Draupadi stood amidst the cool night air, her mind a labyrinth of torment. The once-beautiful garden, now scarred by war, lay in ruins, much like her soul.

Each flowerbed, once alive with color, now wilted under the weight of grief, a mirror to her inner desolation.

The war had ripped through everything-her family, her people, her own heart. The silence of the night was filled with the echoes of battle, the cries of the dying reverberating through her memory.

Her chest tightened with every breath, a suffocating reminder of the countless lives lost, and she-she had stood by, powerless.

Hollow.

Broken.

The guilt gnawed at her, a relentless parasite that clung to her spirit, whispering that she had failed them all.

She clenched the balcony railing, the metal cold beneath her fingers.

Useless.

The word reverberated in her mind like a curse. She hadn't fought, hadn't swung a sword or led a charge. What had she done but stand on the sidelines as the men she loved bled for a cause?

Mind control was no excuse. She could have lost everything. And that mere thought burned her heart.

The wind rustled through the devastated garden, but she didn't feel it.

Her torment was too consuming, her thoughts too dark. Every breath, every second, was a reminder of her perceived failure.

The anguish inside her chest grew unbearable, threatening to crush her completely.

As if summoned by her pain, she felt the warmth of arms envelop her from behind.

Arya Nakul.

His presence was solid, grounding her in the present even as her mind spiraled into the past.

His familiar scent, a mix of sandalwood and leather, brought a brief flicker of comfort, but it was quickly overshadowed by the weight of her guilt.

His embrace, once a source of strength, now felt like a reminder of how much she had failed.

She leaned back into him with a sigh, her body exhausted by the weight of her emotions.

Nakul's arms tightened around her waist, but even his protective grip couldn't silence the storm raging inside her.

"Why aren't you asleep?" she asked quietly, trying to divert her mind from the flood of emotions.

She didn't want to worry him. This was her mess. And he had done enough. Been through enough.

Nakul's voice was warm, as always, but there was a tension in it tonight. "How can I sleep when I know you're out here, tormenting yourself?" He tightened his arms around her waist, trying to pull her closer.

In an attempt to erase the distance that was spanning between them. He knew everything about her, her pain was not any different.

Where wars and betrayals were a norm in his life. It wasn't hers.

He knew that. He caressed her waist, kissing the back of her head. He didn't know how to fix this, but he was determined to do so.

She gave a small, hollow smile. It never reached her eyes, while she gazed over at the desolated remains of the garden.

"You're thinking too much Arya. I am fine."

Nakul shook his head, a sigh passing through his lips. He didn't know what to say.

Or maybe he did, but he didn't trust himself enough to say it.

"You've been doing this for days, Drau," his voice was firm, but the underlying concern didn't go unnoticed. "You keep punishing yourself for something that wasn't your fault."

She stiffened in his arms, her fingers gripping the railing. The burning in his throat intensified, the veil that she had pulled over her emotions threatened to fall back.

Her eyes stung, the vision ahead blurred.

"Not my fault?" she whispered, her voice trembling with frustration. The flashes of memories tore through her mind, slapping her wind evidences of her failure.

She could still feel the invisible shackles that held her will imprisoned, molding her against her wishes at his vile commands.

That phantom feeling sent a wave of terror saturating her soul to her last fiber.

"How can you say that?" She whispered, her voice thick with emotions, once that she struggled to suppress, and yet they tore her the same.

He sighed, his breath warm against her ear. "Because it's true. You weren't holding the sword, but you carried us through this war in ways none of us could."

His words knocked her breath out, it was the sincerity in his words, that broke her.

He really believed that? She wanted to shake him hard, wake him to reality,so he could see just how much of a failure she was.

"Carried you?" Her voice rose in disbelief as she turned sharply to face him, pushing him back slightly. "I watched people die, arya. I watched them die, those innocent soldiers and I did nothing." Her eyes burned with unshed tears. "I was useless."

Each soul was an unseen weight on her chest, that burdened her enough that she could no longer breath.

Nakul's expression darkened. "Don't say that," he warned, his tone harsher than before.

He hated this, hated seeing her tear herself down like this. She didn't deserve this.

His protectiveness for her hand increased ten folds since that cursed night. He could no longer tolerate anything negative against her.

Even a word.

The reminder of that night, sparked a lethal flame in his chest.

Fury shimmering under his skin, rising like a tsunami that threatened to swarm the world, to wash away everything that anybody held dear.

