Creating A BDSM History! Ch. 05

Aarav's P.O.V~

"You wish to recall what happened? Hold this. This might benefit you." Her grin and peculiar words still tweak my heart along with the skittish path.

The stallion neighs with the noises of its feet accompanying Aadhya's carriage advancing toward me.

The wooden sides are defending me from any abuse, but is it saving me from my mind? I still speculate about what took place that night. I'm puzzled like never.

The smooth chunni (a velvety lengthy portion of the cloth, worn around Indian suits or dresses.) does chime a flicker of consciousness from that night, but nothing is distinct.

All I recall is her prevailing hands, words, and lips. The flash image of her kissing my neck keeps on playing in my mind when swiftly the stallions stop.

"We're here!" The carriage rider reports, yielding as I walk out from the carriage.

We were sitting in separate carriages because we were still simply bothered by each other. I remain outside her carriage to help her out when she debuts. She represents such a ghastly smile.

"Why are you grinning like that?" I inquire under my breath, stepping as she holds my arm. "Did you figure it out?" I shouldn't have asked.

I see my cousins standing along with my uncle and aunt. They beam at me with pure delight but worried at Aadhya.

"They look worried." She boosts, sounds like an affront, but hugs them with honor. How is her memory so sound? I just informed her who's who? I can not believe that her remembrance is washed off.

They all embrace us, offering us every sweet possible. From Jalebi to Barfi. Aadhya agrees to eat one or two as we both sit closely in a hall as big as a playground, adorned as a bride itself with the fragrance of a thousand flowers.

My aunty ogles at us, buzzing to me how beautiful my to-be bride is. Only if they were aware of her true character.

After a hundred mockeries of my cousins, we take off for our chambers. But why does Prashant stand afar, gawking at both of us, but chiefly her?

She still maintains the same smile as we walk to our chambers, adding, "I respect you for fabricating your affection for me. It's an excellent trick to show how powerful we are." How does she?

I never foresaw her understanding of this strategy. "It's necessary to establish the upper hand in front of everyone so they will not take you for granted. It's good that you withheld our vulnerability." I scowl at her with sheer confusion as she further adds, right before going inside her chamber.

"And figure it out. What happened that night? I can't stand you asking me the same question again and again. Notably, with that failed face." She even knows about my defeat in this.

Aadhya's P.O.V~

Thank God! We're allowed separate chambers, or I would've assassinated him or myself. But why are our chambers next to each other?

Anyhow, it's a marvelous bedroom, unlike the one in his mansion. The window with the secured sitting steps beside my bed is so consoling. An excellent spot to gawk at the world outside, to feel the sunny breeze when my mind's dazed, and a suitable place where I'd love to read for hours.

The chairs and the art on the wall are precisely as I imagined them to be in the old era. "I assume the chamber is to your liking." One of his cousins, Haina, stands outside the chamber, expecting for me to accept her.

"I overheard you are an admirer of books and nature, so I assigned this chamber to you."

I beam with courtesy, "where did you get that information from?" I embrace her as she sits beside me, where the window is. "I expect you already know." She teases me with her shoulder, nudging me. I don't know who's she talking about.

"It's nice, finally meeting you. You are far more beautiful than all the descriptions expressed by your admirers." I chuckle as her compliments go on with minor details about her life and scandal about others.

I realize how painfully I wanted a family back in my real life. I never realized what being a part of a family felt like. She renders a sisterhood, a sister I always wanted. I can listen to her talk for hours and hours on the pile, but she gets up to leave me.

"I sincerely think you'll like this evening. Since you are a literature person." She briefed me about the mushaira about to take place. A gathering where everyone reads Urdu poetry to win, but I don't assume there will be a game. It's a family gathering, after all.

I knocked at his door, but he didn't respond. Now I'll have to barge in. I'm not sorry tho. "What are you doing?" He baffles with his eyes wide open, the same chunni around his hands. He behaved like he's seen a ghost.

