Thin line

Summary: "Hum se shaadi karlo Amrit. Sachchi wali..."

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For a moment neither of them says anything. Amrit isn't certain if he means to answer her instant complain or means something else altogether.

His eyes are different, with drops of water hanging from his lashes. They are dark, hooded and strangely - full of promise.

Something stirs inside her, beginning of a whirl that Amrit does not want to get caught in.

"Challo!" Veer pushes her forward, breaking that pause between them.

Drenched they crowd under the shade of the boathouse roof while Veer fumbles with the door. It opens a crack - and he pushes it all the way open.

Amrit enters hastily, not quiet looking at him.

Inside is dark, dimly lit only by the dangling lanterns outside. Their light wavers in the rainy wind and cast moving beams of orcher into the room. Amrit who expected some kind of a warehouse stops short.

Inside is an artist's retreat.

There are stacks of canvases in the corners. A table groaning beneath the weight of supplies. On the walls hang a few choice paintings and in a corner, is another table with stacked up paper work.

Taking a turn Amrit notices the door leading away from that main room. This place is larger than she had anticipated.

Veer peels off his jacket, muttering some choice words under his breath. Just as a beam of light crosses the room and the water in his hair glisten, Veer looks up and meets her eye.

"Can you try to light that goddamn thing?" He gestures with his chin at the lantern behind her, dangling in front of the window. "I can't see anything. Matches wohi par hai dekho."

Amrit jerks and whips around, her cheeks heating up at having been caught staring.

She feels around for matches and finds a box on the windowsill. Her fingers fumble to produce a light. She hadn't been that cold to start with. But her hands tremble now, Amrit could barely strike the match.

On her fourth try, she jumps with a gasp when much larger hands grip hers and halts them. Veer stands behind her, his hands covering hers, holding them steady until their trembling stops.

Amrit gulps, feeling his arms brush against hers - feeling his body heat seeping and meeting hers through all those layers of partially wet clothing.

Veer guides her hands, steadily gripping them and they strike the match together.

The spark catches and the match is lit, still he doesn't let her hands go. Instead he brings her hand to light the wick of the lantern and draws it back to his mouth to blow it off. The tickling of his breath on her fingers make them curl into a fist.

Amrit turns her head away and Veer lets her hand drop. He adjusts the wick himself and the room floods with the lantern's mild light. Amrit is still standing there - breathing hard, clutching a hand just below her throat.

Veer brings his face closer and mutters in her ear.

"You are awfully jumpy these days, Biwi Sahab. Aisi bhi kya chori karli jo pakde jaane se darr thi ho?"

Her eyes darts back to his and the lantern illuminates the humor in those eyes. It eases her heart, she puts it to the back of her mind to wonder why later.

"Aap se kya chori karoon?" She says and turns to move away. Veer holds her back. Amrit's pulse begins to race.

"Don't move," he says. His hand moves over her elbow to her upper arm. He steps closer. Amrit blinks up at him, gulping. "Humne tumhe jaane ki ijazat nahi di." He comes closer still and she could hear her pulse pounding in her ears.

"Why would I need your permission? Kya zaroorat hai -"

"Zaroorat hai, zaroorat hai biwi sahab," his breath fans her face and his voice drops. Lashes of Amrit's eyes flutter and shut as Veer dips his head. She clenches that hand clasped over her throat, tighter against her pulse point.

What in the name of dear sweet lord -

Veer gently bangs his forehead with hers and Amrit's eyes snap open. His grip loosens and he steps back.

"We banged our heads earlier -" he reminds her. "Ma sahab keheti hai ke it's a bad omen. Woh -"

A strangled laugh escapes her throat, the hand she had clenched loosens and so does the coil wound tightly around her heart.

Amrit throws her head back and laughs, laughs at her own stupid fears, at her obvious relief - at the hilarity of the situation.

Veer stares at her. She is unaware of the picture she makes, her face lit by the lantern light - rain drops dangling from her hair sparkling like gems. He couldn't help the stirring in his heart.

"Stay like that," he says.

"Huh?" Amrit stops laughing and looks at him. But Veer is already rummaging through the supplies table. He pulls out a leather bound sketch pade and a charcoal pencil.

"Veer aap kya -"

He looks back at her sharply and waves a warning finger.

"Hilna Matt!"

Finding what he searched for he sits down. It is then that Amrit realizes what he means to do.

"Turn a little left," he tells her. Amrit has barely began to turn when he makes a displeased sound. "Not my left - your left. Haan. Meri taraf Dekho. No, not like that - arre- itni si toh baat hai -"
He keeps the sketch pad down and comes up to her.

"Veer I don't want -" Amrit begins.

Veer places a finger on her lips.

"Shh. Zindagi ke kuch pal hote hai Amrit - woh laut kar nahi aate. Unnhe kaid karna padtha hai."

His fingers curled around her chin and he tilted her face in a certain way. Drawing those fingers across her jaw he adjusted a piece of wet hair curling at her ear and swept all her hair over one of her shoulders.

Amrit's breath hitched when the tips of his fingers brushed across her nape, or down the side of her face. Her eyes collid with his.

"Touch your throat," he says.

"Hmm?"

"Throat. The way you did earlier," he explains patiently.

There is something intimate about the way he watches her fingers brush against her pulse. Veer makes a sound of agreement from the back of his throat. A sound that makes her blood heat up.

"Stay like that," he says. "Don't move until I tell you to."

"Why are you doing this Kuwar sahab?" She asks in a small voice, feeling lost against her own racing emotions. "Kyun?"

"Kyun ke hum tumhe kaid karna chahathe hai, apne canvas par."

