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Third Person's POV
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Parth found himself captivated by Sharvi's presence, his gaze fixed on her, lost in a momentary reverie. Suddenly, Arjun approached from behind, enveloping Parth in a friendly embrace, and greeted him with a casual yet warm, "Hi, bro!"
As Parth turned around, he discovered his groom-to-be friend adorned in a pristine white kurta, his face aglow with an unmatchable radiance of excitement and happiness.
"Hi!", Parth greeted warmly as he put his arms around Arjun, "Kyaa baat hai! Bahut chamakh rahe hain hamare dulhe miyan!"
("What's going on! Our groom is shining very brightly!")
Arjun chuckled and theatrically bowed, declaring, "It's the glow of love." Nonchalantly shrugging, he added, "You won't understand!"
In response, Parth playfully punched him and retorted, "I won't understand."
Arjun reiterated with a teasing grin, firing back, "Of course. Tujhe kya maloom pyaar ke baare mein? Kabhi pyaar hua hai tujhe?"
("Do you even know anything about love? Tell me, have you ever experienced love?")
Accepting Parth's silence, Arjun persisted, "Nahi. Then, how will you understand?"
"Arjun, stop teasing our Mr. CEO. Ab se pehle pyaar hua nahi to kya hua, ab ho jaayega," Keerti interjected, appearing from somewhere, her eyes filled with a teasing smile.
("Arjun, stop teasing our Mr. CEO. If love hasn't happened before, so what? It will happen now.")
Parth exchanged glances with Keerti, sensing a mischievous undertone in her smile. Since their engagement, he couldn't shake the feeling that she knew a significant secret about him.
"Ho jaayega matlab?", Arjun inquired, seeking clarification from his fiancée.
("What does 'it will happen now' mean?")
"Nothing. You won't understand," Keerti replied mysteriously.
Arjun swiftly changed the topic, remarking, "Whatever! By the way, I hope you are comfortable here, bhai. We are so busy that we are not getting enough time to look after anyone."
Parth was about to respond when Keerti interrupted again, smirking, "Don't worry, Arjun. Parth is having a nice time here. Isn't it, Parth?"
Parth gazed at Keerti, attempting to decipher any hidden meaning in her words, and she responded with a cheeky smile.
Turning to Arjun, he assured, "Yeah, bro. Why are you being so formal? I am having a nice time here. You, don't worry!"
Just then, Keerti raised an eyebrow and quipped, "Anyways, what are these clothes, Parth? Like, seriously?"
Arjun, adding his playful commentary, chimed in, "Baat to sahi hai, ye office wale kapde kyun pehan liye hai tu ne. Lag raha hai abhi koi meeting karega."
("She's right. Why are you wearing office clothes? You look like you're about to attend a meeting.")
Parth, with a bemused expression, defended his choice, "What is wrong with my clothes?"
Keerti commented, "They are so formal. You are here for a wedding."
Parth, with a casual demeanor, asked, "What should I wear then?"
She suggested, "You can wear kurtas."
Parth, maintaining his stance, replied, "No, I am wearing these only."
Keerti, then thought of something and inquired, "What have you brought to wear for other functions?"
Parth replied nonchalantly, "This only."
However, Keerti wasn't having it. She objected firmly, "No way! You can't wear these to my mehendi and haldi. You will destroy my photos and also the aesthetics of my wedding, by being the odd one out of everyone."
Arjun supported her with a nod.
Keerti continued, "Parth, we wear vibrant colors and traditional outfits for these ceremonies. It's a wedding, after all!"
She then stubbornly declared, "Parth, you can't wear your formal Mr. CEO clothes for my wedding, please."
Parth chuckled and said, "What can I do now? I have only bought these."
Arjun sympathetically agreed, "Yeah, that's a problem."
Parth conceded with a shrug, "Of course! There is nothing I can do. You can't expect me to go shop here."
