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Trishalini POV

"I mean, why not?" this slipped through my tongue without warning. And I could not help but lower my gaze with the insane timidity and embarrassment. Out of all the things I was thinking, I ended up saying this.

Thankfully, he did not reply anything to it.

"I mean, everyone expects something from us, right?" I asked in a low voice, and he still did not say anything but kept moving his finger in my hair. The way the tips of his fingers were brushing against my head was making me forget everything. They were not too soft, neither too strong. I never thought that anyone would ever massage my head, and that, too, this level of good.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked suddenly, and I closed my eyes for a moment. He was almost done oiling my base, and I wondered if he would begin with the length now.

"Yes," I replied slowly. I felt him taking the oil bowl from my hand and shifting closer. His knees touched the side of my hips, and the moment I felt him touch his fingers against my shoulder, a slight shiver ran down my body. My body flinched assertively a little when he gently collected my scattered hair in one place. And when he moved his finger to do so, I could not help but feel the fingertip brush against my skin. It was a strange tickle. It did not make me laugh, nor did it make me feel disgusted.

It felt good.

"Not for anyone. Just tell me what you want," he asked in a very low voice, barely above a whisper.

What did I want?

I do not remember the last time someone asked me this. My lashes lowered, blankly staring at the two lone bangles in my hand while slowly shaking my head.

"For me?" I asked in a low voice.

And he hummed. "Hnn, for you,"

His hum felt like the most protective thing ever. I did not know why.

The way his finger caressed my head once and then twice, I felt my strength weakening and my eyes shutting close.

The faded thought of staying just like this with him felt overwhelming yet possible. What if I would wake up next to him and sleep beside him, too? What if he sits with me to ask what I think about things I did not even know? The way he came to discuss the soldier's and staff's leave with me, I could not help but feel important. What if what happened would happen again?  What if his fingers that were leaving mistaken touches over my nape and slightly on my shoulder would crawl down to my back all over my exposed skin? What if they would drag down my neck to my chest and then touch me somewhere he should not?

I opened my eyes with rapid blinking. What the hell was I even thinking?

My lips parted, inhaling deeply as I felt my nipples turning hard. It was not so cold yet. My brows knit slightly with confusion.

"Tell me," he muttered again, and I closed my eyes. I did not know about it. And, what I knew, I was frightened that it would never come to the tip of my tongue.

"I do not know," I managed to say, feeling him slowly pouring the oil over my head. My lashes felt heavy and stayed open as the soothing trail of the warm oil ran down the curve of my head. When it reached behind my ear, my eyes opened.

And, before I could say anything, I felt it turning colder and trailing down to my shoulder blades.

"Oh, shit," he muttered and quickly placed his palm around my neck to stop it.

"I am sorry," he muttered and gently brushed it away. My heartbeats raced as his fingers mistakenly brushed against my neck and jaw. He had broad hands.

"That's okay," I replied, and I could sense that it had made him awkward, too.

But he did not say anything and simply brushed his hand against my hair. His fingers rubbed again and slowly began to feed my hair.

"There must be something that you wished for from a marriage?" he asked slowly, and a slight smile appeared on my lips. Thankfully, he could not see it.

Honestly, I never thought of marriage before my father kept the proposal before me. And, even then, I was not clear about it, but whatever I thought included working together, like, I would go to the fields, then cook, then milk and then get pregnant and then raise the children, and one day I would die.

But now, I could not go to the fields, cook, or milk the cows, and speaking of pregnancy, it seemed next to impossible. Honestly, I have a great love for children. They are wonderful.

And, when Shantanu said that he would not be around much after the wedding, I made up my mind that I would be content raising my children. Strangely, the thought of them fancied me.

But never in my dreams did I think that I would be asked to marry only for a child. It hit me somewhere. It felt like I was meant for the child alone. There must be some difference between a cow and me. And it hurt me.

For the first time, I felt wrong about myself. I did not feel okay with it, and till now, the remains of that wound were intact in my hard. Though, it was healing now.

And, at this moment, I could not help but feel the care he was pouring over me.

"This," I managed to reply.

"What?" he asked, and I felt his fingers tightly collect my hair at my nape with his one hand so that he could apply the oil to my length with the other. His hold made me arch my head a little back. My neck stretched, and my gaze almost met his.

"This," I muttered again. "The way you are caring about me," I tried to say, but my voice came out slightly shaky.

His hand immediately froze.