He leashed in the rage, his hands fisting.

"Why not? It's the truth." Her voice cracked as she took a step back, glaring up at him.

He didn't understand. Did he?

The feeling of worthlessness that taunted her day in and out because, she had just been too weak.

She had been the reason this whole mess began. If only she was not so easily manipulated things would have been different.

She should have remembered who she was, they had been there and she couldn't even recognise them.

Even her memory had failed her.

How can she let herself be the partner of such great men?

"I was supposed to protect my family, and instead, I stood there while our people were slaughtered. I should have done more. I should have been..."

Her voice broke, it felt like her chest was on fire, her throat closed up, tears tracing down her cheeks.

"I should have died instead."

Her words were softest, fragile like the night was.

A whisper of her broken soul, that hardly knew how to go on.

At that, Nakul's face twisted in anger, his jaw clenched. Fury.

Dark and vengeful rose high like a wall of fire.

It was like someone had struck a spark in a barn full of RDX.

It blasted.

Denoted with such a huge wave of flames that sent ripples of warth pumping down his veins.

Poisonous and Cruel.

"Don't you dare say that again." His voice was low, dangerous, a warning.

One that she didn't heed. Or didn't understand.

Did he care? Not in this lifetime, not another ten.

Had she been anyone else he would have torn them with his own two bare hands. Till their blood painted his body.

He breathed heavily. The memories of that night tearing down the walls in his mind.

"Why shouldn't I?" she shot back, her own fury rising. The storm of grief circled like a tornado in her chest, heaving in her soul, feeling her heart with the insane urge to rip the world in half.

Why did it happen to her?

Why did she have to be this useless?

Why?! Why?! Whyyy?!!

She mentally screamed. Frustrated and Furious.

"Do you think I don't know how worthless I was?" She gritted her teeth, looking up at the man she loved more than her next breath.

She wanted him to see just how disgusting she was, just the way she saw herself.

Just how much she hated herself, she wanted him to hate her too.

She wasn't worth it.

And he needed to understand.

Frustration bubbled in her soul, because he or others couldn't see it. Why?!

She wanted to scream.

"Do you think I haven't replayed every moment in my mind, and reflected on my own actions?" Her voice was low, dangerous like a whisper of warning in a dark forest.

Those heeded were protected, those who didn't...died.

She wanted him to heed this warning.

To hate her.

But he glared down at her menacingly, the side that usually was stored for his enemies rose towards his wife.

Who would have thought that Nakul Kuruvanshi would want to kill somebody today.

He stepped closer, his fists clenching at his sides. He itched to shake her hard enough to wake her up to her damn reality.

"You think you're worthless because you didn't pick up a sword?" Words that weren't shouted, yet held an edge sharper than a sword, cut through the air, amplifying the tension between them.

"Aren't I?" She let out a bitter laugh.

Mocking and hollow.

"All those families are mourning their loved ones today, Arya. And who is responsible?"

Hatred, so dark and thick, that its acidic smell almost choked the air, lined her words, directing the poison towards herself.

"I should have died instead of them. . ." The words were softest, a hollow prayer that seemed to have gone unanswered by every god.

And she mourned it.

And that was it.

The fine thread that held his patience snapped back.

His face turned red with wrath as he closed the distance between them in an instant.

"Do you think for one second that I would let you die?" He seethed, his hand wrapping around the back of her neck as he pulled her closer, their harsh breaths mingled with each other, while their eyes clashed like two swords locked in a lethal duel.

She glared up at him, her own anger matching his. "Maybe it would have been easier for you! Maybe-"

"No!" He shouted, grabbing her shoulders roughly, pulling her so close their faces were inches apart. "I can't stand to hear you say these things! Don't you understand? I would have lost everything if you'd died. Don't you get it?"

He growled like an animal, fury wrecking every last thing that was good in him, his hands itched to kill somebody.

To destroy.

He wanted to pummel someone to death.

Didn't she understand?

Emotions roiled in his chest, anger, hurt mixing with frustration.

Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, her eyes shining tears. "I don't get it, Arya! I don't get how you can stand there and act like everything's fine when it's not! How are you not disgusted with me? " She shoved him away, her hands trembling as she did. "I failed everyone!"

Nakul's fury only grew, his hands tightening into fists as he stepped toward her again. "You didn't fail anyone, Draupadi! Stop saying that!" His voice cracked like a whip through the night, and his grip on her shoulders tightened, shaking her slightly. "Stop pushing me away."

