Swasan – SHE’S NOT FOR ME CHAPTER 16

SWASAN – SHE’S NOT FOR ME
Heyy, It’s Anjali back with the next chapter!!!
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Sanskaar talks to Sahil

CHAPTER 16
The rest of the week passed in a supremely annoying blur of flowers, candy, and one appalling display of poetry, re­cited aloud, Sanskaar recalled with a shudder, on his front steps.
It seemed like the men had gone back to the regency era instead of being smart here in the 21st century. Swara was certainly popular. Sanskaar couldn’t step out of his house without tripping over some love sick fool.
It was enough to make a man want to vomit. Preferably on the lovesick idiot.
Ofcourse Sanskaar had his own admirers, but since they couldn’t constantly meet him at his house because of his office meetings and such, he managed to escape except for few unfortunate circumtances.
He wanted things to go back the way they were. But would it be better than what it was now? He didn’t know.
Furthermore, Swara’s nauseating parade of suitors was made all the more difficult to bear by Sanskaar’s com­plete inability to stop thinking about his recent conversa­tion with her brother.
Marriage to Swara? He had never even let himself think about such a notion.
But now it gripped him with a fervor and intensity that left him reeling.
Marriage to Swara. Good God. Everything about it was wrong.
Except he wanted it so badly.
It was hell watching her, hell speaking to her, hell living in the same house. He’d thought it was difficult before—loving someone who could never be his—but this…
This was a thousand times worse.
Sahil knew.
He had to know. Why would he have suggested it if he didn’t?
Sanskaar had held on to his sanity all these years for one reason and one reason only: No one knew he was in love with Swara.

Except, apparently, he was to be denied even that last shred of dignity.
But now Sahil knew, or at least he damn well sus­pected, and Swara couldn’t quite quash this rising sense of panic within his chest.
Sahil knew, and Sanskaar was going to have to do something about it.
Dear God, what if he told Swara?
That question was foremost in his mind, even now, as he stood slightly off to the side in the hall of the society function he was attending, nearly a week after his momentous meeting with Sahil.
Sujata : She does look very pretty, Doesn’t she?
Sanskaar winced. He had forgotten to pretend that he wasn’t watching Swara. He turned to his mother and gave her a mocking little bow.
Sujata : Tell me. Isn’t she looking very pretty today?
Sanskaar : Ofcourse Mom!
He agreed, quickly enough so she might think he was just being polite.
Sujata : Yellow suits her.
Everything suited Swara, but he wasn’t about to tell his mother that, so he just nodded and made a mur­mur of agreement.
Sujata : Maybe you can dance with her. In fact you should go dance with her.
Sanskaar (carelessly shrugging) : I’ll go.
He wanted to march across the ballroom and forcibly remove her from her annoying little crowd of ad­mirers, but he couldn’t very well show such emotion in front of his mother.
Sujata (peevishly) : You should go now.
He turned to his mother and smiled, just the sort of dev­ilish grin designed to take her mind off of whatever it was that had her so fixated.
Sanskaar : Mom! Tell me why I would want to dance with Swara when I can dance with beautiful you instead?
Sujata : You naughty rascal!
But she smiled and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. Sanskaar knew he’d pay for this tomorrow; already the society matrons were circling him for the kill, and there was nothing they liked better than a rich flirt who doted upon his mother.

The dance was a lively one, which didn’t allow for much conversation. And as he twisted and turned, dipped and bowed, he kept catching glances of Swara, radi­ant in her sunflower empire gown. No one seemed to notice that he was watching her. But just then his mother said something, and he turned to respond.
And when he turned back to face her again, she was gone.
He frowned. That didn’t seem right. He supposed she could have darted out to the ladies’ retiring room, but, pa­thetic fool that he was, he’d been watching her closely enough that he knew that she had done that just twenty minutes earlier.
He completed his dance with his mother, excused himself, then ambled casually over to the north side of the room, where he’d last seen Swara. He had to move quickly, lest someone tried to waylay him. But he kept his ears open as he moved through the crowds. No one, however, seemed to be speaking of her.
When he reached her previous location, however, he noticed huge sliding doors, presumably to the back garden. They were curtained and closed. It was April, and warm enough to be letting the night air in. Sanskaar was instantly suspicious; he’d lured too many women out to gardens himself not to be aware of what could happen in the dark of the night.
He slipped outside, making his exit unobtrusive. If Swara was indeed out in the back garden with a gen­tleman, the last thing he wanted was a crowd trailing in his wake.

