Chapter Forty Six
Ria's POV;
The Rathore mansion did not celebrate Holi quietly.
It exploded.
Music blasted through the speakers. Servants ran around with trays of thandai and sweets. Bowls of bright colours - pink, orange, yellow, deep crimson - were placed everywhere like open invitations for chaos.
Laughter echoed through the courtyard.
But inside me?
Silence.
I adjusted the pallu of my white saree - the fabric light, almost dangerous in how it clung to my frame. White is perfect during Holi. It shows everything. Every color.
I balanced the tray of juice carefully, heading toward the garden. Dadaji preferred sitting away from loud music, and I knew he would be there.
My saree tried to betray me again, the pallu tangling around my ankle.
"Behave," I muttered under my breath.
I stepped into the garden.
And stopped.
Because he was there.
Aansh.
Sitting beside Dadaji and Aavyan like he owned the ground beneath him.
He wasn't in his usual suit today.
He wore a white kurta - simple, traditional, sleeves rolled just enough to reveal strong forearms. His hair was slightly messy, probably from running them through his fingers.
He looked sinful.
Dangerous.
Beautiful in a way that made my chest physically ache.
I had seen him powerful before.
But today he looked royal.
Untouchable.
Unfair.
My knees weakened.
Why did God make him this perfect? How can i hate him when all i want is to be held by him.
"Relax, Ria. Breathe," I whispered as my hands began to tremble around the tray.
"Ria, come, my child," Dadaji called warmly.
I forced my feet to move.
Each step felt like walking toward a battlefield.
"I brought you some juice," I said, bending slightly to hand him the glass.
And then-
I felt it.
That stare.
Slow. Intense. Undeniable.
Aansh.
I didn't look at him.
But my skin reacted.
Heat crawled up my neck. My pulse spiked. My breathing shortened.
"Bhabhi," Aavyan grinned playfully, "you look incredible today."
I flushed. "Thank you," I whispered.
"Sit, dear," Dadaji insisted, patting the seat right beside Aansh.
My heart dropped.
Slowly - against my will - I looked at him.
Big mistake.
He was already staring.
Not casually.
Not politely.
Like he was studying me.
He looked deep into my soul as if daring me to look away.
His gaze lowered.
Paused.
Lifted again.
And something changed in his eyes.
Something I couldn't read.
I felt like I was standing too close to fire.
"I'm very busy, Dadaji," I said quickly, breaking eye contact. "I can't sit."
He nodded kindly.
I walked away before my legs gave out.
The moment I stepped inside, I inhaled sharply.
He's back.
The thought hit me like a punch to the gut.
"God," I whispered, looking up toward the ceiling, "why test me with Your most beautiful creation?"
How am I supposed to stay strong when I lose all sense around him?
Author's POV;
The Holi celebration reached its peak.
Guests were now drenched in color. Laughter turned louder. Music switched to energetic beats.
Kritika grabbed the mic, her voice echoing.
"Attention everyone! Time for the annual Rathore Couple Dance!"
Cheers erupted instantly.
"It's tradition!" she laughed. "The winning couple gets a special prize!"
Couples began taking turns, dancing under clouds of beautiful stage. The air itself looked painted with love.
Ria stood near Avantika, trying to avoid a certain pair of eyes.
Aavyan and Avantika were announced to come to the stage.
They danced beautifully - close, comfortable, happy. He lifted her and as the dance came to an end, he kissed her forehead.
Ria watched them with something sharp in her chest.
"Will I ever have something like that?" she whispered to herself.
Then came the final announcement.
"And now," Kritika beamed mischievously, "our last couple - my brother Aansh and our beautiful Ria!"
The world froze.
Ria's fingers stiffened.
She hadn't agreed to this.
Her eyes slowly lifted.
Aansh was standing near the bar.
Watching.
Calm.
Deadly.
The crowd began chanting softly.
"Dance! Dance! Dance!"
Ria's pulse thundered.
"I can't," she whispered to herself.
Her throat felt dry.
Aansh took slow steps forward.
He didn't smile.
He didn't speak.
He just extended his hand.
An invitation.
Or a command.
The entire courtyard watched.
Ria felt exposed, vulnerable under his gaze.
If she walked to him, she knew she would forget herself.
If she refused, she would humiliate him.
Her pride won.
"I'm tired," she said loudly, her voice cutting through the music.
Gasps.
Whispers.
Aansh's fingers curled slightly.
His jaw tightened.
But his face remained expressionless.
She turned and walked away.
Behind her, whispers echoed.
But between them?
Only tension.