She shoved at his chest again, her anger flaring. "Then stop pretending like I'm not a filthy disgusting person-"

"Shut your damn mouth Draupadi, or I'll do it for you." he roared, gripping her tightly.

Her chest heaved as she stared up at him, her emotions swirling in a maelstrom of anger, guilt, and sorrow. She opened her mouth to argue, to throw more words at him, but before she could speak, Nakul's lips crashed down on hers.

It wasn't a gentle kiss.

It was raw, fierce, filled with all the rage, love, and desperation he had kept locked away.

He bite her bottom lip hard, almost punishing. Before he sweeped his tongue in her mouth. His lips moved against hers with an intensity that reflected his love and fury.

And it was exactly what she wanted.

Not something soft and fragile.

But something that was real and raw.

She didn't want his delicate words, telling her she didn't do it, when deep in her soul she knew what had happened.

His hands slid up her arms, gripping her shoulders in a possessive manner, he kissed her with a passion that left her breathless.

It was as though he wanted to both punish her and claim her in the same breath, to remind her that she was alive, that they both were.

That what they had between them was way greater than any Druveda, Ayushman, or any other bastard out there could even threaten.

Draupadi froze for a moment, shocked by the intensity of the kiss, but then something snapped inside her.

Her own fury, her own pain, rose to meet his. Like a flame that set another ablaze, she met his kiss with a ferocity of her own.

She kissed him back just as fiercely, her hands gripping the front of his angvastra as she pulled him closer, pouring every ounce of her frustration, her guilt, and her love into the kiss.

She tugged hard on his angvastra letting it fall, like the world had fallen away for them.

Right now it was just the two of them.

Her tongue fought with his in a tantalizing dance of passion and fury, of something that was deeper than anything either had felt before. She kissed him with her anger, and love towards him.

He lips moved against hers with a grace of a pather and just as deadly intent, he wanted to possess her. He needed to.

He wanted to consume her soul, her grief, the darkness in her, that was festering like an open wound, he wrecked through all that with his all too demanding kiss.

He wanted to possess every last of her fiber.

Nakul groaned into her mouth, his grip on her tightening as he pressed her back against the railing.

Pleasure zinged with the embers of wrath. The lovers met like two metros clashing. Bright. Beautyful. Destructive.

His lips moved hungrily against hers, pushing his tongue in her mouth, his tongue fighting with hers.

She let herself get destroyed by him, a lone tear traced down the corner of her eyes, as his hand traveled to her neck, his fingers tightening there, not enough to hurt her but enough to mark his claim.

His other hand slid down to her waist, pulling her flush against him. It was desperate, almost primal, as if he was afraid she might slip away from him if he didn't hold on tight enough.

Her lungs burned for air, as she refused to let him dominate the kiss, but he did.

She broke away the kiss breathing hard, as her body thrummed with desire, a moan slipped past her lips, as his traveled down her jaw, biting and sucking her skin, goosebumps scattered down her body, as it came alive under his touch.

She trembled in his arms, her legs were jelly. Toes tingling with pleasure. The feeling was heady and intoxicating, addictive like a drug.

"Arya..." Her voice was threadbare, as her fingers tightened on his back.

"You will never speak about yourself like that." He whispered harshly around the skin of her nape as he sucked and bit it, not enough to hurt but enough to leave a mark behind, making her moan.

Her body heated, his warmth burned her.

Pleasure swarmed through her body like a thousand butterflies that set her aflame from within.

His grip on her tightened, possesive and protective. There was an edge to him today, like any semblance of civilization that he possessed, he had shed it somewhere.

Leaving behind nothing but a primal male in love, who wanted his woman to be cared and claimed.

It was that simple for him.

She was his.

To hell with anybody who thought otherwise.

As he kissed her neck and up to her jaw, moans tore through her lips. Her fingers tightening on his shoulder, as his hands mapped every curve of her body, tracing it with a tenderness that was a sharp contrast of his kiss.

It was tender and almost like he was... worshipping.

He wrapped his hands around her back, pulling her flush against him.

His eyes locked at hers for a moment, his warm breath caressing her lips.

Tension zinged in the air. Instead of anger it was their need that flamed the two.

Her fingers dug into his arms, her nails biting into his skin.

He leaned forward wrapping her lips in a kiss, her eyes fell shut, as she lost herself on her husband again. She kissed him harder, matching his intensity.