Keerti, as if having a Eureka moment, excitedly suggested, "Correct! You can go shop here."
"No, no, no," Parth denied.
Keerti persisted, "Of course, you can. Please, Parth. It's my wedding. Can't you just buy two three clothes? Do it, at least, for my sake."
Just then, Sharvi came there, and Keerti exclaimed, "Sharvi will help you."
Sharvi, wondering what her dear friend was putting her into, this time, immediately asked, "What am I going to help with now?"
Keerti enthusiastically replied, "Go shopping with Parth."
"Shopping, why?" Sharvi hesitatingly inquired.
Keerti explained, "Just look at his clothes. Do they look like he has come for a wedding?"
Sharvi glanced at Parth, and Keerti continued, "He is just useless. He has brought his same formal clothes for all the wedding functions. Sharvi, you go and get him some wedding-suitable clothes, na."
Sharvi hesitated, struggling to find the right words as a tumult of conflicting emotions stirred within her. While she had no qualms about going, accompanying Parth posed a precarious risk for her heart. In his presence, she felt an unmistakable surge of emotions—flustered, nervous, with her heart pounding loudly. Familiar sensations from the past, yet the present demanded a different stance.
"I... I..." she began, trying to articulate her internal dilemma.
Parth, oblivious to the emotional turmoil, interrupted, "Accompany me, Sharvi, otherwise this idiot will eat my head," his eyes fixed on her.
Sharvi, torn between unspoken desires and the reality she needed to face, couldn't bring herself to voice the words, "I don't want to go with you", echoing in her mind.
She just nodded.
Keerti exclaimed, "Great! You guys can go after the pooja. I know a shop here, that has a nice collection and is quite good. I will share the location with you, Parth."
With that, all of them dispersed, responding to the call from Keerti's parents as the pooja commenced.
Parth and Sharvi found their seats, blending in with the gathering of men and women respectively.
Unable to resist, Parth's gaze naturally gravitated towards the ladies' section on his right. There, amidst the array of vibrant colors, someone adorned in an orange saree captivated him, stirring a flutter of butterflies in his stomach.
The graceful curvature of her neck, elegantly inclined to catch a glimpse of the ceremony, invited admiration. A playful dance of stray strands escaped from her meticulously styled bun, caressed by the winds, gently framing her face. In a moment of irritation, she elegantly pushed them away, revealing a captivating allure.
His attention, however, was captured by a subtle yet bewitching detail - her different expressions - the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, the soft and tender expression when she affectionately talked to a kid sitting near her, the gleam in her eyes when talking to one of Keerti's cousins, or the serene and content expression looking at the pooja ahead.
Parth, entranced, couldn't help but steal fleeting glances, the magnetic pull of her changing expressions momentarily transcending the sanctity of the pooja. The sacred surroundings seemed to fade as he found himself immersed in the poetic nuances of her captivating demeanor.
As the pooja concluded, Parth approached Sharvi, who was engrossed in conversation with a few ladies. He leaned in and whispered, "Shall we?" Sharvi nodded as she moved away from the crowd.
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Parth's POV
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As we left the hall where the pooja was conducted, she exclaimed, "Give me five minutes. I'll change and come. You can wait for me near the gate."
Change? Why does she want to change? She looks okay like this.
No, actually, it's good she is changing.
In the saree, she looked incredibly beautiful. I couldn't help but feel a touch of possessiveness creeping inside me. The thought of a hundred eyes feasting upon her in the market stirred a hint of irritation within me. I didn't want the world to gaze at her, when she looked this beautiful.
I immediately responded, "Yes, yes, go change and come."
As five minutes slipped away, I moved towards the gates, patiently anticipating her arrival. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen, yet there was no sign of her.
Finally, after twenty minutes, she casually strolled in, dressed in a shirt and jeans.
"You're fifteen minutes late," I remarked with seriousness.
She looked at me in disbelief and retorted, "Seriously?"