His eyes silently looked into mine, and he blinked while muttering. "I care about you,"

"Abhi, if your father had not asked you for a grandchild, what reason would you have given to marry me?" I asked in a slow voice, and he stared deeply into my eyes.

The way his gaze turned intense and dark, I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine. My breaths turned uneven as he gently tightened his fist and arched my neck backwards a little more. An inaudible wince escaped my lips. My lashes felt too heavy to stay open.

And, to make me feel even more lost, lost and lost, he placed his hand on my jaw, and his thumb caressed the edge of my lip.

My breathing stopped when he leaned his head over mine and gulped before bringing his lips closer to mine.

I sat immobile.

"That you seduced me," he muttered, and I gulped when he touched his lips with mine. My eyes shut closed for a moment. But he pulled back within a moment. The mere touch sent thousands of shivers into my body.

"You know it's a lie," I managed to reply, and my fingers fisted on my skirt. My neck hurt a little, and my lips quivered.

"I would have kidnapped you," he breathed over my lips, and I bit the inside of my lip as he pecked my upper lip with a feathery touch and utmost softness.

"I would hate you even more and never agree to it," I replied in a whisper, and he inhaled a deep breath.

His thumb caressed my jaw a little before he parted his lips, and then I felt something that I had never felt in my whole life.

"I would have begged you," he whispered slowly, and my heartbeat stopped. His breathing was the only thing that I heard, his hold was the only thing that I felt, and in that moment, I could not help but feel how he placed his parted lips over mine and sucked me for once.

I slowly pulled back. My chest raised up and down with the effect. I would die.

My eyes opened to look into his. He stared at me with confusion, and my brows knit. What was he doing?

"I would have... said that I..." he inhaled deeply, bringing his lips closer to mine again. My hand raised to touch his cheek out of effect, and he breathed. "I love you,"

My eyes widened with shock hearing him. For a moment, I wondered if I listened to the right thing, but before I could react, he placed his lips over mine again, and this time, he caged my lower between his and pulled it slowly. I inhaled sharply as he sucked it for once, and then my breaths stopped, and I visibly shivered when he sucked it for the second time. I could feel myself losing my senses. My body turned weak, my fingers dropped down from his cheek, and my head touched his chest.

I lost it.

He gently moved his hand down my cheek and lost his hold on my hair to turn my head towards him. I felt weightless, and my body moved a little along.

"I have liked you since the day I saw you first," he whispered in my mouth and tilted his face a little and sucked on both of my lips.

A lone tear rolled down my cheek, expressing nervousness, weakness, newness, fear, and a thousand other emotions I could not count.

"Abhi," I managed to whisper, and he pulled back a little.

And, as soon as he looked up at my face, he shook his head. "I am sorry, I am so sorry," his words brought me out of the dream I just lived.

"I did not mean to. I am sorry," he muttered, and I shook my head, sitting confused.

I immediately looked away and pulled my knees closer to my chest. He kissed me.

My fingers touched my lips. I could taste the cinnamon he ate after dinner. My eyes shut closed, and I felt him hugging me tightly all of a sudden from behind. "I am sorry, Trisha. I am so sorry," he whispered, "I did not mean to. It just happened," he muttered, and I could sense the fear and tension in his voice.

I tried to shake my head. I wanted to say that it was okay, but it did not feel okay.

And I did not know in what way I meant it.

"Say something," he muttered. I opened my eyes and tried to look into them. His eyes had turned red, and I saw his lips wet and a brighter shade of maroon.

"Braid my hair?" I asked.

"Hn?" he hummed, and I looked away. What the hell was I even speaking?

"Oh, yes, yes, yes," he immediately straightened up, and I closed my eyes with embarrassment.

He was four years younger than me. And I let him do that to me. How? Why?

"You said, 'You love me?'" I immediately turned to look at him. His face looked scared, and he shook his head slowly.

He cleared his throat. "Did I?" he asked, and I nodded.

"Yes," I muttered, and he shook his head.

"When?" he asked, and I could not believe it.

"I only meant that I know, I mean, you must be thinking that I am pervert an... and have bad intensions for you. I promise I do not; I mean, I did not," he blabbered and suddenly pressed his forehead against the back of my head while inhaling a deep breath.

"I know you hate me. Forget it, forget whatever I said," he said all of a sudden. "We are okay, right?" he asked, and I could not say anything.

"Yes," I muttered to make myself feel better. I was okay. I was alive. I did no die.

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