Hello! To my lovely Wattpad Family.
A small Diwali greeting from me.😘😘❤🎁✨
***********************************************
ROHAN SINGH
KIARA
Beautiful aesthetics by = ShabnaTheStar
*****************************************************
The white jeep sputtered up the large haveli , the shining white paint stained with dark splotches from the mud kicked by the wheels. As the dust settled , he stepped out of the jeep , walking over to the other side to open it for his wife.
Her long hairs were pulled back right above her ears , pinned with black clip with shining silver accents that glinted in sunlight. The clip was just right size for his hand , he recalled , as he felt the urge to reach out and let the strands of her hairs freely fall from their confines.
He had bought it for her while he had taken her for sight seeing in Jaipur. Singh Sir and his overly romantic wife Gitanjali Madam , who Rohan looked upon as a mother , had insisted upon paying for their pyari gudiya to see Jaipur. He had opened his mouth to protest , about her safety concerns , but he was quickly silenced by one glare from Gitanjli Madam.
It wasn't he didn't want to go. It was that he didn't think he could control his own desires anymore if he had forced to spend some time alone with her.
He had known when he had first rescued her that their attraction was potent , feeling the tips of his finger burn when they slightly brushed on her waist as he tackled her to the ground protecting her from the flames of fire.
But he had never expected it to be this strong.
The night of the party , he had walked towards her without consideration of the half finished sentence of Aman. He could not draw his eyes away once they had found her , tracing every single line of her body with burning passion through his eyes. By the time the night was over his hands had skimmed every single curve of her body , and he knew her fingers better than his own.
He had been tipsy , yes , but he still felt himself hardening at the mere thought of her pressed against him that night , curling her body into his and moulding it against himself in all the right places. She had shifted constantly , attempting to find the perfect nook to squeeze herself into. The tips of her finger had played with his senses all night , wrapping themselves around his own again and again.
No other woman held so much power over him as she did , and she wasn't even aware of it. It was one of the reasons he had pushed her away so insistently , accusing her of seducing him. He didn't like loosing control over himself , feeling his inside turn to jelly at the sight of her back when she had refused to show her face to him , carefully sliding against the rough , brick tiles as she shielded her face from his probing eyes.
She was suppose to be loosing control at his gaze. He had seen her eyes fit up and down on his uniform body when he walked in , seen her appreciative gaze when he dressed up for ball. But she remained oblivious to the flames that threatened to engulf them , oblivious to the idea of passion.
Whenever he tried to exert control over her , he found himself on the defensive instead , desperately grasping the last string that he had over the coiled situation. She had seduced him , completely had him running behind her like an attached , young puppy , barking after anyone who even dared to look at his master. And the worst part is that she had done all this without eve trying.
Kiara's innocence and overly trusting nature had him automatically assume the role of her protector. He took the standing in front of her whenever they went somewhere , his long fingers wrapped securely around her wrist shielding her from the lustful glances of some cheap men in the market.
They strolled from the Jaipur streets , with him carefully guarding her and snarling at every man who even turned his body towards her. He had attempted to put his eyes from her face , knowing he would be lost if he had , but he couldn't stop himself from the sight of pure wonderment and joy in her eyes , drinking in every part of the chaotic atmosphere around them.
She had insisted upon stopping at a small , tourist stall , reaching appreciatively towards various trinkets scattered around. He had immediately seen her eyes fall on the black clip , her expressive eyes travelling over every inch of it.
''How much is it?'' The vendor barely looked up from his position in cool shade of comfy stool ,casually sipping on hot , ginger tea as he watched people flock around.
''Ek Hazaar [1000 INR]'' His voice was bored and disinterested ignoring the shocking gasp from Kiara.
''Ek Hazaar? In the gaon next to Rampur , I could get this for pennies! You are ripping off all the people here. Don't you feel ashamed?'' The vendor didn't look up , reaching the packet of crispy Parle-G biscuits sitting by his side and lazily dipping it into tea.
''Madam , if you can get it from your gaon , why don't you buy it from there? Why are you troubling me with your lectures? You village girls-'' She had opened her mouth to protest in soft , gentle way only she could , but before she could say anything Rohan had laced his fingers between hers and dragged her away , yelling at her about how they lost the tour group.
He didn't want her to be privy to the insults he was sure to get thrown at her by the man , calling her naive gaon ki chori [naive village girl] who knew nothing about how real world works.
Later at night , he had slipped out when Gitanjli Madam had whisked her away to dress up , reaching the stall once more. He silently handed over the thousand rupees , ignoring the fact that it was ridiculously overpriced for a good so insignificant. On his way back , he also picked imli [tamarind] as well, knowing it would bring smile on her face and take away the fleeting glimpses of homesickness he had seen in her eyes.
He was treated with the most brilliant smile he had received , gratitude and delight shining in her eyes as she pulled out his presents. She had immediately gone over to the mirror , pulling her still damp hair in neat , tidy hairstyle he was so familiar with.