"No, what are you doing?" I walk with curiosity to him, covering my smirk as he hides the chunni as well. "No! You can't hide that away from me now." His face beams up with redness, as he stands right in front of the large mirror.

He retreats, kicking his back against the mirror as I saunter closer. The fabric was sloppy, not tied correctly around his wrists, presumably because he was doing it to himself. "This is not how it's done." I reach further, almost knocking his head with mine.

As I draw the fabric to tie his wrists, he jitters. His eyes want to wander off but still waver on me. His words have swollen inside his mouth, and he watches me kiss his hands with a burning passion.

Aarav's P.O.V~

I was trying to recall by tying my hands when she barged in. I didn't want to be caught like that.

I don't perceive what just developed between us. Her response, her eyes, and everything around me altered as soon as her presence got closer to me.

Thank God! She dismissed her actions.

We step awkwardly to the hall, where everyone is sitting. Mirth and the aroma of feasts are so tempting from even this afar.

I don't dare to pick up the conversation, and unexpectedly she breaks my dilemma. "So you think you can win?" She speaks like usual as if nothing transpired between us and I follow the same method.

"I will! You don't realize how great I am." Her reception was predictable, the same crunching eyes with the eccentric face. "I don't feel there will be any competition to win."

"Oh, then you know nothing. They are extremely cutthroat." With my snickers around the hallway, we reach the hall and her mouth opens up in shock. As predicted.

"See, I told you." Everyone chants, welcome. Families on families sit across from each other on mattresses set on the ground, with food, alcohol, and whatnot. The gloomy oil lamps light up the immense hall as some are sitting on the small Takht set across from each other.

The females sit on one side and the men remain on another, addressing respect. I'm somewhat proud now.

Laughter and chit-chatting become stronger as she joins the women and me, the men. They all welcome us and honor us for being there. I offer her a glimpse as we both adjust to Takht. See? This is what I was talking about.

The night is progressing effortlessly, with alcohol, dry fruits, and heaps of food. She is chuckling like a blooming flower. It's fairly similar to that night. The jokes she's carrying out, and how she reverts to the poem I recite, are so foreign.

The communication between our eyes is severed by one of my cousins, Prashant, rising to interpret the poem he wrote.

Your glee is a -- marigold, pinched -- behind -- your ear is a jolt.

You -- sing -- like a songbird at dawn, encouraging me -- wake -- from my frown.

You don't recognize my heart, and I -- can't-- can not recognize you.

You're buried by your -- burden, and I'm by my virtue.

Your eyes don't -- master -- mine, I -- smile -- at you.

Why are you so inarticulate? I confide in you.

Quickly, everything shifted. From my mood to her face.

Every word he utters pierces through my heart. He glances at Aadhya. It's like almost like her. She stares at him with passion but turmoil. Why passion? I marvel.

Aadhya's P.O.V~

We lead quietly to our chambers. Drunk a slight. His strides are robust, relatively reflecting his temper. But for what?

As far as I know, the night went splendidly, with everyone reciting the poem they wrote, and Prashant, his cousin, won at the end. Is that why he's angry?

"Are you okay?" I inquire as we both stand right outside our chambers. At first, he avoids my question but drives me in when I open the door to stride into my chamber. "Have you met him before?"

His eyes and voice have identical emotions. Rage. "What?" He repeats himself, grating his teeth. "I don't know! And even if I did meet him somewhere, I don't recall." I compete to clutch away my arm from his grasp.

"Leave my hand!" I growl as he shoves me into the wall. "Don't lie to me! I saw the way he looked at you. He was practically reading that poem for you!" I strive until I can't take it anymore and push him aside with a strong slap.

"Do not touch me like that ever again. Are you crazy? You know I don't remember anything!" He falls beaten on the bed, declined by my anger.

"And even if I did meet him, and he did read that poem for me. What's that to you?" I add, with a powerful and harsh humor. "Don't you hate me?"

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---Love, author! 😘