Rusvaai

Summary: "Isse pehele zindagi nikal jaaye, jeena seekh lijiye Kuwar sahab."

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Amrit wonders how Veer faces this woman on a daily basis, knowing as he did, of the cruelty she hides behind her coldness.

She finds herself pausing every time she has to cross paths with Rani Ma. She finds herself consumed by a chill. She finds her eyes always drawn to those hands, hands that were very close to drawing blood of her only remaining kin.

Now those hands hold a pooja taali, and those cold eyes watch over the priests making arrangements.

Amrit is convinced Veer would not sit for this, no matter how many traditions dictated otherwise. He wasn't even there. He hadn't been in his room either, when she crossed it a while back.

But Amrit did not have such privileges, if Rani ma demands her presence she has to go.
The older woman turns her eyes on Amrit, her jaw tightens reflexively. Amrit wonders for a moment what Veer had told her, that Rani ma was behaving in such a restrained manner.

Knowing her husband as she did, he might have said scathing things while Amrit was unconscious. Her prickly gaze sweeps over Amrit and stops.

"Where is your nose ring?" She asks rather coldly. "Do you not know, that married women of rajparivaar don't sit for pujas for their husbands' wellbeing without wearing a nath? Or do you not consider yourself married enough to wear it?"  Her lips turn mockingly upwards.

Amrit thinks back quickly. The jewellery was sent to her, there wasn't a nose ring there. And she did not come from these traditions to know which pooja required wearing of a nath and which did not.

"Go, wear it and get back here!" Rani ma says rather irritatedly. "Veer toh waise bhi nahi aayenga. Bhagvaan se dushmani jo hai usske. Jaao jaao!"

Amrit holds her sigh as she turns to climb the stairs.

This woman wouldn't stop uttering barbs about their marital status, or her doubts regarding them.

And she stops - Randheer is watching her from the top of the stairs, already dressed in traditional clothing for the puja.

He makes a gesture that indicates he wishes to talk to her. Amrit shakes her head at him and makes her way back to her room, wondering if her jewellery contained a nath or not.

The sound of something falling on the ground makes her stop at the threshold. She had opened the door to Veer's room rather carelessly, wanting to get inside and shut it before Randheer catches up to her. But now she finds herself frozen like that.

Veer is inside.

He is in front of the mirror, holding his shirt bunched up and applying medicine to a cut on his lower back. There are fresh bandages on the dressing table and old ones that he might have removed on the floor. They are bloodied.

Amrit draws in a tortured breath when she is reminded of the flickering pain that crossed his expression the other day. So that man with his knife has managed to get him after all.

That gash, with its horrible redness, looks bad. All this while, he had looked after her, waited upon her and he had been carrying that wound? Did this man have no care for his own self?

Veer looks up and catches her eye in the mirror. He freezes and lets the shirt drop, hiding as he always had been the wound on his person.

"Arre biwi sahab you came back? Don't tell me Ma sahab changed her mind about having the puja after all."

Amrit shuts the door with a snap, not taking her eyes off him.

"How long have you been treating yourself Kuwar sahab?"

"Uh what? This - it's nothing big. Doctor said I could change the dressing myself now. It's already healing - woh, kya kar rahi ho -?"
He asks when she comes up to him and takes the container of ointment off his hand.

"I will do it," she says rather stiffly. "Shirt uttariye."

"Amrit..."

She met his gaze calmly, anger fueling her courage. How could he do this to himself?

"Main aapse Pooch nahi rahi hoon. Bata rahi hoon aapko. Shirt uttariye Kuwar sahab."

Veer gulps, but starts to undo his buttons slowly. Amrit isn't done yet.

"Had Rani Ma not wanted me to go back and wear a nose ring, I wouldn't have found out. You would have decided all by yourself and went on mistreating your injury. Patni hoon aapki, I have a right to know. What a failure would I be if -" she stops with a hiss of an inhale drawn through her teeth when she sees that wound.

Veer grits his teeth and looks away, not meeting her expression in the mirror.

Amrit's throat tightens into a knot and her eyes begin to burn. Her hand trembles when she brings it forward.

Muscles of Veer's back flex when her palm touches his skin, beneath all heat and bronze skin, they wind tight with tension. He exhales through his teeth.

His back is a canvas of ridged lines, puckered skin closed over old scars. Some of them had fainted into mere shadows of different color lines, some lighter some darker - and other deeper marks remain, reminders of a deeper pain - like obscene letters spelling out doom.

Was it his mother? Was it France and the war he escaped? Was it Veer himself?

"Amrit," he says after a moment.

Looking up she catches his eye in the mirror, and realizes that there are trails of tears running down her face.

"They are old scars. Very old. Hum bhool chuke, tum bhi bhool jaao."

Amrit drags a finger along one of those jarred lines and his muscles tense again, she could hear the restrained inhale he pulls in.

She puts the ointment slowly, with such gentleness that Veer thinks the touch would destroy him. He hasn't been touched like that ever in his memory. He swallows, trying to clear his head, trying to rein in his heart. Amrit had no idea what she was doing to him with her tenderness. Amrit had no idea how close he was to snapping and crossing that line drawn between them - that invisible chaar kadam which never goes away.

Amrit doesn't know the torment she causes, as she tends to his wound, dressing it with softest of touches.

He barely hears her words.