Just as she was reaching up , he strode up bringing her closer to him , removing her hands from her hairs and ignoring her shocked gasp of protest. He held her firmly in place , reaching for her thick , glossy strands himself and savoring the feel of them threading between his fingers. He deftly pinned them between the clasp of the clip , enjoying the way it stood out between the black waves of her hair.
When he looked up into the mirror , her eyes were trained on him. Her pout fallen open in shock at his gestures. He was standing unreasonably close. His front pressed against her soft backside. Her waist was tantalizingly exposed , the light breeze sweeping in from the window and brushing away the carefully pinned dupatta. He felt the familiar pang of desire swirl once again in his stomach , his gut clenching as he stepped away.
DAMN IT
His eyes had followed the black , shimmering clip all morning , as she slipped from room to room , avoiding his presence. The minute she sensed him , she would quickly made an excuse and run away like her damned butterfly friend. Disappearing even before he could register what was happening.
He had noticed something was wrong as soon as they have arrived in the haveli. Kakisa[wife of father's younger brother] had made her usual acidic remarks , but that was nothing new , and he know Kiara could handle herself against her. It was after Rashi's teasing comments that she had changed , turning a bright red and running from the room the minute she had chance.
'' Kya Kiara kaisa tha thara honeymoon? [How was your honeymoon Kiara?] '' She had turned the beetroot red, her eyes bashfully tilted down.
'' Honeymoon nahi , Jiji Major Sahab had to attend a meeting , it was work related.'' Rashi's eyes has sparkled with mirth , not-so-subtly nudging the younger woman and giggling as she made her next comment.
'' Can I expect a niece or a nephew something soon , or will I be kept waiting?'' Kiara's eyes flown open , drifting over to him for a second. Upon meeting his gaze , she had quickly looked away. Blushing deeply and making an excuse about putting their clothes away.
He had barely seen her since , only catching glimpses of her flying dupatta as she swept from room to room with purposeful movements. He had stepped out for a while to return to the work and take back his badges, feeling immensely satisfied at the familiar click of his gun into the hostler and the sharp , shiny army boots he always wore. His stars were pinned neatly onto his broad shoulder , He smiled into the interrogation room mirror, relishing the feeling of having a piece of his heart back.
He pushed open the door of the haveli , looking for the woman who had done everything for him to get his job back. He had treated her like hell , but she had thrown herself into the fire just so that he could regain his reputation , livelihood and respect back. His guilt weighed him down , and he longed to catch the glimpse of her to put his mind at ease. He was about to take his jacket off and place in on the table when somebody clashed into him from behind.
He felt the hot tea burning him , running down his back as he yelped in surprise. He could feel the stinging burn and reddening of the injury as he whirled around to face the offender.
He looked down into the terrified eyes of his wife. Her entire body was trembling as she held the handle of the tattered cup in her delicate hands , tea splashing all over the floor. He could see the beginnings of a deep cut pierce her fingers as she gripped the handle tightly, closing her eyes and stepping back slowly, moving away from him.
He reached out and pulled her roughly towards him, his fingers tightening around her slender wrist and pulling the sharp, jagged piece out of her hands. She looked away, her face turned away from him as she squirmed in his grasp.
"Stop moving, Kiara!" His voice was thick and gritty as he attempted to assess the damage to her skin, firmly twisting her hand towards him. He heard her swallow and looked up to see giant, clear tears filling her eyes, spilling over and running down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't be angry. I didn't mean to, I swear. I know you hate it when your clothes get wet. I'm so sorry. I'm sor-" He cut her off, reaching into his pocket for his handkerchief and wrapping it around the wound.
"Dard ho raha hai?[Is it paining?] " She shook her head uncertainly, licking her lips nervously as she continued to shift uncomfortably.
"Jhoot mat bolna Kiara." [Don't lie Kiara]
"H-haan [yes]." She stammered, her gaze landing everywhere but him. He nodded tightly as he continued to dress the wound, telling her in no uncertain terms that she was to see him later for antiseptic.
She ran the minute he let her go, turning into a blur as she sprinted away from him. As he watched her go, he was left in the doorway, pondering her strange behavior.
They were by no means a normal couple, but he had accepted her as a part of his life after all she had done for him. They had grown closer in Jaipur, sleeping next to each other on the bed. She would allow him to indulge his protective instincts, cowering close to him without him even warning her. Their hands would brush against the cups of their morning tea, and a comfortable silence often surrounded them instead of the usual tension.
But upon their return to the haveli, she had clammed up, running away from him. She wasn't the exuberant titli [butterfly] he had come to know, but a timid, scared child instead.
He thought over her actions in the last five minutes as he pulled off his shirt, glancing back in the mirror at his bare, toned back. The large splotch of his burn stood out against his bronzed skin, turning a sensitive red as it neared the center. As he observed the burn, he realized what was bothering her.
She was afraid.
She was scared that he would revert to the man he had been before Jaipur, the unforgiving beast that had made it his mission to torture her, to allow her to burn in his flames.
