"Marry me."

Gauri's fingers coiled around the iron railing deftly. If she could, she would have wrenched the life out of it. Little wonder, the thing was lifeless, coaxing her to settle for a mild grip.

Her eyeballs did their movement from right to left, then left to right, and again right to left. Ahead of her were translucent curtains of shadows, folding and unfolding, blurring the streets by the darkness of night. The unreliable stretch of road was so dark that even the streetlights seemed to hunch back, admitting their defeat.

A weary smile flickered deep inside.

"Darkness encompasses and a numbing aloofness creeps from the air. The sole flame flickers to fight for another wisp of its existence," Gauri paused briefly, adding a little more of her weight upon the railing.
"Does light always eradicate darkness?"

Her eyes moved skywards, longing for the companionship of stars, only to find the night's sky robbed of her children of light. Dark grey clouds mocked back at her, curdling a sour look and twisting their mouth in distaste as they growled thunders down on her. In earnest, she was left with a wish to be patted to sleep by the soothing raindrops.

But it did not rain.

Rudra bent beside her, his arms coming to relax upon the railing.

"Fine men run towards light. They seek light against darkness," he said.

Gauri eyed him. Her eyes and mind were trying to coordinate to figure out... things with no upper hand so far.

He chuckled lightly, and she continued to stare at him.

"What they seem to forget is that light has no significance without darkness. It is darkness that sets them on the quest for light. Light is nothing without darkness," Rudra added, sparing her a concise stare and a roguish grin.
"Yet fine men run towards light. They seek light against darkness."

Gauri bobbed her head. Minced words were as good as sour grapes to her, satisfying to look at but not sweet to feast on. Her eyes sweeped over to embrace the darkness ahead.

"They do," she agreed with a reluctant smile.
"And what does that make you, Rudra? Fine, I suppose?"

Rudra broke into a hearty laughter, offering her for a reply. Finally facing her, he let his fingers hover over her face. Their dark shadows set a contrast to her rosy-pale cheeks. Something was stopping him, that was all Gauri could interpret.

"I was born in the long night of dark moon," he began solemnly. "The night of prayers and fear. They say, the night had its black dyes spilled all over with the rain falling down in torrents. A night nothing less than beautiful."

Gauri's lips parted, her face bloomed like the result of a spell, conjured — as if willingly beguiled into a trance. She could not stop herself from getting sucked into the whirlpool of golden-browns.

A few strands curled like tendrils over Rudra's eyes. A strong gust of wind undid the curls, arraying them near his eyelids.

"'Fine' does not define me. 'Fine' has never been my identity," he asserted.

A traitor lock of hair blew on Gauri's face. And she was back from the trance before she knew it. She slowly averted her gaze. However, it seemed petulant to Rudra. He threaded his fingers through her hair smoothly, tangling the ends on his fingers, forming a low arch between them. The ghost of smile played on his lips while his eyes viewed upon the newly formed physical connection.

Gauri squeezed her eyes shut. Nothing was fairing as she thought it would. Wasn't it her problem? She thought and thought and thought; she did nothing. Despite the entirety of her self-deprecating state, she would not fall back, not now.

"After all this, you would wonder why I didn't desert this situation," Gauri voiced out, blinking rapidly.

They were sent to the terrace after everything that had transpired in the living room. Of course, she had to thank her Nani sa for her much needed interruption. Moti Kunwar's voice had overruled all other's — specifically her Mamo sa's voice. She had generously granted them few moments of privacy with an authoritative politeness. Gauri was sure, she would have reached out to her and hugged her in gratitude, if not for the gravity of the state of affairs that had put shackles on her.

She had seen all that. She was likely to feel all that.

Although her Nani sa's words were intended for her, she had not spared a single glance her way. Moti Kunwar's eyes had not strayed away from the man standing beside her, Rudra. Her mother, on the other hand, had her gaze stuck on the floor, her forehead creased and mouth set in a frown. What would Gauri have not given for her mother to glare at her, at the least. Soumya had afforded some meek bathed-in-concern looks at her; that too had stopped once both of them had acknowledged Rajveer's seething presence. All of his fury was for Rudra, he had none for his niece. No one had any emotion directed towards her.

And that hurt her.

So when Rudra had held her elbow and led her upstairs, she had been grateful to him. To be out of that level of suffocation, she was grateful to him.

Lastly when her rational mind came banging at her door, all that gratefulness had drained off in the blink of an eye. Wasn't he the root cause of... everything? How often did one walk in her home, claiming to be her boyfriend and flaunting their relationship on the face of her family? Her family was not in the blame, he was. She ought to be angry on him.

"Marry me."

"I wouldn't," Rudra replied, a lopsided grin ruling his face. "I don't like being disappointed, and — least to say — your flight would be heavily disappointing."

Strangely, Gauri could not bring it in herself to be angry on him. She felt pain and guilt and amazement and hurt, even happiness, but no resentment at him. She could not, not then, not now.

Truth be told, the Gods above knew, she was as much the part of the blame as Rudra was.