The rumble of the party seemed to pulsate through the glass doors, but even with that, the night felt quiet.
Then he heard her voice.
And it sliced his gut.
She sounded happy, he realized, more than content to be in the company of whatever man had lured her out into the dark. Sanskaar couldn’t make out her words, but she was definitely laughing. It was a musical, tinkling sound, and it ended in a soul-searing, flirtatious murmur.
Sanskaar put his hand back on the knob. He should leave. She wouldn’t want him here.
But he was rooted to the spot.
He’d never—ever—spied on her with Laksh. Not once had he listened in on a conversation that wasn’t meant to include him. If he stumbled within earshot, he had always removed himself immediately. But now—it was different. He couldn’t explain it, but it was different, and he could not force himself to leave.
One more minute, he swore to himself. That was all. One more minute to assure that she was not in a danger­ous situation, and then he heard her voice.
Swara : No no!
Swara’s voice.
Sanskaar took a step in the direction of the voice. He tried to figure out her tone. She didn’t sound upset, but it wasn’t the same happy tone he had heard earlier.
Swara : Please stop it! NO!
And that was all it took for Sanskaar to move.
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Swara knew she shouldn’t have come out with Kartik Tiwari but he had been polite and very attentive. Besides, it was too hot in the hall. She thought a walk would do her good. So she had told Ragini she was going to be in the gardens with Kartik Tiwari and catch some fresh air.
All had been perfectly pleasant for the first few min­utes. Tiwari made her laugh, and he made her feel beautiful, and it was almost heartbreaking to realize how much she’d missed that. And so she had laughed and flirted, and allowed herself to melt into the moment. She wanted to feel like a woman again—maybe not in the fullest sense of the word, but still, was it so wrong to enjoy the heady intoxication of knowing that she was desired?
Maybe they wanted the alignment with two of Kolkata’s most notable families—Swara was both a Gadodia and a Maheshwari, after all. But for one lovely evening, she was going to let herself believe it was all about her.
But then he had moved closer. Swara had backed up as discreetly as she was able, but he took an­other step in her direction, and then another, and before she knew it, her back was against a fat-trunked tree, and
Kartik Tiwari’s hands were planted against the bark, each uncomfortably close to her head.
Swara (firmly but politely) : What do you think you’re doing, Mr Tiwari? Please take your hands out at once. I think you misunderstand me.
She kept her voice light and friendly, not wishing to provoke him into something she would regret.
His head dipped an inch closer to hers.
Kartik : I don’t think I misunderstood you at all. Let’s have some fun, Shall we?
Swara : Mr Tiwari! I DEMAND you to let me GO right now. My sister will be looking for me. (ducking to one side so that he couldn’t touch her) For the last time, LET me…
He put a hand on her cheek which made her freeze. He leaned in closer to put his lips over hers. Swara twisted this way and that, but he was stronger than she had realized, and he clearly had no intention of letting her escape. Still struggling, she maneuvered her leg so that she might jam her knee up into his groin, but before she could do that, the man seemed to… quite simply… disappear.
Swara (surprised) : Oh!

There was a flurry of movement, a noise that sounded rather sickeningly like knuckles on flesh, and one very heartfelt cry of pain. By the time Swara had any idea what was going on, Kartik Tiwari was sprawled on the ground, swearing most vehemently, and a man loomed over him, his boot planted firmly on Tiwari’s chest.
Swara (shocked) : Sanskaar?
Sanskaar’s voice shook her. She had never heard him speak in that tone before.
Sanskaar (looking at her) : Did he hurt you? Tell me and I’ll teach him a lesson he’ll never forget.
Swara immediately said no. She’d not have felt the least bit guilty for kneeing Kartik between the legs, but she didn’t want Sanskaar to kill the man.
And from the look on Sanskaar’s face, she was quite certain he would have happily done so.
Sanskaar (in that same tone) : Are you sure?
Swara (coming closer to Sanskaar) : Yes! I’m sure. Maybe we could just…
She shrugged helplessly. She didn’t want the man killed but neither could she condone his behaviour. But if she did complain, then her reputation would be affected as well as Sanskaar’s for hurting a popular man in the society. She didn’t care about her reputation but she damn well would make sure Sanskaar wasn’t affected by all this.
For a moment Sanskaar did nothing but stare at her. Hard, in the eyes, and with an intensity that robbed her of the ability to breathe. Then he punched Kartik Tiwari once more before standing up, placing his boot on Tiwari’s chest.
Sanskaar : Are you sure you don’t want me to…
Swara : No! I never should have come out with him.
Sanskaar : Maybe you shouldn’t have. But you never sent an invitation to him. Don’t blame yourself. This pig has to answer to that.
Abruptly, he removed his boot from Tiwari’s chest and hauled the quivering man to his feet. Grabbing him by his collar, he pinned him against the tree and then jerked his own body forward until the two men were nearly nose to nose.
Sanskaar : How do you like it? Being trapped?
Kartik Tiwari said nothing, just stared at him in terror.
Sanskaar : Guess you didn’t hear about you dear friend Vinay Pathak? How dare you both talk about Swara in that way?
Swara looked at him surprised. What had Sanskaar done to Vinay Pathak?
Sanskaar : Do you have something to say?
Kartik : I’m sorry!
Rather like a girl, Swara thought dispassionately. She’d known he wouldn’t make a good husband, but that clinched it.