"Yes, you were fifteen minutes late. You said you'd be there in five mins at 11, that means at 11:05, but you came at 11:20," I said.
She looked at me, horrified, and exclaimed, "Parth, when did you start counting minutes?"
"It has become a habit," Parth confessed.
Sharvi retorted, "Fine, then let me break your habit. It will help you in the future. When a person, especially a woman, says she will be ready in five minutes, that means she needs at least thirty minutes. Understand?" She playfully explained, "Also, going by that logic, I am ten minutes early."
"You guys...", I started, but she interrupted, "Stop and let's go. Now, aren't your minutes passing?"
With that, she walked ahead, and I followed.
As we leisurely walked through the charming streets of Shimla, a gentle breeze whispered around us, creating a tranquil atmosphere heightened by the hushed tones of our surroundings. The location Keerti had suggested beckoned, and we seamlessly moved forward, with me relying on the trusty guidance of Google Maps on my phone.
Arriving at our destination, we found ourselves on one side of a bustling road, our intended store, across the lively street. Glancing at Sharvi beside me, I recognized the expression that graced her features—a hint of apprehension.
Turning towards her, I extended my hand, and whispered, "Sharvi, let's go,"
She held my hands lightly, our fingers merely touching, and we navigated the lively road together.
As soon as we reached the other side of the road, she let go of my hand, a small smile gracing her face, and whispered, "Thank you."
I didn't say anything, just smiled.
Ever since I've known this girl, crossing roads had been a fear for her. Initially, she would outrightly ask for my hand, and gradually, I found myself instinctively reaching for hers whenever we approached a road to cross. However, this time, I hesitated, realizing how the passage of years had subtly transformed the equation between us.
We entered the store, and made our way to the men's section on the first floor, and then continued towards the ethnic collection.
"They really have a nice collection," I heard her remark.
She went around, looking at the clothes hung, while I, leaning against a counter, observed her from behind.
"Why aren't you choosing something?" she suddenly asked.
I shrugged and replied, "I think you were doing the needful."
"No, I was just casually looking around," she immediately explained.
I suggested, "Since you have looked around, then choose some for me."
"Me?" she questioned.
I nodded.
"How can I?" She hesitated.
"Why can't you?" I went near her and said, "You have such a nice choice, plus it's the most important reason for which I asked you to tag along."
I then encouraged, "Come on, Sharvi. Help me choose."
She sighed and proceeded to roam around, meticulously examining the clothes, observing their details, and delicately touching the fabrics.
Finally, ten minutes later, she pointed at three of them. "Try them," she suggested.
"Why do I need to try them?" I said, clearly offended by the idea.
She irritatedly muttered, "How will you know whether you like them or not, or they fit you or not, if you don't try them?"
"But.." I was immediately interrupted, "Parth, just go," she handed me the first piece, and pushed me into the trial room.
She whispered from the other side of the door, "You don't need to come out, wearing it. Just wear it and look for yourself."
I reluctantly put on the first piece.
To my surprise, the outfit felt nice and comfortable, boasting a soothing light shade that added to its appeal.
Examining myself in the mirror, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the clothes suited me exceptionally well. I looked good.
Excitement bubbling within me, I eagerly swung open the door, exclaiming, "Sharvi!"
To my surprise, instead of Sharvi, there were two young girls who immediately turned to look at me upon hearing my voice.
They stared at me, and I overheard one of them mutter to the other, "How handsome!" The other one agreed, "Really."
Awkwardness took over me until Sharvi arrived from the other side. She came near me and said, "Hearing the appreciation, it must be clear that it suits you well. So, go and try the next."
She normally stated the statements, but why did I feel a hidden undertone of anger present in them?
I donned the next piece, and while it was nice, the color didn't quite align with my preferences. Nonetheless, I decided to give it a try, gearing up to open the door. However, this time, I opted for a cautious approach. Before fully revealing myself, I chose to open the door slightly and peep through the crack.
