Started Typing On - 24/01/2019

Chapter 53- Personality Switches?

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Author's Pov:

It was seven thirty by the time Jaanvi got ready into a red pinkish Indian suit. It had simple golden spots on it, few inches below her knee, combining with golden leggings below. Finishing the look she left her long wavy hair open with golden earrings. She was going to wear a dress instead but decided to change into a suit instead. Why? Because she always wore this suit on her mother's birthday.

Her mother loved suits, the suit she wore belonged to her mother. Yes, it was around twenty-seven year old. As old as Kiaan. "This suit was gifted by Ishaani's father on her graduation day." Her father had informed the sixteen year old Jaanvi, tall enough to wear the suit. Since then it's like a tradition for her.

Here goes nothing. She thought, zipping her lips together in a tight smile. Seeing her reflection on the mirror Jaanvi sighed sharply. Please Tina don't make me want to hate you even more. The two girl's relationship was never stable. Discouraging, taunting, showing standards to each other was their way of communicating. To their unfortunate luck most of their classes were together, therefore seeing each other beautiful face every day became a routine.

It was around seventeen when Tina moved away from India, her father had a job transfer. Somewhere, was all Jaanvi knew about Tina, just few years ago she found out through social media seeing Tina all grown up, as annoying as well, living in New York. How amazing! (Note the sarcasm)

"Spending all day in there with your pencils?" Quickly flinching from the loud, annoyed and impatient voice Jaanvi rolled her eyes.

"They aren't my pencils! They are makeup products." Her voice was supposed to come out as equally annoyed as her husband but the smile on her lips changed the whole scenario. Her tone was like a young girl teaching her parents how to use phones, an innocent smile explaining your parents what every emoji meant.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She could imagine him making a face with his eyes constantly rolling from the bedroom. Holding the bathroom door knob, she twisted it seeing Kiaan putting some gel on his hair. "If I have eight white shirts, that's a problem. And you can have seven pencils and that's fine? So fair." My body was targeted by his icy eyes, glaring right at her through the dressing table mirror. His hands were running through his hair but eyes never leaving Jaanvi's.

"They aren't pencils ok?" She repeated, walking towards the bedside table to get her phone. "Pencils cost around ten rupees, this costs over two hundred at times." She muttered lowly, scanning through her Instagram feed. I should text Adi. Came the first thing into her head.

"You're telling me you'll spend my hard earned money on pencils?" His voice laced amusement as well as frustration. She froze on her spot feeling his chest pressing on her back. What is he? Flash? "What are you? Pencil collector?" he questioned impatiently.

I can't let her do this. Bloody hell pencils?

He thought, his eyes boring holes onto her back.

Jaanvi turned around meeting his face. Before she could even speak he shot her a look, his eyes going dark unpleasingly. "Ok I will stop buying them? Happy?" she raised her hand up in surrender. Why is he getting so serious about pencils Ughh mascara!

"Good." He replied sternly. "I was worried I'd end up using that," He disgustingly pointed at her mascara. "-As a pencil, thank god I found out. I was actually thinking why you kept it there, thought I really had to call the hospital today." He tried really hard to compress the smile ready to linger on his lips.

"And I was worried why you kept so many white shirts, far as I know our relatives are all alive." She shot back, passing him her signature smirk walking out the bedroom leaving an open mouth, stunned Kiaan alone.

(Indian's wear white clothes to a funeral)

Her bluntness is going to kill her one day. Picking up his car keys, he left the house with Jaanvi beside him.

Kiaan was busy driving and Jaanvi was busy admiring him. Wow, for once he didn't wear anything near white. There he sat on the driver's seat wearing black top with light pink shirt unbuttoned. His look was giving the perfect view to his personality Jaanvi thought. Hmmm, black suits him. He can be dangerous, dark and secretive. Pink? Perhaps light hearted, romantic? And calm, yes he is very calm if I ignore his attitude and anger.

"Why are you wearing this?" His throat was scratchy, like he hadn't used it in a week. She knew he wished to ask this question at home but for some reasons stayed quiet. Why?

Her eyes directly went on her suit, unintentionally judging it. Is it not good enough? The outfit always gave her sort of pride, strength and confident all her life but today his simple sharp question made her reconsider about the piece of clothing she wore.

"I-i-I," The dictionary inside her dead was lost. She wanted to speak but didn't know what to say. Tell him why she decided to pick this Indian outfit over a western one? Or explain further on about her mother? Did I make the wrong decision? Funny how few minutes ago confident Jaanvi was now struggling to understand her own likes and dislikes. Her own opinions.

He felt her feeling nervous. Not even nervous but worried, like she was having a major debate with her own self. "It looks nice. Fits you perfectly as well." He managed to spit the words out without letting her realize he was watching her for the past minute. Studying her changing expressions. "I just--" he paused tapping his finger on the staring wheel. "I thought you'd wear a dress, you like western clothes? Right?" Kiaan now took his eyes off the road for a second to glance over to her.

His wife's face now relaxed a bit. Her tight, straight posture and laid back on the seat tiredly, with a smile though. "I'm sleepy." Her eyes closed now, breathing steadily. "Probably the jet lag. Wake me up when we reach." Touched her sleepy voice on his ears.

"What am I? Your driver? Or servant?" she heard him snarl. He definitely took her words the wrong way. Everyone did, except her father.

She pleasantly smiled lightly, her eyes still shut. "Your wife. Your Ariel." A exhausted yawn left her mouth, with her falling into a deep slumber before she said, "Your too sweet Kiaan. Not someone I hate but someone I love."

Little did she know she didn't say this in her head, she said it out loud. Lowly but enough for him to hear her.