"Marry me." Her gaze flitted over his face, the hint of his usual mirthful shine was back. It never actually went away.

"Why now? I am so lost," Gauri asked softly. "Why so out of blue? Why, Rudra?"

"Why not?" Rudra inquired.
"Everything that has been going on between us, where did you think it would lead us?"

"But then, you want me to believe that it has nothing to do with anything else? No ulterior motives?" Gauri freed her hair, unknotting the resistance, making it slip through his fingers.

Rudra smiled mischievously, staring at his fingers, flexing them.

"I don't want you to believe anything," he said, clasping his hands behind him. It was then that Gauri took notice of his attire: formals.

"It's time for you to lay your notions in front of me, bare," he added, staring at her intently, observing her wordlessly.

Gauri felt goosebumps rising, something about the way he looked at her seemed unnerving. Her thoughts appeared naked... laid bare in front of him.

"Like everytime, you've come for my rescue. As usual, I... I didn't even discuss my problems to you, yet you already seem to know," Gauri said, meeting his eyes.
"Tell me, Rudra, should I be grateful or scared of the very fact?"

His lips twitched as a slow smug smile spread over. He cocked his head, looking at her, wordless as he was.

"Dear angel," he called out, his hand raising to stroke her cheek. "At times, you make me feel controversial emotions for you."

He brought his mouth near her ear, his lips grazing on the edge as he spoke, "Emotions, I would rather keep to myself."

Gauri leaned into his touch, her hand clasping his where it rested. Her eyes were tired, a redness had started rimming the whites.

"I want the truth from you."

Rudra cradled her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks gently.

"What is truth? It is but a mere illusion of complex vitalities that comprise of what we see... and what lies beyond our eyes. Still, if truth is what you demand, then truth is what you shall be rewarded with."

"However half I intend to disclose." He could consider it a gift to his intended bride.

Gauri exhaled deeply.
"You are a devious man, Rudra."

"Rudra," she uttered his name so softly as if speaking louder would be a sin. Her eyes — now shining with tears — peered at him.
"Love me."

A mask that could only be defined as unscrupulous, for it was, swathed his visage. A smile danced on his lips, his eyes locking with hers in an intense mesh. When his head began the descent, she closed her eyes, lining her eyelashes with the moisture of her tears. He was in no hurry, she noticed ruefully. Their breaths mingled, his lips were seconds away from hers, kissing the air between them. His fingers had taken a cover in her long tresses, whereas his thumbs traced mindless patterns on her cheekbones. A pleasant flutter waltzed in her abdomen. Maybe she was wrong all this while. There was nothing more she wanted than to be proved wrong, right then and there.

Rudra smiled, his eyes steeled beyond comprehension.

"Gauri," he whispered.

And within seconds, every touch, every connection retreated abruptly. Gauri snapped her eyes open, staring at him. The difference, though, her stare wasn't as blank as his; she wasn't capable of that. A tear fought its way over the brink of her eye, and then down her cheek.

For once, Gauri Singh was wronged on being proved right, for the truth was really an illusion she had chosen to ignore.

"Marry me."

"How is it that I... I... " She laughed bitterly.

"Careful, angel. Words once uttered cannot be taken back," Rudra reminded, dignified as always.

"And actions once done cannot be unperformed," Gauri pointed out.

"Your eyes see what you want to see." Rudra stepped closer, a thoughtful look embracing his sharp, immaculate features.
"Your mind interprets what you want to make out of things. But not every truth needs an exposure, and not every truth needs to be said out loud. Some must remain a diffident tangle for your betterment... and mine."

Gauri shook her head frantically. This battle of words had gone too far. It was time for a clear-cut dual that would put an end to this. Either she would win, or she would lose, she would have to come terms with both.

She reigned her raging emotions and looked at Rudra who was studying her intently.

"If there is anything I need from you now, then it is your bluntness," Gauri said, taking a deep breath. "Can you give me that?"

Rudra grinned.
"I prefer to be cautious, always. What can be a better way to do that than to maneuver your speech?"

Gauri intended to intervene but Rudra gestured her to stop.

"However---" His voice altered into a guttural one.
"---for the love you bear for me, I accept to be blunt with you, just this once."

Gauri sighed. Whether it was in relief or not, she didn't know.

"My problems and your visit with... "

"Marry me." She swallowed hard before wetting her lips.

"... Both coincide strangely," she finished.

Rudra tilted his head at an angle to the right. "Perhaps. Nevertheless, it doesn't concern me."

"So a game it is then." Gauri understood what it meant. He would only shed light on the topics he deemed appropriate, rest were as good as pile of ashes.

She had heard him in the living room an hour ago. He knew about Mr. Shekhawat's proposal. What shocked her was his accuracy to delve into the time duration? Almost a year, that did come new to her. And her Mamo sa didn't dismiss the fact. Was there anything she could read in between the situations?

Her head weighed down with a headache. She could feel the prickling in the delicate nerves of her eyes. There was no point in her blind rush, especially when Rudra wasn't willing to clear it for her. This would have to wait until she stumbled onto something more resourceful.