They were both consumed by their emotions, by the anger that had ignited between them, by the overwhelming need to feel something other than the pain they had been drowning in for so long.

He pulled back, his pupils were dilated, his hair messed from where she had run her fingers.

He looked every bit like the god of beauty, who had descended on earth. But those dark orbs still had the intensity that threatened to drown her.

He held her chin between his thumb and forefinger, making her look at him.

"You're mine." His deep claiming words had her shivering, as he whispered the words against her lips.

She could almost taste his possessiveness in them. Her thumped hard, jolting with a need.

His ever penetrating dark orbs gazed at her, while he continued to whisper.

"And nobody-alive or dead-will ever be able to take you from me. Not even you Draupadi." His words held an intensity that marked her soul with his claim.

Making her heart throb rapidly in her chest.

When she just gazed at him speechless, hie grip tightened on her body.

Her eyes were a little swollen from all the crying, they had a hue of scarlet around them, her pouty lips were a deeper shade of the same colour from his kiss.

Her cheeks were flushed crimson, and tears lined those beautiful dark eyes that held golden embers. Her skin glistened under the twilight.

Love bites peppered the length of her neck, he traced each one of them with his eyes, and the intensity of his orbs had her shivering.

She looked perfect, she looked his.

He cupped her cheeks between his hands, his thumbs caressing her soft skin, that storm in his chest was now calm.

He wanted to say a zillion things, but nothing was enough. His eyes held hers, he couldn't word these emotions, and the words would probably never be enough.

So he decided to show her. With his actions and his eyes.

She'll understand.

She had to.

He wrapped his hand around her waist and under her knees, picking her up bridal style, effortlessly.

He walked into her room, laying her down on her bed with so much care like she was the most precious thing to him in this world.

He caressed her cheek with his thumb, as he lowered himself on her, his legs bracketing hers, while his hands rested on either side of hers, before he captured her lips with his again, and this time, the kiss was tender like their love.

His fingers tangled in her hair, as he kissed her like there was no tomorrow. Like she was his oxygen and that he needed to survive.

He kissed her like they had all the time in the world and she kissed him back, with an intensity that she carved him with. Like he was the heart outside her body, that dictated her life.

They weren't perfect, not by a long shot. They both knew that. But who needed perfect when they had love, that was this crazy, consuming and life altering. That threated to kill and preserve all at once.

His lips touched hers but caressed her soul, he reached somewhere deep in her, that broken shattered part, where she bled.

With each movement of his lips, each unsaid confession of his soul, he mended that broken, shattered soul.

He held her like she held his heart. With care and a protective ferocity that threatened to destroy anything and everything that dared mess with them.

"You're worth more than anything in this world." His kiss said. Not his words but his actions.

A lone tear traced down the corner of her eyes, breaking the kiss, she sobbed her heart out, he held her, running his fingers through her hair.

Letting her cry, she sobbed the pain, the loss, the ache that buzzed in her chest. And he kissed her neck, caressed her back.

He held her, tight and hard against him, as he lay on his back, he pulled her on top of him. His back resting against the headboard of the bed, as she sat in his lap.

"I won't promise that it's going to heal in a day. But I'll be there at every step of it wifey. Today and till the rest of our lives." He whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

She sobbed, his words cracking something deep within her. He embraced her hard, letting her hide her face in his neck, while her arms tightened around his neck, hugging him like he was her everything.

He held her. Not letting her go once. She cried for the longest. And each tear shattered something deeper in him, but this moment also weaved them closer.

He ran his fingers through her hair, kissing her forehead every once in awhile. He held her, while her cries turned to sniffled, then silent tears, before she calmed down.

She looked up at him, her face was a mask of vulnerability that sent a shot of agony through his heart, but he smiled caressing her cheek, moving a curl behind her ear.

The moment was fragile he didn't dare break with words. He just held her, his fingers lacing with hers, the rough skin of his thumb caressed on her smooth soft skin.

She leaned up tracing her lips with his, and he responded just as quickly to her wish, kissing her with everything he had.

He laid her on her back, as he rested his hand over her head, keeping his weight off her, his other hand caressed her cheeks, while he kissed her.

"I love you." She whispered against his lips.

He bit her bottom lip, "Not more than me, and don't you ever forget that." His intense possesive voice stirred her heart.

In that moment as he gazed at his wife, he reflected on the intensity of their love. And maybe that's why the colour of love, fury and passion is crimson. . .

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