"We don't forget scars Kuwar sahab, we get used to living with them. Dardh kabhi mittha nahi usski aadat lag jaati hai. Phir aadat zaaroorat ban jaati hai aur hum dardh ko hi dundhne lagthe hai. Aap ko bhi dardh ki Aadat hogayi hai. Aap dardh iss liye chupa the hain ke koi aap ko iss dardh se door na kar de. Ke koi aap ko aazaad na kar de. Kyun ke dardh ke alawa aap kuch nahi jaante. Dardh ke bina jeena aap nahi jaante."

She moves away, and he is aware of each step she takes away from him. Amrit pauses at the threshold to her room and looks back at him.

"Isse pehele zindagi nikal jaaye, jeena seekh lijiye Kuwar sahab."

"Amrit," he calls to her softly. There is a odd pounding in his heart, a deep yearning he could no longer resist.

Amrit looks at him. He searches for something on his table and picks it up with two fingers. It is a nath, pearl embellished and ornate gold like the rest of her jewellery.

"You are looking for this," he tells her. "Yahaan par ghira hua tha, I found it when I came in. Whoever brought your jewellery in might have dropped it while crossing this room."

Amrit comes back, reaching out a hand to take it. Veer holds it back.

"Hum pehena dein?"

Her eyes widens a little, darting between him and the nath. Veer stays completely still, making a resolve to himself that this will be her choice - a choice she has to make, to cross those Chaar kadam or not, for if she comes to him now - he will not be letting her go.

After a moment that feels like an eon to him, slowly she nods once and turns towards the mirror, waiting for him to put it on.

It's a peculiar thing to do, when the ring will go to her nose. She could have easily faced him instead. But Amrit stares at him in the mirror instead, he could see how her pulse jump at the base of her throat - how she is as tightly wound in tension as he is.

Veer caresses her wrist with his fingers, and drags them upwards to rest on her shoulder. The tension beneath his palm makes his breathe catch.

"Don't move," he mutters in her ear and brings his face over, as his hands bring the ring to her nose.

His cheek pressed with hers, so that he could judge the placement of nath with her eye level Veer puts it on her nose. The pearls chime against one another when he lets it go, and brings back the chain where it should go into her losesly braided hair.

Her scent of jasmine and sandalwood is heady, strong and distracting and her skin pressed upon his is soft.

Veer drags in a tortured breath and turns his face sideways, giving into that temptation, nuzzling along her jaw and throat.

Amrit shudders, goosebumps breaking across her skin. So sensitive, so innocent - that a mere brush of skin on skin had her trembling.

Veer bows and presses his lips to the place where her shoulder met her neck, the soft skin reddens instantly and Amrit draws in a hiss.

Something inside him snaps.

He turns her around, hands caressing her shoulders - eyes darkening all the more he drinks her in.

Her eyes are closed, her fists are clenched. He draws his hands from her shoulders, caressing along her throat and reaching to cup her jaw.

She sighs and her lips part. It feels too good to be true, too good to be real - that she is so accepting of him, that she is so willing - and all the more enthralling because of it.

He would never let her go, he vows to himself, never.

Amrit's eyes snap open when she feels his breath on her face, warmer , closer - threateningly close.

For a moment all she could see is his eyes, darker than she had ever seen them and all the more enticing - all the more inviting.

There is but a breath between them, that too intoxicated by the combination of his scent and hers.

A moment too late that thrall would have consumed her. A moment too late she'd not have stopped him. But it was never a moment too late.

Amrit turns her head away, and pushes at him with a gentle palm.

For the life of him, Veer inhales deeply and pulls back, instead taking that hand in his and drawing it to his mouth. He kisses her palm instead and a hushed gasp leaves her.

"Nahi." Amrit says, her head still turned away.

She draws back her hand as if he had branded her and cradles it against her chest. She makes a violent move to leave, making a sound that suspiciously sounded like a sob from the back of her throat. "Yeh galath hai. Yeh -"

Veer simply braces the heel of his hand on the dressing table, effectively caging her with his arm. She breaks off mid sentence and her eyes flicker to his. They are blurry with tears.

"Galath hai." She mouths, her voice gone in the pounding of her heart.

"Kuch galath nahi hai," he mutters against her ear, close enough for another kiss. Amrit pushes him again, this time violently.

"Aap mujhe majboor nahi kar sakthe!"

All the anger she feels at her own breaking resolve she vents upon him.

The fury so bitter that it consumes her at her helplessness, at what feels like a surrender to some sinful part of her - she pours it all over him.

"Meri saath iss tarah ke zabbardasti-"

Veer's expression changes as if she had slapped him - for a moment he looks so murderous that Amrit fears he might strike her.

"Kya kaha tum ne?" When he speaks his voice is so calm that she gulps for air, looking at him fearfully. "Humne poocha, kya kaha tum ne?"

"Veer - yeh,"

He steps back, leaves her shuddering there by herself - all flustered and weak and confused.

"Get out." He doesn't even raise his voice, but it hurts more than a slap.

Amrit gathers herself slowly, and holds her trembling hands clasped together. She doesn't look at him.

"Go Amrit," he says softly now. "Magar itna jaan lo, aaj agar tum mukhar gayi na - na yeh pal tumhari intezaar karenga na hum."

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Are chappals coming my way? *ducks*  now is a good time to listen to the song btw...😉
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