He goes back to his sketch pad and sits down. Amrit feels the weight of his gaze on her. She could hear the sound of her own breathe intermingling with the scratching of his pencil - could feel how his eyes trail along her form.

There was a strange- unsettling kind of intimacy in this. That look - which noticed everything - which drank her in - it felt like a touch, heavy, warm - imprinting.

They stood in opposit corners of a dimly lit room, she in a pool of light and he in the shadows but still - Amrit shuddered, she could feel the heat of his gaze. Each line of her being that he made on his paper - it felt as if he left an invicible trail across each inch of her skin. As if it wasn't his eyes but his fingers mapping her.

As if - as if - Amrit couldn't complete that thought.

And all that time, pulse pounding, blood rushing into her ears and breath hitching she keeps her eyes on him. Just as he had asked. Her eyes water yet she stares at him unblinkingly.

He has nice hands, active - slender hands. She knows the strength of those hands as well as their cruelty. She knew the same about the man who owned them as well. This Veer was the most different of them all. This Veer who took her breath away.

"You can blink you know?" She is brought out of her thoughts by his voice. "And breathe."

Amrit exhales deeply. Veer puts down his pencil, looks at her. Something in the room shifts.

"Humse shaadi karlo Amrit." He says suddenly. "Sachchi wali."

The air that she gulps burn its way down her windpipe. Her eyes water again and for the life of her Amrit cannot tear her eyes away from him.

Veer stands up. His jaw is clenched.

"Bagham sahab thinks that I have ruined you enough. She called me a monster for even thinking - thinking that, I could use your love for someone to further my own plans. That was without knowing what Ma sahab knows. It's only a matter of time before everyone else knows. Humari mazak udane mein unnhe bohut maza aata hai. If this goes out of our control - even if we want to we won't be able to control the narrative. And narrative is often unsympathetic towards the woman."

"Yahi chahathe the na aap?" Amrit asks him, accusingly. "You brought me here for this - didn't you? Kuwar sahab - do you ever do anything - anything at all, without a plan? Kitne mathlabi ho aap?"

Veer stares down at her. In the hold of their anger neither realizes how close they've come.

"Haan. Mathlabi hoon main. Hoon main mathlabi. Chhod kyun nahi deti iss mathlabi aadmi ko?"

"I did tell you - I made a promise in exchange of what you did for me. I will not leave my own half of deal in the middle."

Veer chuckles darkly.

"Listen to yourself." He says sarcastically. "Vaada kar sakthi ho. Vaada nibbha bhi sakthi ho - par iss rishte ko naam nahi de sakthi? Humare saat rehe sakthi ho - hum par bharosa kar sakthi ho - haq jata sakthi ho - par kudh pe humein koi haq nahi de sakthi?"

"Main aapse shaadi nahi karungi."

"Humare tharaf dekho!" Veer roared. "Humare tharaf dekh kar baat karo. Kyun nahi kar sakthi? Kya - irada kya hai tumara? Kudh barbaad hongi humein bhi kahi ka nahi chodongi -" he inhaled sharply.

"You have two choices Amrit. Either marry me or leave this place forever with Randheer. Because I'm not going to let Ma sahab dangle him in front of my eyes like a stinking fish for any longer. Tumhari na ki wajai woh hai na? Chale jaao usske saat - phir! Chod do Humein humari haal par."

"Nahi jaa sakthi!" Amrit snapped.

She tastes the salt on her trembling lips and realized that she is crying. This is unfair. This is cruel. Why does Veer have to do this?

"Why not?"

Amrit stares up at him suddenly at loss of words. Why ever not? If Veer was giving her the choice of leaving him - why ever not? If Randheer was there, ready to take her back - why ever not? After all how long was she going to go like this, holding to both her past and present?

Veer takes her trembling hand in his, holds it with both his hands.

That name branded upon her wrist, the root cause of all evil aches.

Amrit shudders, swallowing a sob. She has no more justifications to make. She just knows that she can't- she can't make either of those choices. Amrit ducks her head and cries silently.

"Mujhse yeh nahi honga, nahi honga mujhse," she chokes. "Don't compel me - don't- please don't-"

Veer pulls her closer, tucks her against him. He moves almost instinctively that Amrit is wrapped in him before she knows what is happening. His large hand pats her head, the other rubs her back.

"Shh," he says. "Shh. Shh."

The comfort is not something she expects. Not from Veer of all people. He smells like grass in the sun, of rain and that ink he uses.

There is something that is distinctly Veer beneath all those smells, a scent that fills her when she gulps air.

"Main aap ko chhod kar nahi jaaungi- kahi nahi jaaungi - kabhi nahi jaaungi," she mutters against him, her voice muffled. "Par mujhse aur kuch matt mangiyenga - zindagi diya hai aap ko, apne pyaar ke aazaadi ke badle. Aur kuch matt mangiyenga. Aur kuch matt mangiyenga."

The rain still patter outside and in the rim jim of its fall, they hear a voice calling.

"Kuwar sahab? Kuwar Rani sahab? Aap hai yahaan? Kuwar sahab ...?"

Amrit pushes him away and rushes out of the door into raging storm outside. Veer stumbles for a moment, but finds his balance quickly enough. Bending down he picks up the earring she had not noticed dropping on the floor in her hurry to leave.

He clasps it in his hand, yearning, even unknown to himself to clasp its owner too - in a similar manner.

**
If anyone needs translations of a dialogue in hindi highlight that part and leave an in line comment please. I will translate in the reply. The flow of the story will get disturbed if I include translations in the text itself.
I hope you guys listen to the songs I post? Please do, they set the mood of each chapter perfectly. Especially this one and the one that will proceed. :-)
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