21
I and Dattatriya sat together on one of the side tables as servers brought in a variety of wedding delicacies-royal thalis packed with curries, rice, puris, pickles, and of course, sweets.
"Try them," I said casually, watching him poke at the food like he was suspicious of it.
He gave a short nod and started eating-his movements slow, precise, like he was calculating every bite.
But something caught my eye. He wasn't even touching the sweets.
"Why are you not eating sweets?" I asked, curiously.
"I don't like them," he said flatly, not even looking up.
"Oh come on, Mr. Chief Minister," I teased. "Eat it, you won't lose your precious biscuits-I mean, abs-if you have one rasgulla."
He finally looked at me. That signature blank, unimpressed stare.
"Okay, okay, don't eat. Your loss," I huffed and picked up a piece of kaju barfi from my plate, stuffing it into my mouth. "Mmm..."
I actually moaned softly while eating. "God, this is so good."
And when I turned my head, he was staring at me.
Not blankly. Not coldly. But with an intensity. A kind of quiet... devotion.
My heart skipped a beat, but I didn't ask anything. I just reached for a rasgulla, took a bite, then without thinking, held the spoon out to him.
Honestly? I expected him to refuse. This man wouldn't even let someone breathe too close to him, let alone eat from someone else's spoon.
But to my shock...
He leaned forward and ate the rasgulla from the same spoon. Happily.
My eyes widened a little, but he simply looked at me and said in that deep, calm voice,
"You were right. Not bad."
And I swear... my brain short-circuited for a moment.
Finally, we finished eating. The hall had started to buzz with the sound of music as the DJ kicked off the dance session.
Lights dimmed to a warm golden hue, casting a magical glow across the decorated space.
Everyone was heading toward the dance floor, laughter echoing, Arya bhabhi already pulling Bhairava bhaiya along.
Dattatriya stood up and was about to leave when I instinctively reached out and held his hand.
"Stay," I said softly, not looking at him.
He paused for a moment, then... nodded.
We both walked to the main hall slowly. It was crowded and warm, full of energy. My heart was beating a little too fast.
Suddenly, his voice came low, near my ear, "Wanna dance?"
I turned to him. He wasn't smirking. No teasing. Just calm. Just him.
I smiled a little and nodded. "Yes."
He reached out his hand.
And I placed mine in his.
The music was soft, a slow rhythm echoing around us, but all I could hear was the sound of his breathing and my heartbeat.
He held me like I was made of glass - careful, controlled, almost reverent.
My hand rested on his shoulder, his palm gently placed on the small of my back.
We swayed in silence, lost in each other's presence.
I couldn't stop staring at him. And surprisingly... he was doing the same.
Without even realizing, I leaned against his chest - my head lightly resting there. He didn't move away. He didn't protest. He just let me.
"You smell... too good," I whispered, my lips brushing his collar.
He stiffened, and for the first time, his voice trembled - just a bit.
"Don't, Katha," he whispered, low and fragile.
I pulled away a little and looked up at him. "What?" I asked, confused by the sudden shift.
"Don't come too close to me," he said, his voice now even softer, but heavy with something I couldn't place. "I might destroy you."
That was the first time I saw something real behind his mask. Vulnerability. Fear. Guilt.
And before I could stop myself, before I could even think, I whispered back, "Why do you think you'll destroy me... Datta?"
As soon as the word left my lips - Datta - he looked at me, truly looked at me. And I was just as shocked as he was. I'd never called him that. But it slipped out like a name I'd known forever.
He didn't speak.
Neither did I.
We just stayed there, still dancing... but somehow in our own world now.
He didn't speak. Just turned slightly, like he was ready to walk away again - his jaw tight, body tense, like every second he stood near me was a war with himself.
I reached out and held his hand, not tightly, just enough.
"Don't walk away from me," I whispered, barely audible over the fading music.
He stopped.
Still didn't turn.
"Datta..." I whispered again, softer this time - like his name was a secret only I could speak.
And that name... it made him turn.
Slowly, he looked over his shoulder. His eyes... those usually unreadable, emotionless eyes, were now filled with something raw. A storm of guilt. Pain. Something he had buried deep, now breaking through.
"Don't call me that, Katha," he whispered. There was no anger in his voice, only sadness - thick and heavy.
"Why?" I asked, taking a small step closer, like I could pull the truth out of him just by being near.
He closed his eyes - tightly. And when he opened them again, the vulnerability was there in full force.