I found Sharvi standing just outside with her arms crossed. As I opened the door, she remarked, "Hmm, it's nice." Curious, I asked, "Really?" She nodded in approval, followed by a directive, "Try the last one, and we can go."
I selected the last piece; it felt delightful to the touch, and the fabric seemed of high quality. Moreover, its perfect black color instantly appealed to me. Honestly, this one stood out as my favorite. Eagerly, I put it on, only to realize to my dismay that it was a bit loose, around the neck.
When I came out to show it to her, she exclaimed, "Oh no! It's loose. I liked this one the most!"
I liked this one the most too... our choices match! Well, anyways, it's not a new revelation.
She then approached me, closer than I could fathom, stood on her tiptoes, and inspected the cloth near the shoulders. In a hushed tone, she whispered to herself, "If this could be stitched..."
My senses collapsed, and I stood there like a statue, my limbs losing their ability to move.
As she neared me, her presence brought a natural scent, just like yesterday—an evocative fragrance, a unique signature that unfolded like an enchanting melody with each step she took. The scent seemed to emanate from the very core of her being, a delicate fusion of notes that wove a captivating tapestry in the air.
It was as if she brought a piece of nature's own garden with her, a scent that bespoke freshness and vitality. The fragrance, distinctly hers, floated gently, creating an ethereal aura that intertwined seamlessly with the surroundings.
Observing her biting her lips and then delicately licking her upper lip, my attention fixated on her lips. They were plush and inviting, possessing a subtle natural hue that beckoned exploration. A faint, alluring mole adorned the canvas near her lower lip, adding an understated yet captivating detail.
As my eyes lingered on her lips, a torrent of unholy thoughts traversed my mind. An unexpected surge of sinful desires compelled me to contemplate actions beyond the ordinary—a magnetic pull toward the forbidden, stirring a concoction of passion and restraint that lingered in the charged air between us.
"What are you thinking?" she asked, abruptly breaking my trance.
Shit, Parth.
Have you lost your senses? How could you think of something like that, especially about her?
Just then, a shop attendant appeared, and she inquired about the possibility of altering the garment. He responded affirmatively, and the two of them engaged in a discussion about the specific requirements.
I paid the bill, and we headed out. The two girls from earlier approached me, recognizing me as they initiated a conversation.
I observed Sharvi standing at a stall near the store, captivated by something that resembled a bracelet. Her focused attention and the subtle curiosity on her face added a touch of intrigue to the scene, prompting me to join her. I ended the conversation, but she had moved away from the stall.
There was something different about her today, as if she was creating a distance between us. She was silent throughout, as if talking to me was dangerous for her heart. Was she regretting opening up to me yesterday? Whatever it was, I hated the noticeable gap she was creating between us.
"Let's head back," she suggested.
Head back? It was too soon, and I wasn't ready to return yet.
Suggesting an alternative, I said, "Let's have something to eat. I'm feeling hungry. Didn't you want to try something local?"
She chuckled and exclaimed, "For all the hundred times we've come out together, I guess this is the first when you're hungry and not me."
I smiled, reminiscing about all the times we had ventured out. There hadn't been a single instance when she didn't declare her hunger.
Just then, her phone buzzed.
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"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞."
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Hey everyone! The long-awaited update is finally here. Apologies for all the delay.
I've had the impression that perhaps the story hasn't resonated as strongly with you all, and that led me to take a short break.
There is so much more in this story that I want to share with you guys. So, when I saw comments asking for the next update, it really motivated me to write the next one.
I'm eager for your continued support, so if you enjoy it, please don't forget to vote and drop a comment. Also, don't forget to hit the follow button.
You can also catch up with me on Instagram. My ID is shewhowriteslove.
To make it up to you for the delays, I'll be posting the next chapter sooner, likely tomorrow or the day after.
Thanks for your patience!
See you in the next chapter<3