NOVEL NEXT I messed up.
And then there was something else—something unnameable that lingered in the space between them, a strange, unbidden connection that left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. She could see it in his eyes too, the same uncertainty, the same raw, unfiltered emotion. It was as if, for a brief moment, they had both been stripped of their defenses, forced to confront each other in a way neither had expected.
The silence that enveloped them was thick and heavy, almost tangible in its intensity. The marigold petals continued their slow, graceful descent around them, like golden confetti frozen in time. A gentle breeze swept through the room, carrying with it the faint scent of earth and flowers, adding to the surreal quality of the scene. Sunlight filtered in from the windows, casting a soft, warm glow that bathed them in a light almost too perfect, too cinematic, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this moment just for them.
Prince, feeling the weight of Nidhi’s gaze on him, slowly began to withdraw his hand from her lips. The motion was slow, hesitant, as though he were afraid that any sudden movement might shatter the fragile silence between them. As his fingers left her skin, he took a step back, trying to put some distance between them, hoping it would ease the awkwardness that clung to the air like a dense fog.
His eyes darted away, unable to meet hers for more than a fleeting second, betraying a complex mix of embarrassment, fear, and something akin to regret. The intensity of the moment had left him rattled, and for a few heartbeats, he struggled to find his footing, to understand the depth of what had just transpired. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, a telltale sign of his lingering discomfort.
Prince (thinking to himself, with a faint, shaky smile): "Phew, I dodged a bullet... But what just happened?"
His thoughts were a chaotic jumble as he tried to process the encounter. The pulse in his ears was still loud, each beat reminding him of the closeness they had just shared. But as he finally looked back at Nidhi, he could see she was just as shaken, standing as if frozen in place, her body rigid with lingering tension.
Her face was still flushed with a mix of anger and shyness, the delicate skin of her cheeks tinged with red. Her eyes, however, were anything but shy. They were sharp, narrowed into a glare that pierced through the remnants of the moment, cutting through whatever fragile connection had briefly tied them together. The intensity of her gaze made Prince's smile falter, turning what he had hoped would be a lighthearted end to their encounter into something much more daunting.
Prince (awkwardly, attempting to defuse the tension with a nervous laugh): “Uh... I thought you’d be scared, so...”
But before he could finish, Nidhi’s sharp glare cut him off. The force of her stare was like a slap in itself, full of unspoken words and simmering anger that needed no voice to be understood. Prince’s laughter died in his throat, replaced by a lump of dread that settled heavily in his chest. He had miscalculated—terribly so.
Nidhi’s face, which had moments ago been touched by an almost ethereal softness, was now hardened with fury. Her eyes, usually so bright and full of life, were narrowed into slits of pure, undiluted anger. Her lips, once parted in surprise, were now pressed into a tight, thin line as she glared at him, her body trembling slightly from the force of her emotions.
Nidhi (internally, her thoughts seething): "How dare he? How dare he think this is a joke?"
The silence that followed was thick and oppressive, stretching out between them like a taut wire ready to snap. Prince, sensing the intensity of her anger, felt his own heart rate spike once more, but this time not from the closeness or the fear of Bhura, but from the realization that he had crossed a line he hadn’t even seen.
And then, suddenly, that tension broke.
SFX: The sharp, unmistakable sound of a loud slap echoed through the room, snapping through the air like a whip. The force of it seemed to reverberate off the walls, shaking the stillness that had surrounded them moments before.
Prince’s head snapped to the side from the impact, his cheek stinging with the sudden, unexpected pain. For a moment, he stood there in stunned silence, his hand instinctively rising to touch the spot where her hand had connected. The warmth from her slap was still radiating through his skin, a stark contrast to the cold shock that gripped his chest.
Nidhi’s hand trembled slightly as she lowered it, the adrenaline of the slap still coursing through her veins. Her breath was quick, shallow, as she fought to control the storm of emotions swirling inside her. Her eyes were wide, wild with the remnants of her anger, but there was something else there too—something that bordered on regret, though she wouldn’t let herself acknowledge it fully.
The marigold petals, now fully settled on the floor, bore silent witness to the charged atmosphere in the room. The breeze that had been so gentle before now felt too cool, too biting against the heated tension between them. The sunlight that had seemed so warm and welcoming now only highlighted the starkness of their situation, throwing everything into sharp relief.
Prince, finally finding his voice, turned back to her, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion, hurt, and a desperation to understand.
Prince (quietly, almost pleading): "Nidhi... I... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—"
But Nidhi didn’t let him finish. Her anger, though somewhat abated by the slap, was still simmering beneath the surface, and she wasn’t ready to forgive so easily.
Nidhi (firmly, with a voice that brooked no argument): "You should leave, Prince. Now."
Her words were cold, final, and they cut through Prince like a blade. He opened his mouth to protest, to explain, but the look in her eyes told him that there was nothing more to be said. The moment was over, and he had to leave.
With a heavy heart and a lingering sting on his cheek, Prince nodded, accepting her unspoken command. He turned and made his way to the door, his steps slow and weighed down with the gravity of what had just happened. As he reached the threshold, he paused, turning back to look at her one last time.
Nidhi had already turned away, her back to him as she gathered the scattered marigold petals from the floor. The sight of her, so focused and determined to erase the traces of their encounter, sent a pang of regret through him. But he knew better than to linger.
Prince (internally, with a sense of finality): "I messed up... big time."
And with that, he stepped out into the world once more, the brightness of the day feeling strangely dimmer, the sounds of the village muted in his ears. The slap, both physical and emotional, had left a mark on him that went deeper than just his skin, and as he walked away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had irrevocably changed between them.
Nidhi, left alone in the quiet of the courtyard, finally allowed herself to breathe. Her hands were still shaking, and she felt the weight of her actions pressing down on her. She hadn’t meant to slap him—at least, not with such force—but the mix of emotions had been too much, and she had acted without thinking.
As she gathered the last of the petals, she paused, looking down at them with a sigh. They were meant to be an offering, a symbol of peace and devotion, but now they felt tainted, like a reminder of the chaos that had just unfolded. She knew she wouldn’t be able to forget this moment easily, and as she stood up, she found herself wishing that things had gone differently.
But there was no taking back what had happened. All she could do now was move forward and hope that time would heal the awkward, painful rift that had formed between them.
The day continued on, but for both Nidhi and Prince, the weight of their encounter lingered, casting a shadow over the morning that neither had anticipated.
To be continued...
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