"Because I don't deserve it," he said, voice shaking. "Not from you."
And before I could ask him what he meant... he left.
I stood there, frozen, watching his retreating back.
I didn't call him again.
I just stood in the middle of the floor, his name echoing in my mind - Datta.
The man who never let anyone in... had just let me see him break.
We had completed all the Gruhapravesh rituals for the newlyweds, and Bhairava bhaiya was still slightly overwhelmed. Arya bhabhi, glowing as ever, had her arms around him, whispering something that finally brought a soft smile to his otherwise grumpy post-marriage face.
I stood watching them with a soft smile, feeling warmth in my chest for my brother's happiness... but it didn't last long.
Gyan bhaiya came near me with his usual calm face.
"What's going on, bacha?" he asked, nudging my shoulder slightly.
"Huh?" I blinked, looking at him like I was caught stealing sweets.
"I saw you dance with Dattatriya Agnivanshi," he said casually but his tone was low and serious. "What is happening, bacha?"
I looked away, down at the marble floor like it had the answers. "I... I don't know, bhaiya," I whispered, suddenly unsure of myself. Unsure of everything.
He sighed, took me in a side hug and kissed the top of my head. "Listen to me, Katha. He's more dangerous than all of us combined. He's a storm in human form. Don't let his quiet presence fool you. Remember who he is."
I nodded slowly, but the next sentence from him made my body stiffen.
My entire body tensed.
Oh God.
I had completely forgotten about the marriage.
The engagement. The plan. That my mom had promised when I was younger - that I'd marry Chadda uncle's son to fulfill her wish.
Gowtham - the biggest businessman in Dubai. Polished. Soft-spoken. Kind. The perfect groom on paper.
The man I had agreed to marry... but never loved.
I clenched my jaw tightly, trying to push away the mess of thoughts clouding my mind.
"I'm doing it for mom," I muttered more to myself than to bhaiya.
Gyan bhaiya didn't say anything. He just pulled me closer and kissed my forehead again. "Just don't lose yourself in the middle of fulfilling promises."
And suddenly, Dattatriya's voice echoed in my head.
"Don't come too close to me. I might destroy you."
And my heart... it ached.
I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, completely drowned in my thoughts. My heart felt heavy. The memory of Dattatriya's voice, his vulnerable eyes, and Gyan bhaiya's words played in a loop inside my mind.
I didn't even realize when Arya bhabhi entered the room until I heard her soft voice, "Katha?"
I looked toward her and gave her a half-hearted smile.
She walked in wearing a simple saree now, the bridal jewelry removed, her hair tied in a loose bun. She looked calm, peaceful, and yet her eyes were full of knowing.
She sat beside me, brushing her hand gently over my hair. "What's going on in that sharp little head of yours, hmm?" she asked sweetly.
I blinked back the thoughts. "Nothing. Just tired," I mumbled.
"Don't lie to me, Katha," she said, more firmly this time. "I saw the way you were looking at Dattatriya... and the way he looked at you."
My breath hitched slightly. I stayed quiet.
"Katha, talk to me," she whispered. "What happened?"
I turned to face her, my voice softer than usual. "He danced with me... we spoke... and for the first time, he wasn't that cold, unreachable man. He was... different. But then suddenly, he pulled back. Said he'll destroy me if I come too close."
Arya bhabhi sighed and nodded as if she expected this. "And what did you feel?"
I looked at her, unsure. "Confused. Sad. Angry. It's like... he wants to come close, but something is stopping him. And it hurts. Because for a moment, I saw something in him... something real."
She smiled gently. "You know, love isn't always loud or obvious. Especially not in people like him... people who are made of ice and carry the weight of darkness on their shoulders. When someone like Dattatriya looks at you with softness, even for a second, it's a storm inside them."
I blinked. "But bhabhi, I'm marrying Gowtham."
Her smile faded slightly. "Do you want to?"
My lips parted, but no words came out. I looked away. "Mom promised them."
She held my hand. "Your mom wanted your happiness. Not your silence."
I shook my head. "It's complicated."
"So is love," she said quietly. "But if it's real... it's worth every complication."
She kissed my forehead, stood up, and looked at me one last time. "Just don't lie to yourself, Katha. Not even for family. Especially not for guilt."
And with that, she walked out.
I stayed on the bed, the silence louder than ever... and for the first time in a long while, I didn't know what to do.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Do vote