Samyuktika's frustration boiled over as Ekansh's steady breathing filled the room. She tossed a pillow at his sleeping form.
"Let me sleep, you Rakshas!" she exclaimed, using the Hindi word for "demon."
Ekansh stirred, rubbing his eyes. "What's wrong?" he growled.
Samyuktika's voice trembled. "You're snoring so loudly. Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?"
Ekansh's gaze narrowed. "You're the one disturbing me."
Samyuktika's anger flared. "You've disturbed my life, Ekansh. One night's sleep won't compensate for that."
Ekansh didn't leave. Instead, he strode to the bedside and glared down at Samyuktika.
"You think you can just order me around?" he snarled, his eyes blazing.
Samyuktika's heart raced, but she refused to back down.
"I just want to sleep," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
Ekansh's gaze intensified. "You'll sleep when I say you can."
Suddenly, he grasped her wrists, pinning her to the bed.
Samyuktika struggled, but Ekansh's grip was unyielding.
"Let me go!" she demanded.
Ekansh's face twisted. "You're mine, Samyuktika. You'll do as I say."
Fear and anger warred within her as Ekansh's hot breath brushed against her skin.
Samyuktika knew she was trapped, at his mercy.
Ekansh's grip tightened as Samyuktika's words cut deep.
"Yaar ek toh tum 'you are mine' ke naare lagana band karo," she spat, her voice laced with venom. "Yeh kehte bhi ho aur itna sab kar bhi dete ho."
(Translation: "For God's sake, stop proclaiming 'you are mine'. You say this, yet you do all this to me.")
Ekansh's eyes flashed with anger, but Samyuktika continued, her words pouring out like acid.
"Kya hai tumhara 'mine'? Tumhara possession? Tumhara toy?"
(Translation: "What is this 'mine' of yours? Your possession? Your toy?")
Ekansh's face darkened, his jaw clenched.
"Samyuktika, tum..."
(Samyuktika, you...)
But she cut him off, her voice rising.
"Main tumhari jaagir nahi hoon, Ekansh. Main insaan hoon."
(Translation: "I am not your property, Ekansh. I am a human being.")
The room pulsed with tension as Ekansh's anger wrestled with Samyuktika's defiance.
Ekansh's voice dripped with malice. "Toh maine kab kaha ki tum ek janwar ho?" (When did I say you're an animal?)
"Aur tum Ekansh Rai par aise hi hukum nahi chala sakti." (And you can't dictate terms to me like this).
Samyuktika's eyes widened in outrage. She gasped, her face burning.
"Tumhari itne himmat jo tumne mujhe khoonkhar janwar kaha!" (How dare you call me a bloodthirsty animal!)
She hurled another pillow at Ekansh, her anger boiling over.
Ekansh dodged the pillow, his expression unyielding.
"Maine kaha tha, Samyuktika. Tum mere liye kuch bhi kar sakti ho." (I said, Samyuktika, you can do anything for me).
Samyuktika's voice trembled. "Tumne mujhe janwar kaha. Tumne mujhe apni jaagir samjha." (You called me an animal. You considered me your property).
Ekansh's eyes flashed. "Maine kaha tha, tum mere hi ho." (I said, you're mine).
The air was heavy with tension, their words hanging like daggers.
Samyuktika's heart raced, her soul screaming for freedom.
Samyuktika's eyes flashed. "Tumhe koi kisi din Jaan se maar jaaye toh sabse jyada Khushi mujhe hi hogi." (If someone were to kill you one day, I'd be the happiest person).
Ekansh chuckled. "Haha, you know this can never happen."
Their bickering escalated, voices rising.
Ekansh's frustration boiled over. "Mahindra Rai ne mujhe kya sar dard pakda diya hai." (What a headache Mahindra Rai has given me).
Samyuktika's face twisted in anger. "Haawww, tumne mujhe sar dard kaha? Tumhari itni himmat?" (You call me a headache? How dare you?).
Ekansh's gaze narrowed. "Tumhari zubaan kesi hai, Samyuktika?" (What's with your tone?).
Samyuktika stood up, her eyes blazing. "Meri zubaan tumhare liye hai, Ekansh. Tumse baat karne ke liye." (My tone is for you, Ekansh. For talking to you).
The tension between them crackled like electricity.
They bickered throughout the night, their argument unresolved.
No resolution came, just an endless cycle of snide remarks and biting words.
As the first light of dawn crept in, they finally fell silent, exhausted.
The tension lingered, a palpable reminder of their unresolved conflict.
The night had changed nothing; their differences remained, a gaping chasm between them.
In the uncomfortable silence, they waited for morning, each lost in their own thoughts.
Finally, exhaustion took its toll.
Ekansh collapsed onto the couch, his eyes closing involuntarily.
Samyuktika settled into the bed, her body surrendering to fatigue.
The tension still lingered, but sleep's pull was stronger.
For two blissful hours, they escaped the turmoil.
No arguments, no snide remarks, just the quiet refuge of sleep.
But as the morning sun rose higher, reality crept back in.
Their temporary peace would soon give way to renewed conflict.
The question was, who would break the fragile silence first? Samyuktika rubbed her eyes, gazing at Ekansh with disdain.
"Hey bhagwan, pata nahi kya paap kiye the maine pichhle janam me jo mujhe is admi ki shakal dekhni pad rahi hai." (Oh God, I wonder what sins I committed in my past life that I have to see this man's face).
Ekansh smiled wryly.
"Same goes for me too," he said.
Samyuktika raised an eyebrow.
Ekansh continued, "You're the only one who's alive after talking a lot."
Samyuktika's expression turned icy.
"Is that a threat?" she asked.
Ekansh shrugged.
"Just stating facts," he replied.
Samyuktika snorted.
"Facts? You're the one who's always on the receiving end of my 'lot of talk'."
Ekansh chuckled.
"True, but someone has to keep you in check."
Samyuktika rolled her eyes.
"I don't need checking. You need to learn to listen."
Samyuktika sighed, "I wanna bath, but do not have anything to wear."
Ekansh pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
"Raghav, send some clothes for Samyuktika," he instructed.
Within minutes, a knock on the door broke the silence.
Ekansh opened it to receive a packet from an unseen hand.
He handed it to Samyuktika, who eyed it warily.
As she opened the packet, a stunning anarkali kurti unfolded.
Its intricate embroidery and vibrant hues took her breath away.
"Wow," she whispered.
Ekansh leaned against the doorframe.
"Raghav's taste is impeccable," he said.
Samyuktika's gaze narrowed.
"You planned this, didn't you?"
Ekansh shrugged.
"Maybe."
Samyuktika's lips curled.
"You think a pretty dress will fix everything?"
Ekansh pushed off the doorframe.
"Can't hurt, can it?"
Samyuktika's eyes lingered on the kurti.
For a moment, her anger wavered.
But only for a moment.
"I'll wear it," she said, "but don't think this changes anything."