But Sanskaar was not through with him.
Sanskaar : Next time you come in front of me or her again, Or if I hear anything about Mrs Maheshwari that shouldn’t be spoken, I will make sure you are never able to be a father. Do you understand?
Even Swara flinched. Kartik looked at him in shock.
Sanskaar left the man and stood still, dangerously so, and then shrugged one insolent shoulder.
Sanskaar : Get lost now.
Swara realized she was holding her breath. He was terrifying, but he was also magnificent, and it shook her to her very core to realize that she’d never seen him thus.
Never dreamed he could be like this.
Tiwari ran off, heading across the lawn to the back gate, leaving Swara alone with Sanskaar, alone and, for the first time since she’d known him, without a word to say.
Swara (realizing she had to tell something) : I’m sorry.
Sanskaar (his eyes still glinting with anger) : Don’t you dare apologise. That man had no business touching…. I mean.. He shouldn’t have done that. Don’t apologise. HE should have known better.
It was true, and Swara was certainly not going to take the blame for her attack, but at the same time, she thought it best not to feed his anger any further, at least not right now. She’d never seen him like this. In truth, she’d never seen anyone like this—wound so tightly with fury that he seemed as if he might snap into pieces. She’d thought he was out of control, but now, as she watched him, standing so still she was afraid to breathe, she real­ized that the opposite was true.
Sanskaar was holding onto his control with all his willpower; if he hadn’t, Kartik Tiwari would be lying in a blo*dy heap right now.
Swara opened her mouth to say something more, something placating or even funny, but she found herself without words, without the ability to do anything but watch him, this man she’d thought she knew so well.
There was something mesmerizing about the moment, and she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. He was breath­ing hard, obviously still struggling to control his anger, and he was, she realized with curiosity, not entirely there. He was staring at some far off horizon, his eyes unfo­cused, and he looked almost…
In pain.
Swara (whispering) : Sanskaar!
She received no response. She called him again and touched his elbow lightly. He flinched and turned towards her so quickly, she stumbled.
Sanskaar : Yes?
Swara realized she had nothing to say. She just wanted to tell his name.
Swara : Not..Nothing.
He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, clearly waiting for her to say more.
Swara : I think I’ll go home.
All she wanted to do was cocoon her­self where all was safe and familiar.