"Okay."

Rudra observed her a minute longer. He himself calculated the statistics of the information he ought to pour; the expenditure of investment against the profits of outcome.

"At this point, you need to make the decision," he hinted.

"Marry me."

Despite everything, it did not fail to make her heart flutter, to make her stomach churn with weird sensations. She had to be a hopeless fool; there was no denying in that.

"Why didn't you wait for a more proper setting?" Gauri asked. Obviously, he could have waited till morning.

"Tomorrow," Rudra prompted, sweeping his gaze around. "Things might change."

Tomorrow, the media would splash his whereabouts on the front page of the newspaper. Rudra Pratap Rathore wouldn't remain a stranger with a strong name but a vague face.

"How?" Gauri did not dare to ask. Tomorrow wasn't quite far. She would know soon.

"Gauri."

Gauri almost flinched, owing to the seriousness of his tone.

Rudra stared at her, taking in her expressions.

"I offer you a bed of roses," he said gravely.

"Marry me." Gauri looked at him. Shadows rose and fell around her, caging her.

"It'll always be beautiful to look at, fragrant with exclusiveness. Extravagant and rare. But beneath the red-velvety deception lies thorns to greet you. Sharp, pointed and deadly," Rudra said.

He walked closer, one step at a time, backing her on the edge of the terrace.

"What is beautiful may have the ugliest of intentions in their heart. Making a mistake comes at an expense, so high, you would think why you committed the sin to begin with. Thorns will prickle, never let them embed."

He tipped her chin upwards, so as to dive into her eyes.

"Because if they do, you won't get a chance to stop the infection. It will hollow you from inside, killing you slowly. Your only prayer should be survival, and your only motive must be to fight back."

A lightening flashed across the sky, ripping apart the skin of clouds. In that light, Gauri saw him. There was nothing more ominous she'd ever seen in any man's face her entire life than what she saw on his.

"You're so sure," Gauri mentioned.

Rudra cracked a devilish smile. Bringing her face closer, he spoke, "You don't have a choice."

"Indeed," Gauri agreed in her mind.

"Do you know what would I say even if I get to make a choice?" Gauri quizzed, smiling through her tears.

"Marry me."

"I'll marry you."

Something similar to disappointment flickered in his eyes. Though the inane emotion vanished as soon as it came. Disappointment? On whom? Himself? Or, her?

Her, perhaps.

Rudra caressed her tenderly. He pressed his lips upon her eyelids and rested his forehead on hers.

"You have been quite blunt, you know," Gauri whispered.

Rudra chortled, although his expression remained grim.

"If that is how it is, my love, the let me make the most of it," Gauri said. Yet another wet streak travelled down the same lane.

"I love you, Rudra," she paused, her shivering hands clutched his sleeves.
"Do you?"

The sky yelled in synchronization. The wind gave a cry of fatigue as, slowly but undeniably, it died down. A drop or two of rain pinched her forehead.

Rudra held her hands, feathering a kiss on the inside of the wrist of either hand.

"Dear angel," he said, unsmiling for once.

He turned around and walked towards the door.

A sob tore from Gauri's throat as she splayed herself on the floor, her petite frame raking with hiccups. The sky opened up to her agony.

"All this while... "

It did not rain but it poured.

The rainwater mercilessly cut through her wounds. Curtains of wet hair clung to her face while she cried out her misery.

Rudra stared at her blankly, leaning against the wall, waiting for her to follow him downstairs. Gauri was always a part of this game. And for that... he did not plead guilty.

.
.
.

A celebration paralleled the Rathore's party, far away with less gathering.

Jaswant Singh Shekhawat embraced Devendra Raj, welcoming him with a toast.

"Ah!" He exclaimed, taking a sip of the strong booze. "You don't know how pleased I am to have you here, Dev. I hope you don't mind me calling you that."

"Of course not," Devendra smiled slyly, clinking his glass with Jaswant's.

"Bhaisaheb will be none the happier to meet you."

"It'll be an honour. Meeting Digvijay Singh Shekhawat has been a dream of mine. The pleasure is likely to be mine," Devendra replied.

"You impress me, Dev," Jaswant concurred.

"Do I?"

Laughter filled their company. The people alongside them seemed to resonate it.

All were unaware of a pair of dull-copper eyes that feasted on them like a hawk. No one noticed the person who was enjoying their apparent exultation in the lawn from the window of the highest tower.

A chess piece rolled meticulously from one finger to another as he came to hunch before the huge window.

"Sweet sweet torments...
Oh, flattery jittery comments..."

The walls of the room woke alive from his roars of laughter.

*****

A/N: A reader of mine asked me via pm whether she could love and hate Rudra at the same time. I say, each one of these characters comes with their own full-packed demon. You are bound to hate them at one point of time.

Anyway, 58 readers made me acknowledge them in the previous chapter. I want to acknowledge 10 more in this chapter. Take your own sweet time, but then I too will be taking my own sweet time in updating. No issues.
:D