Mehndi

Chapter 16:

Mahika's POV

"Kuch cheezen ansuni hi behtar hain, Mahi." Yeah, that's what he said when I asked him what had happened in the past 7 years.

I wasn't fine seeing him embrace the things he once hated. No, not just hated, those things that he was arrantly disgusted by.

It wasn't about him getting his chest tattooed with ravens. It was the very fact that he got a tattoo. For every other person, it's no big deal, but for Riyaan, it was. It reminded him of his father. Someone he wanted to forget the very existence of. Then why would he choose to take up the persona of someone he hated with profundity?

Because of me?

Because I scarred him again and for life?

"Mahika?" My mother tapped on my shoulder, bringing me out of my trance.

"Everyone is waiting for you downstairs, Baccha. Chalo" ,she said and i quickly fixed my lehnga and gave final brushes to my makeup.

My mother held my hand and helped me carry my heavily embellished lehnga while I walked into the ceremony hall.

For a minute, I was stunned looking at the decoration. Every single thing was exactly how I imagined it to be. Ranging from white chrysanthemums to the colorful decor, it felt like my childhood dream come true. Music, colors, fairy lights, and the special 'Mahika ki'Mehndi"-everything made me feel like it was my world and everyone else was living in it.

Wait, how is everything so precise and exactly how I wanted it to be?

Even I had forgotten what I wanted it to be like in all these years. It was just in high school that I... And I realized everything.

Riyaan .

I had told him everything about my dream, my ideal wedding, and what not. He was my best friend after all.

I turned around to look for him and saw him standing in the other corner of the room, leaning against the wall, with a playful smirk displayed on his lips as if he were celebrating some victory.

Was it?

Was I remembering my dream wedding? What felt like victory to him?

Or was it the fact that here I'm smiling and incredibly elated?

Whatever it was, the fact that it was about me was enough for me. Enough to make my heart beat as fast as it did when I saw him for the first time in high school and fell in...

Nevermind

"Ijazat hai?" He walked up to me and held out his hand.

"Aapko poochne ki zaroorat nahi hai, "I said, slowly placing my palm in his.

He didn't waste another second by gripping my hand and walking me to the sofa.

The soft tunes played in the background; everything looked absolutely beautiful, and Riyaan was walking by my side, holding my hand. What else could I have asked for in life?

It felt like a dream. I was living a dream. A dream I never wished to wake up from.

I sat down on the sofa while he sat on another one facing me. The mehndi artists started applying henna to my legs while my relatives and friends danced and played music and other games.

He sat on another sofa, facing me, intentionally. He's doing everything intentionally. Holding the wedding ceremonies at his house, the decor, and everything-it's all with the intention to grab my attention, keep me closer, and always be near him-only if he knew he always had my undivided attention and I'm always willing to be close to him.

"Mahika, it's Divya's call," my mother said, holding the phone to my ears and bringing me out of my thoughts. His thoughts.

"Mu dikhayi karne aayi thi?" I asked her angrily.

"Mahi, I was ready to be there, but I've gotten stuck. Ahh, I promise I'll be there in a while," she said, hanging up the call.

What the?

I've been looking for her since the day of my engagement, and she just disappeared like she never existed. Gosh, this girl.

"Is everything okay?" my mother asked, looking at me.

"Yeah, mum. Everything is fine. She called to inform me that she'd be reaching the place in a while. "I told her, and she gave me a sweet smile.

Yeah, mum. I don't know if my best friend was moaning in pain or... okay, she doesn't have a boyfriend, so maybe the first option. She is just a clumsy ass like me who can't walk straight or be normal and always ends up hurting herself.

The mehndi was organized as a low-key, close-relatives-only kind of ceremony. I wanted to enjoy it. Every bit of it. Without having to invest much in greeting or welcoming others. It was my wedding celebration. So, of course, I deserved to be cynosure.

"Mam kya naam likhu mehndi me? The henna artist asked me, bringing me out of my trail of thoughts.

My eyes instantly dart towards his, locking our gazes, and I feel something igniting within me. The desire-the feeling of belonging somewhere-belongs to him.

"Riyaan," I said to the henna artist without breaking eye contact with him.

A smile, one of his genuine ones, made its way onto his face, and that made me smile as well.

I was happy. I felt wanted. Loved. Protected. Respected. Heard . Alive.

Yes. I felt alive; I felt like myself again after feeling lost for all these years. The intensity with which he looked at me made me feel alive. Respondent.

Needless to say, these moments were literally the best memories of my life.

After an hour or so, when my mehndi was finally done, I excused myself from the crowd and went upstairs, willing to get some fresh air and also to escape his gaze for a while.

It felt too much. It felt like he'd known me for ages. Every scarred and depraved part of mine that even I refused to see, and yet he was here today, willing to have me, impatient to have me.

I looked down at the washbasin and then up at myself in the mirror, only to end up screaming before his left hand muffled it.

"You scared me, "I said, looking at his reflection in the mirror as he released his hand from my mouth.

"I know. I like it when you're scared," he said, only to have my eyes widen in shock.

"You like it when I'm scared?" I asked, almost in disbelief.

"No . I like it when you're scared of me. Me and me only," he said with a smirk.

Asshole .

"I'm not scared of you, "I huffed.

"You just admitted you were ," he said with a smug look.

Ugh . I hated that look. I might have even tried to take it off his face had my hands not been occupied with henna.

But it was true. He scared me. Not him exactly, but I very well knew what he was capable of, and that's what scared me. Especially when it comes to me. He can die and kill someone to keep me safe, to keep me close to him, to have me, and once he has me, he'll devour me whole.

Devil.

I elbow him in the ribs, and he flinches a little but doesn't make any sound. I turn sideways to leave, but his strong arms snake around my waist, pulling me back.

Goosebumps?

Really god Ji?

He was supposed to be my enemy, and I'm just not supposed to feel this much at the touch of an enemy.

"I didn't say you could leave," he said, holding my gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

"And who said I needed your permission? I retorted.

"I am," he replied.

Only if there was an award for getting on my nerves within a fraction of seconds would this guy have owned it ever since.

"Stop being so full of yourself," I replied back.

"Okay, relax. I was kidding with you," he said, never losing his calm.

"Kidding with you, bade aaye. Mai koi kid nahi hu. Mujhse kidding with you, kar rahe," I said, making a face at him.

"Naaraz hain aap?" he asked, turning me towards him and lifting my chin up.

"Haa. Aapne sach jo nahi bataya, "I said, turning towards the mirror again.

"Mera sabse bada sach to aap hain," he said, locking his gaze with mine. I could see sincerity in every word he said and in every look in his eyes.

"Ya to aap mujhse behad nafrat karte hain, ya hadd se zyada pyaar, "I said, looking into his eyes in the mirror. Eyes that held me at my place. Eyes that ignited my soul and calmed my demons.

"Aapko kya lagta hai?" He brought

forward his hands, revealing my name on his Mehndi. Yeah, right. He got my name written in his mehndi.

Mahika.

Mahika.

Mahika.