Because Sanskaar was suddenly neither of those things.
Sanskaar (nodding) : I’ll tell the others. We can leave.
Swara : No no! Ma and Chachi are having a lovely time inside. Not to mention my mother and Ragini. I’ll go home alone. Let them have fun.
Sanskaar : How did you come?
Swara : Ma, Chachi and I came with the driver. I don’t know if the car is here. We asked him to leave and come when we call.
She noted that both of them were speaking in neutral tones. Things that were manageable. Things that were uncomplicated.
Sanskaar : Then you go back in my car. I’ll ask the driver to pick Mom and Badi Ma later.
Swara : What about you?
Sanskaar : Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Now come.
He escorted her the whole way to the car and handed over the keys. Swara opened the door to enter, when she thought of something.
Swara ( holding the open car door) : Sanskaar? How did you know where I was?
He didn’t say anything. Or maybe he would have done, just not quickly enough to suit her.
Swara : Were you watching me?
His lips curved, not quite into a smile, not even into the beginnings of a smile.
Sanskaar (whispering) : I’m always watching you, Swara.
And she was left with that to ponder for the rest of the night.
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Three hours later, Swara heard Sanskaar return. Ma and Chachi had returned about an hour earlier and had told her that Sanskaar was meeting with some of his friends before coming back home.
Most likely to avoid her, she’d decided, even though there was no reason for him to expect to see her at such a late hour. After all, It was nearly 1.
Still, she had left earlier that evening with the distinct impression that Sanskaar did not desire her company.
He had defended her honor with all the valour and purpose of a true hero, but she couldn’t help but feel that it was done almost reluctantly, as if it was some­thing he had to do, not something he wanted to do.
And even worse, that she was someone whose com­pany he had to endure, rather than the cherished friend she had always told herself she was.
That, she realized, hurt.
Swara felt like Sanskaar didn’t want to talk to her and she was hurt. Sanskaar was the one person she never thought she would lose… but now, she didn’t know what was happening.
Swara found herself waiting for Sanskaar. She waited to hear his footsteps as he entered his room.
She had no idea what she was listening for, or even why she felt the need to hear his footsteps as he moved about his room, but she simply had to do it. Something had changed tonight. Or maybe nothing had changed, which might have been worse. Was it possible that Sanskaar had never been the man she’d thought he was? Could she have been so close to him for so long, counted him as one of her dearest friends, even when they’d been estranged, and still not known him?
She’d never dreamed that Sanskaar might have secrets from her. From her! Everyone else, maybe, but not her.
And it left her feeling rather off balance and untidy.
No matter what she did, no matter what she thought, she still felt as if she were sliding. To where, she didn’t know, and she didn’t dare hazard a guess.
But the ground was most definitely no longer firm be­neath her feet.
Just then the front door slammed and Swara jumped. There was no reason for the door to make such a sound unless someone had banged it. Sanskaar was clearly exerting his strength tonight.
Sanskaar was home, which meant she could finally just go to bed and at least pretend to sleep. He was home, which meant that it was time to declare the evening offi­cially over. She should put this behind her, move on, maybe pretend nothing had happened…
But when she heard his footsteps coming up the stairs, she did the one thing she never would have expected her­self to do—
She opened her door and dashed out into the hall.
She had no idea what she was doing. Not even a clue. By the time her bare feet touched the runner carpet, she was so shocked at her own actions that she found herself somewhat frozen and out of breath.

Sanskaar looked exhausted. And surprised. And heart-stoppingly handsome with his tie slightly loosened and his midnight hair falling in wavy locks over his fore­head. Which left her wondering—When had she begun to notice how handsome he was? It had always been some­thing that had simply been there, that she knew in an in­tellectual sense but never really took note of.
But now…
Her breath caught. Now his beauty seemed to fill the air around her, swirling about her skin, leaving her shiv­ery and hot, all at the same time.
Sanskaar (in a tired voice) : Swara!
Of course she had nothing to say. It was so unlike her to do something like this, to rush in without thinking about what she was planning, but she didn’t particularly feel like herself that evening.
She was so unsettled, so off balance, and the only thought in her head before dashing out her door was that she had to see him. Just catch a glimpse and maybe hear his voice. If she could convince herself that he really was the person she thought she knew, then maybe she was still the same, too.
Because she didn’t feel the same.
And it shook her to the core.
Swara : Sanskaar! I hope you’re okay?
Sanskaar (nodding once) : I’m alright! Just tired.
Swara : Ofcourse.. Yes. Yes.
Sanskaar smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Sanskaar : Yes!
Swara tried to smile, but it didn’t work.
Swara : I didn’t thank you for earlier. I am glad you came… Though I was just going to knee him right before you…
Sanskaar : No thanks necessary. I would never have let him hurt you.
Swara (lamely) : Ofcourse.
Sanskaar : Ofcourse! Now, if you will excuse me.
He moved as if heading for his bedroom door, but Swara wasn’t quite ready to end the conversa­tion.
Swara : Stop!

