Khushi admires the vibrant, delicate roses for a few long moments, unaware of the faint smile adorning her lips. The inviting aroma of the Chinese noodles and stir fried vegetables begs to be devoured but she effortlessly refrains, deciding to only eat with him present.
Minutes go by. Arnav ji should be arriving soon, she thinks, the hospital is not much far from Shantivan.
A soft knock on the door. Her beaming, smiling lips open to form a greeting when suddenly her features still at the sight before her, the smile vanishing.
"Khushi ji..."
"Aap?!" (You?!) She manages, straightening on the hospital bed, her nerves painfully alert.
"I was passing by... I thought to come and visit you-"
Just the sound of his voice sends shivers down her spine.
"Why are you here? You-"
"Please Khushi ji, listen to me," Shyam makes his way to the bed, his steps fervent, almost crazed. "When I found out about the accident I got so worried for you. Believe me, Khushi ji, I kept thinking about you and wanted to see if you were alright," He croaked, moving further to sit on the bed when her glare halts him.
"Don't you dare come closer. You should listen to the vile words you are saying right now. And yet you feel not an ounce of shame," Khushi's mouth twists in disgust as she turns away from him.
"You don't understand-"
"Please, leave me alone," The rage inside her quickly ebbs away under the heaviness of distress.
Shyam wipes the beads of sweat from his forehead, his gestures laced with exasperation. With every passing second in his presence Khushi feels the unease pumping through her veins, her skin burning, her head leaden from the doses of medication given to her just a few hours ago. To her relief he walks out of the room soon after, leaving her panting for breath. She can feel her senses start to mute all awareness, her eyelids shutting close on their own accord. The last thing she hears before darkness consumes her mind is the sound of Arnav's voice, faint but rich.
—-
"Khushi? Khushi dear," Mrs. D'Souza lightly shake's her limp shoulders carefully while checking the reading on the monitor as the cuff tightens and loosens around Khushi's arm.
The tightening sensation wakes her slightly, her eyelids opening only to flutter close again, unable to withstand the brightness of white hospital bulbs.
"What does the reading say, nurse?"
"Ninety by fifty, Dr. Patel,"
Khushi's eyelids open once again, but this time she closes them momentarily only to blink. "What... what happened?"
"You fainted, my dear. Your blood pressure is awfully low," Mrs. D'Souza replies sympathetically.
Her hand goes up to her aching head, understanding why everything seems so disorderly in her mind. And then her gaze is pulled to where Dr. Patel stands with a stethoscope around his neck, quietly explaining something she cannot quite hear to the only person who can calm her down at a time like this.
"Arnav ji," She calls out with need, still recovering from the blackout.
"Right here," He immediately makes his way to her side, instinctively taking her hand in his.
"Where were you? I was waiting," A sudden surge of emotions flood within her, the unforgotten memory of facing Shyam alone eliciting irrepressible tears.
"Hey, I'm here now. Please- please don't cry, Khushi," He hushes, his heart constricting when she holds his hand tighter. "Seems like I can never let you out of my sight, huh?" He softly chuckles, trying to lighten the mood.
She gleefully lets a smile out after hours, thinking of how he likes to tease her even in a situation like this.
"Then don't," Khushi simply replies.
Arnav's smile disappears, his brows furrowing with thought. She watches in confusion as he awkwardly lets go of her hand and steps aside as Dr. Patel comes forward.
"You seemed to have fainted due to low blood pressure, Ms. Gupta. It can be a common result of the medications, but can be avoided next time. Remember to always stay hydrated and avoid stressing your mind," He says, placing the stethoscope on his patient's chest, "Breathe for me please,"
After a few breaths in and out, he retracts the device and writes something down on a paper. "Breathing and heart rate seems alright now. Nurse D'Souza will assist you with some physical therapy starting today. With proper rest and some hands free exercises, you'll be good to go home within the next week,"
Khushi relaxes at the thought of finally being able to go home. The sight of her family leaving to go home after visiting hours broke her heart everyday.
Arnav looks at her, his gaze holding something indescribable yet strong. She still doesn't quite understand his mystifying maze of a mind; but she makes a promise to herself to discover the secrets he so solemnly conceals.
"Thank you, Dr. Patel." Arnav nods courteously, to which the doctor smiles kindly before leaving.
"Well, Khushi dear, I'll be back tomorrow morning and we will start your daily routine of physical therapy. You'll be as fit as a fiddle very soon, mark my words!" Mrs. D'Souza exclaims, the wrinkles of her smile lines deepening. Khushi laughs heartily; her calming presence had come as a blessing to her when her family wasn't around. Her caring soul reflected through her words and actions, and she had quickly become a mother figure to Khushi.
As Mrs. D'Souza leaves, silence, albeit a comfortable silence, fills the room.
Moments pass. He stands just a few feet away, his gaze flitting from her face to the ground. She fidgets her thumbs around, unconsciously drawing vague shapes on the blanket that covers her lap.
"The... the noodles must be cold,"
The evident awkwardness in his voice makes her quietly giggle.
"That's okay. Even cold noodles become delicious when there is someone to share them with,"
And then he suddenly smiles that smile, the one that never fails to make her catch her breath.
Arnav sits down and sets the plates, and the two start to eat. The flavors surely had lost their taste by now, bland and cold; but to them, each bite is worth savoring.
"How are you feeling now?" He asked, still worried.
Khushi swallowed a morsel and looked up at him, taking her time to answer. "Grateful,"
The purity of her response struck him. Here is this girl whom, just a few weeks ago, survived a car accident, has just recovered from falling unconscious, is fighting for her health every day with broken bones and yet her spirit remains unbroken. After all she has been through, her response is to be grateful for what she has, not what she lost.
As Arnav ponders upon this realization a revelation as clear as day hits him with its sheer force: I am so in love with her.
"Arnav ji?"
He realizes he had been sitting still for the past few moments. "Hmm?"
"When did you come back? Did you... did you find me like that?"
"Yes, you had fainted by the time I got back. I tried to wake you up but when I couldn't I called Mrs. D'Souza. You scared me Khushi, I thought-"
"What?"
"I thought I lost you. Again,"
She sits there with a sense of newfound warmth that slowly but surely envelops her in a cocoon, her mind reeling from the sincerity of his words. And then it crashes down upon her, an unavoidable weight. If he is opening up to her, shouldn't she? If he is being so truthful and honest, shouldn't she? She wonders whether or not to tell him of the things that scare her, the things that frighten her, make her feel like she is living in a nightmare. She wants to tell him everything, about Shyam, what he did, who he really is. The urge then washes away as her apprehension stops her from saying anything more.
"I- I'm not feeling so well, Arnav ji,"
He nods, understanding her condition. Quickly placing away the food and plates he helps her lay down, adjusting the blanket and her pillow.
The guilt wears her down to her core, but she knows she simply cannot be brave enough to disclose the truth. She finally feels as though she is nesting in a place called home in his heart and she is not ready to face the prospect of it breaking apart.
"It's getting late. Try to sleep, Khushi,"
"Stay,"
Arnav holds her hand as he sits facing her. "I'm right here."
And so she surrenders herself to sleep with her hand intertwined with his and to his voice hushing her just as a lullaby would.
—-
His fist collides with the concrete wall, his lips twisting in frustration. A split second and a maniacal cackle rings out to the dark night, the blood on his knuckles fresh and scarlet.
"I will make you mine, Khushi ji."
—-
A/N: Shyam is a vital character that cannot be forgotten and since this fic is show based, there has to be some sort of outcome to his story. Hope you'll stick around to find out!
Have enjoyed replying to all of your comments! Can't wait to hear what you thought of this one.
– Rain