A normal person would perhaps stop the car hearing the confession, Kiaan was nowhere near normal. Like his heartbeats, his speed went from fifty to hundred. What do I do? What do I say? Am I supposed to say I love you too? But I don't..? I don't know if I do love her. She said I'm someone she loves. Bloody hell love? As in L O V E type of love? Oh my god! I think I'm going crazy, this stubborn, idiot cat Ariel loves me? But doesn't she call me a jerk?

As the word 'love,' rang inside his head he felt his heart thumping inside his chest, ready to burst out into the world. It was his cheeks that suddenly felt hot causing him to couch them, looking at the side mirror he noticed himself blushing.

Blushing for the first time in his whole life.

Blushing because of Jaanvi.

His stubborn cat. His Ariel.

He understood he was smitten by her. If only her one word was enough to make him blush helplessly like a teenage boy then imagine how he'd be when she proposes him, or he does. Or when they make love. Or when she declares she's pregnant with his child? I'm going nuts. Today, on her mother's birthday he smiled all the way to Tina's house, a smile he couldn't brush off his face.

Calm down Kiaan. She's probably going to forget this. He reminded himself. "But I can't calm down! What the fuc-"

"SHUT UP! Let me sleep." She groaned in her sleep hearing his loud voice. Hitting his arms in anger, she turned her face to the other side.

Shit! How can I forget? I call her a cat for a reason. She'll seriously make me bloody. He could already imagine Jaanvi's nails digging onto his skin while he was making out with her. Life's impossible.

~

"Moti (Fat or Fatso), get up." Kiaan poked her arm for the fifteenth time, earning a slap from her on his chest.

"Let me sleep!" she growled, tugging her hand inside her legs feeling cold.

"Fine sleep! I'll just go inside and enjoy with Tina." He moved his face closer to her ear purposely, hoping she'd get up straight at the mention of Tina's name. "Tina, Tina. With Tina." He repeated, his breathe on her face.

"Go enjoy with Tina, Shina, Lena, Bina, I don't care."

"Get up Jaanvi. Stop being a kid." He nagged.

"Few minutes ago you wanted a kid inside this kid's womb. Didn't think about it then or was you're brain hijacked by some terrorist?" she snapped, rubbing her eyes softly. Glancing at Kiaan, not receiving a reply she saw him smirking. Smirking evilly. "You look like those boys with rabbit teeth with this smirk. You know, like those ugly smirks? Like that."

She pointed out, giggling.

"The offer is always on." He wriggled his eyebrows in a mischief yet seductive way. Cleverly ignoring her comments.

"Your brain is occupied with so much dirt, you know? I should wash it just like I wash my shoes sometimes."

Jaanvi's Pov:

"Aja haveli pe." (Come to the mansion) He winked, holding my hands pushing myself towards him. His hands snaked around my waist, smiling at me widely. My palms instantly landing on his shoulder, holding him firmly. His brown deep eyes diluting into another emotion leaving me breathless. He doesn't even warm me before anything! This is like those mini tests your teacher surprised you with as you walked into the class. 

"Ummm," I whispered cleating a little space between our lips. "Amrish Puri? Is he inside your body?" I mean I had to make sure. He was acting weird so who knows? The grip of his hands on waist wasn't like before, the one I was used to.

(Amrish Puri is a famous Indian actor. The line 'Come to the mansion' was said by him)

This one was different, unrecognizable. As if he's the different person. No even person but different emotions. Kiaan was acting like a lover.  

"No, Shahrukh Khan." He replied, with no sarcasm. His eyes on my lips the whole time. What is he? Personality shifter like Mouni Roy in Naagin? The intensity of his gaze made me shiver, shiver so visibly that his eyes went up to my eyes, noticing his effect on me.

(SRK is a famous Indian romantic actor.)

"Then please become Mohnish Bahl from Hum Saath - Saath Hain" I muttered, batting my eyes lashes to keep myself busy rather than making eye contact.

(Mohnish Bahl was an innocent, quiet and loving guy in the movie)

"Your so opposite to normal girls." He muttered, clearly not happy with my suggestion.

"Then go behind the normal girls." I murmured, rolling my eyes at him. He gotta accept me for who I am. Did I complain about his annoying senseless clothes, AKA his white shirts?

"Too late."

"C-can you l-like, move?" moving my hands carefully to his behind my waist, I held his fingers trying to untie them from my waist. My gaze fell on his seized chest, his breathe now looking into my eyes. I wasn't exactly use to this Kiaan, therefore I was uncomfortable.

One by one I removed his fingers from me. My fingers on the car door ready to open it when he spoke, "You are going to crave for my touch Miss Jaanvi." He challenged, my eyebrows, rose automatically.

"Sorry to burst your bubble but I only crave cakes. Unfortunately you're not a cake nor you taste like my chocolate cake." Stepping out of the car I shut the door quickly.

"You're the one who has sleeping problems." I was greeted by his common smirk, putting the car key inside hide his jeans pocket. Standing in front of me his gaze challenged me to reply.

"N-no I don't." But I knew I did. I needed someone to hug myself to sleep or something. I had to put my leg on top of people to feel secure about my life. And I was scared of the dark, damn it.

"Sure." The words lingered on top of his lips like he was ready to use them any second. Splashing his last smirk he walked inside leaving me standing out in the cold. "You coming, wife?" he turned back tilting his face at such an angle that made him look like a ghost.

"Jeez! Coming, husband!" I hate ghosts and my only husband has to behave like one.

I think I don't mind a SRK. I smiled following him like a lost puppy trying to find their house.

Married My Enemy

Next chapter will be uploaded today if I get the chance to finish writing it-No promises.