Sanskaar turned around with deliberation and a fair amount of irritation, though he tried to conceal it.
Sanskaar : What is it, Swara?
Swara : I… That…
Sanskaar : If you can’t think about it, I suggest we talk in the morning.
He turned to go, but Swara stopped him by placing a hand on his elbow. Sanskaar froze.
Swara (whispering) : Why are you angry with me?
Sanskaar didn’t turn to look at her. He just shook his head, as if he couldn’t quite believe her question. But he did not take his eyes off of her hand on his arm.
Sanskaar : I am not angry, Swara. What’s wrong with you? I’m just tired.
Swara realized that she hadn’t even realized she’d felt this way until the words had left her lips. But something wasn’t right between them, and she had to know why.
Swara : I know you are.
Her voice rose with conviction. Now that she’d said it, she knew it was true. He tried to hide it, and he’d become quite accomplished at apologizing when he slipped, but there was anger inside of him, and it was directed at her.
Sanskaar placed his hand over hers. Swara gasped at the heat of the contact, but then all he did was lift her hand off of his arm and allow it to drop.
Sanskaar : Good night Swara.
He turned and entered his bedroom. Swara stood gapingly at the now closed door before unheedingly and unthinkingly, she pushed the door open and walked in.
Sanskaar looked at her. If he hadn’t been angry before, he was now.
Sanskaar : Did you just enter my bedroom? Go back, Swara!
Swara : You can’t just dismiss me like that. Answer my question, Sanskaar. Why are you angry with me?
Sanskaar (in a low voice) : Swara! Go to your room. Now.
Swara (defiantly) : Not unless you answer my question.
Sanskaar held himself perfectly still. His every muscle had frozen into a hard, stiff line, and it was a blessing, re­ally, because if he’d allowed himself to move—if he’d felt even capable of moving—he would have lunged at her. And what he would do when he caught her was any­one’s guess.
He’d been pushed to the edge. First by her brother, and then by Kartik Tiwari, and now by Swara herself, standing in front of him without a blo*dy clue.
His world had been overturned by a single suggestion.
Why don’t you just marry her?
It dangled before him like a ripe apple, a wicked possi­bility that shouldn’t be his to take.
Laksh, his conscience pounded. Laksh. Remember Laksh.
Sanskaar : Swara! Leave. It’s not the time for you to be in my room.
But she didn’t. Damn her, she didn’t even move. She just stood there, three feet past the still-open doorway, staring at him as if she’d never seen him before.
He tried not to notice that her hair was loose. He tried not to see that she was wearing her nightclothes.
Swara : Why are you angry with me?
Sanskaar’s heart clenched. Swara sounded small, hurt, So un-Swara-like that all he wanted to do was–
No! He closed his eyes and muttered the words She’s not for me in his head. He then opened.
Sanskaar : I’m not angry with you.
Swara (glaring at him) : It’s because I want to marry again, isn’t it?
He didn’t know how to answer, so he just glared back.
Swara (accusingly) : You think I’m betraying Laksh. That’s it, right?
Sanskaar closed his eyes.
Sanskaar (thinking) : Not you. It’s me who’s betraying him.
Sanskaar : Of course not Swara.. I..
But she wasn’t listening..
Swara : Don’t you think I feel the same way? Do you think I don’t think about him each and every day? We went around the fire 7 times. We were meant to be married for 7 lifetimes. But that didn’t happen, did it?
He looked at her. She was breathing hard, caught up in her anger and maybe her grief as well.
Swara : I will never get someone like Laksh again. Do you think I want to smile at the idiots who come everyday? But I don’t know what to do. I want a baby so badly.. A child… If only I blo*dy didn’t.
She broke off, maybe from overemotion. She just stood there, blinking, her lips parted and quivering, looking as if she might break at the merest touch.
He should have been more sympathetic. He should have tried to comfort her. And he would have done both of those things, if they had been in any other room be­sides his bedchamber. But as it was, it was all he could do just to control his breathing.
And himself.
She looked back up at him, her eyes huge and heart-stoppingly soft.

Swara : You don’t understand.
She walked to a long, low bureau of drawers. She leaned heavily against it, her fin­gers biting the wood and muttered the words again.
And somehow that was more than he could take. She had barged her way in here, demanding answers when she didn’t even understand the questions. She’d invaded his bedchamber, pushed him to the limit, and now she was just going to dismiss him? Turn her back on him and tell him he didn’t know?
Sanskaar : What don’t I understand Swara?
He demanded, just before he crossed the room. His feet were silent but swift, and be­fore he knew it he was right behind her, close enough to touch, close enough to grab what he wanted and—
She whirled around.
Swara : Sanskaar…
And then she stopped. Didn’t make another sound. Did nothing but allow her eyes to lock onto his.
he stood there, stock still, the only sound her breath over her lips. And her eyes never left his face.