But her actions in front of the social worker had forced him to reevaluate his perspective on her, to soften his stance towards her. He couldn't continue accusing her of deeds he knew she hadn't done. He had lost all incentive to hate her, with not even one, flimsy reason left behind. She had beaten all of it, forced him to understand the misunderstandings that seemed to loom like a wall over them. He had no real reason to subject her to his anger anymore. And the thought unsettled him.
She had too much control over him, she was too stubborn. He couldn't fight her the way he normally fought. She left him no option but to give in, simply by disproving everything he held against her.
They had left for Jaipur immediately after, not giving the carefully placed truce to settle in.
She had assumed it was a facade put on for his boss and loving wife, one that would fall away upon their arrival at home.
He cursed profusely underneath his breath, realizing he would have to fix the situation. He had realized in Jaipur that fighting his growing emotions would only drive him to hurt her, bringing those dreaded tears back into her eyes. And the sight of those, hurt him more than they hurt her.
He remembered her drunken confession that she did not like him brushing her off, that she wanted him to take her because he wanted to, not because he was on some odd protective mission.
And at some level, he knew he wanted her with him too. He didn't fully understand why she had such a profound effect on him, or why he wanted her to be in his sight at all times. He didn't understand why the tightening of his gut was accompanied by pleasant, fluttering feelings, or why he felt the need to shield her from everything bad in the world, even if he turned around and inflicted it on her himself.
It was better coming from him than it would be coming from a stranger, someone who would not hesitate before plunging a dagger into her tender skin, he justified to himself. He didn't understand why panic would arise when he couldn't see her, safe and sound as she fluttered about the haveli, her anklets tinkling charmingly as she bounced around.
But he did understand that he would not be able to sleep if she wasn't in his arms, her floral scent enveloping him with his arm dead under her weight. He knew that he needed to protect her, to make sure she was happy. He understood that she meant something to him, even if he didn't know exactly what that was.
And that gave him back some of the control he so desperately desired, put the strings back in his own, deft fingers and gave him a sense of comfort.
She walked in later than usual that night, her steps measured as she walked towards the mat kept behind their cupboard. He sat on the bed, observing her as she reached for it, grabbing a pillow along with it.
The mat rustled as she unrolled it onto the floor, straightening out at the foot of the bed. She placed a blanket meticulously at one end of the mat, fluffing up her pillow and placing it on the opposing side.
She was about to collapse down onto the mat in exhaustion, fully ready to succumb to the fatigue plaguing her body, when she heard his soft voice behind her.
"Kiara, you won't sleep on the bed?" She looked determinedly ahead, steeling her traitorous heart.
"Woh, aap- I'll sleep here." She saw his head bob thoughtfully, his fingers playing with the edge of the soft blanket on his bed.
"And if the mice come back tonight?"
"I'll... I'll tell them to leave." She was firm in her statement, and she could hear him trying to restrain his laughter as he looked at her, amusement tinging the husky notes of his voice. She strained to hear his quiet chuckles, enjoying the sound as it filled her ears.
She expected his next statement to be laced with the cutting sarcasm she was so familiar with, expecting him to comment on her close relationship with the mice she both feared and protected.
"Come to our bed, Kiara." She whipped around at the soft, almost pleading tone in his voice, her confused hazel gaze meeting his own molten one. They sat there for a moment, staring steadily into each other's eyes, desperately attempting to pull out the hidden, weighted meanings behind their words.
His eyes beckoned her, requesting her with unprecedented gentleness to join him in their bed. She swallowed, looking away for a brief moment.
Then, she walked over, leaving the carefully placed pillow and mat lying abandoned on the floor.
She slipped into his arms, underneath the warm cover of the worn blanket. She nestled herself into him, curving her body to fit his and adjusting it to find just the right place.
Just as her eyes were about to fall shut, she reached over and dragged his arm underneath her head, lacing her fingers between his own. She could feel his small smile on her back. She tightened her grip, and pulled him closer still.
The last thing she remembered before she allowed her eyes to droop was a barely there, fleeting kiss on the lobe of her ear.
THE END
______________________________________________
So a backstory is that Rohan went on a mission and there he saw some people are in need s he helped them nut later on he was in a situation that he had to marry a girl from their village as a gift that he helped them. Rohan refused but the village men forced him to marry Kiara and then he started hating her, yes he found her attractive but he always remember the way her village men treated him. After that her family excepted Kiara with no grudges except some oblivious people like Kakisa. He use to get angry on her at every single mistake. Then due to some misunderstanding highers of the army put Rohan in custody but Kiara was determined and did her best and helped him to take his rank and respect back. He always had something for her which he couldn't pinpoint but he always cared for her no matter what he always took care of her needs and never forced himself on her or manhandled her. This was the quality that made Kiara fell for him.
*******************************************
How was the oneshot?
A very very Happy Diwali to all✨❤
May goddess Laxmi bring a lot of happiness , love and prosperity to you and your family💖