infinite times per minute. I heard footsteps. I hid my face in my hands, uselessly as I felt the mild scent of him around me.
I looked up, and the first thing I saw was his wet lips, after-effects of stepping right out of the shower. I really wanted to taste them. "Exquisite." They moved beautifully as he spelled the word and the towel from his hands fell.
My fingers trembled while my hands settled to my sides, to do nothing. I couldn't do anything. I felt like jelly. I was suddenly very self-conscious but my eyes were betraying me, by staring at him. That piece of perfection.
I scanned him from head to toe: his hair was stringy but still wet, water-droplets were trailing along the sides of his face and neck, his kurta fit over his broad chest very comfortably and was folded at his elbows. The kada he wore and the few bracelets added to his charm. He smelled like heaven on Earth.
Watching me check him out, he smirked, wrapping his long talented fingers around my elbow and forcing me to bump into him very gently. His rough, jagged breaths hit my forehead, making me feel things I'd never felt before. His eyes lowered to look at my palpitating lips, that eagerly urged to feel his. These feelings are new.
"This is the closest I could get, to black." He spoke in a whisper. I shifted my field of vision to his chest. His kurta was a dark shade of purple, with a shimmery finish, that differentiated it from black when light fell on it. "Suits me?" Why did he have to say the right things all the time? His smirk made me weak at my knees.