His fingers tingled. His body burned. She was close. As close as she’d ever stood to him. And if she were any­one else, he would have sworn that she wanted to be kissed.
Her lips were parted, her eyes were unfocused. And her chin seemed to tilt up, as if she were waiting, wishing, wondering when he would finally bend down and seal her fate.
He felt himself say something. Her name, maybe. His chest grew tight, and his heart pounded, and suddenly the impossible became the inevitable, and he realized that this time there was no stopping. This time it wasn’t about his control or his sacrifice or his guilt.
This time was for him.
And he was going to kiss her.
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When Swara thought about it later, the only excuse she could come up with was that she didn’t know he was right be­hind her. The carpet was soft and thick, and she hadn’t heard his footsteps over the roaring of blood in her ears. She didn’t know all that, she couldn’t have, because then she never would have whirled around, intending for all the world to silence him with a scathing retort. She was going to say something horrid and cutting, and intended to make him feel guilty and awful, but when she turned…
He was right there.
Close, so close. Mere inches away. It had been years since anyone had stood so close to her, and never, ever Sanskaar.
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t do any­thing but breathe as she stared at his face, realizing with an awful intensity that she wanted him to kiss her.
Sanskaar.
Good God, she wanted Sanskaar.
It was like a knife slicing through her. She wasn’t sup­posed to feel this. She wasn’t supposed to want anyone. But Sanskaar…
She should have walked away. Hell, she should have ran. But something rooted her to the spot. She couldn’t take her eyes off of his, couldn’t help but moisten her lips, and when his hands settled on her shoulders, she didn’t protest.
She didn’t even move.
And maybe, just maybe she even leaned in a little, something within her recognizing this moment, this sub­tle dance between man and woman.
He touched her chin, raised her face just the barest hint.
Still, she didn’t say no.
She stared at him, licked her lips, and waited…
Waited for the moment, the first touch, because as ter­rifying and wrong as it was, she knew it would feel like perfection.
And it did.
He pressed closer to her, pushing her back against the wall, covering her with his body until she could do nothing but reach up and put her hands around his neck, pulling him towards her until his lips gave her what she wanted.
She was consumed with the feel of him, the strength of him as he moved his hands from her shoulders and cupped her jaw to align her mouth more perfectly to his own.
He licked at the seam of her lips, the feel of his tongue tempting her until she gasped. He took advantage of that and slid his tongue inside. Of their own volition, her fingers caressed his soft hairs at the back of his neck and she pulled herself more close to him, more scandalously and she didn’t care.
She didn’t care as long as he never stopped.
She was mesmerized, transfixed by his touch. She couldn’t quite bring herself to make another move, to in­vite him in any other manner than the soft sway of her body, but neither did she make any attempt to break the contact.
She just waited, breath baited, for him to do something more.
And he did. His hand found the small of her back and splayed there, his fingers tempting her with their intoxi­cating heat. He didn’t exactly pull her toward him, but the pressure was there, and the space between them whis­pered away until she could feel the gentle scrape of his evening clothes through the silk of her dressing gown.
His lips grew more demanding, and hers parted, allow­ing him greater exploration. He took full advantage, his tongue swooping in in a dangerous dance, teasing and tempting, stoking her desire until her legs grew weak and she acknowledged that she was there in the kiss, too, that she was taking part.
That she wanted this.
His hand slid up her back, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His fingers caressed her shoulder, slid down her arm and then he whispered her name.
Sanskaar (too overcome with desire) : Swara!
Swara froze. But Sanskaar was too far gone to notice. His hands moved even more and Swara realised she couldn’t do it. It was too intimate.
It was too… Sanskaar.
Sanskaar’s mouth went to her cheek and slowly left a burning trace all the way to her ear.
Swara (closing her eyes for strength) : No! Sanskaar… (moving away) I…. I can’t.
She didn’t want to look at him, but she couldn’t not do it. And when she did, she was sorry.
His chin was dipped, and his face was slightly turned, but he was still staring at her, his eyes searing and intense.
And she was burned.
Swara : I… I’m sorry… I can’t….
He said nothing.
Swara : I… I… No.. Can’t…
Sanskaar : Go… Now!
She ran.
She ran to her bedroom, and then the next day she ran to her mother.
And then the day after that, she ran all the way to the Maheshwari estate in Parna.
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PRECAP : One month later
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Hey guys… It’s finally getting serious… I’m moving quite fast… I’m sticking to the story till now.. But i’m not sure if i’ll change it here on…
Hope you like it..
i’ve mentioned this before, But let me tell it again.. MMAI was more a family story where as this is mainly Swasan which is why it’s more intense.. if you guys feel i’m not using the proper words or making it too vulgar, please do tell me..
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i really wanna know what you think of this story… Some of them have compared it to mmai and told it’s not as good.. maybe it’s not.. but i never meant it to be better or the same as mmai.. i just want ppl to like this.. Please do give ur opinion on this story 🙂 🙂
Love you all!!! :* :*
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