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Shivalika came back to her home, Hopefully no one saw her in the state she is in right now or else it would have become havoc by now, blood stains on her dress, her dull face, Her body looked stiff, her face was void of any emotions, if her daughter sees her like this by any chance then she would never believe that she is her mother, Her mother is strong but right now the lady looks so helpless.

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She Drew Stars Around My Scars

“Do you regret kissing me, Ishika?” His voice dropped—dark, low, and possessive enough to steal the air from my lungs. My entire body froze. Not because I didn’t know the answer— But because I did. My breath hitched, sharp and aching. Regret? God. If only he knew what that kiss did to me. His grip didn’t loosen. His fingers dug gently into my wrist, grounding me to him, to the heat of his body pressed against my back. I could feel every inch of him—dangerous, intoxicating, magnetic. “Ishika,” he rasped again, each syllable laced with something desperate. Something real. “Do. You. Regret. It?” I should lie. Say it meant nothing. That it was a mistake. But my heart? It was screaming. Screaming for him. No. No, I didn’t regret it. I couldn’t. If I had, I wouldn’t still feel his taste on my lips. I wouldn’t still be burning from the ghost of his touch. I wouldn’t still be aching for more. “We wouldn’t have kissed that long…” I whispered, finally turning to look at him, “…and still not wanted to stop… if I regretted it.” My voice trembled. He stopped breathing. Literally. His chest pressed to mine, unmoving, as if my confession turned his whole world upside down. “If I regretted it, Veer…” I whispered, “…I wouldn’t be standing here, craving your mouth on mine again.” And that's it— I felt the pull.

INTEZAAR

In a time when radios played Lata's songs and letters carried feelings deeper than words ever could, she met him— on the first day of college, that was twenty years after India got independence. He wasn’t a freedom fighter, but he freed something in her. A smile. A feeling. A love she never dared to name. He loved sitars when the world had moved to guitars. He loved books, children, music... and she? She loved him. Quietly. Completely. From behind the veil of silence every sanskaari girl was taught to wear at that time. He was the boy every girl admired. She was the girl that quite girl who changed herself, bit by bit, just to be noticed. While he chased dreams and disappeared into the world, she stayed behind— with ink-stained fingers and a heart that beat only for him. She doesn't know where he is now. But she remembers the way he looked at her once, like she mattered. And now, decades later, all she has are her memories… and a diary that was never about her. It was always about Him.

DILOR'S 2ND GENERATION

Some love stories begin with a proposal. Theirs began with guns and goons. She ran away—wearing red, shaking in fear, chasing a man who never truly chased her back. But someone else did. He found her... not to rescue, but to claim. A powerful man with darkness in his eyes and her name stitched into every heartbeat. He forced a marriage. A temple. A gun. A wedding with no choice. She thought it was madness. He knew it was love. She swore to hate him while crying every day for someone else, whom she loved to the moon. He stood—silent, burning, and still. He gave up his dreams. She thought he ruined hers. He stayed close—never crossing the line, never revealing the truth. He kept her with him for days, for weeks, for months. Until one day... That day, he saw his love shattering and her teary eyes winning. He let his love win by letting her go. But what happens when she finds the truth outside? Hurts more than the cage she escaped? “Woh shaadi zabardasti thi… Par mohabbat toh sirf usi se thi.” And while she tried to escape fate, She was always running back to the one she was meant for. But while one bride was forced into love, Another forced love onto the groom. She dreamed of him since they met—every smile, every silence etched into her bones. He? Never looked her way. Never wanted this bond. But she said yes for both. A marriage born not from mutual hearts, but from stubborn hope. He stood beside her with a clenched jaw, not clasped hands. Cold glances. Long silences. She wore sindoor with pride, He wore the weight like punishment. Yet she stayed. Through his indifference. Through his absence. Because she believed that even unreturned love…Can someday soften stone. He tried to hate her. She chose to worship him. And in her prayers, somewhere… his heart began to ache. “Tumne jabardasti shaadi ki thi, par us mohabbat mein majboori nahi thi…” Two love stories. Both unwanted. Both unforgettable. And in their darkness… A strange kind of devotion bloomed. Not every fairy tale starts with a yes. Some begin with a no— That turns into the only truth they ever needed.

HIS INNOCENCE

"I can give you grandchild without marriage too mom" Mira said after listening to her mom's useless reason making everyone shock. Yeah???? "I...I mean adop...adoption you know" Mira stuttered but nervously smiled "Don't you love someone?" Janvi asked with pity in her eyes for her daughter. "Ab Is GenZ vale jamane me Dev Anand ya Sharukh Khan milna mushkeel ho geya hai!" Mira Said dramatically "You are way too filmy, ese toh koi nhi milega!" Neha told her with a knowing look. "Then I am happy single!" She told her. "Beta You Are Getting Old!????????" Janvi said to which Akhil choked on his food on other hand Mira's eyes widen in shock and Neha laughed loudly holding her stomach. Bezzati ???? *** She suddenly bumped into someone which made her lose her balance, she waited to touch the ground which never happened, someone hold her right hand and saved her. Mira opened her eyes and was surprised to find a familiar yet unfamiliar face infront of her, she was mesmerized by him. His face was calm, he had light beard, his brown eyes were hidden behind his frameless specs, he was looking descent yet hot in the black kurta with rolled sleeves, her eyes fell on his hand which was holding hers just to get more attracted by his veiny arm. She looked into his eyes again which were already looking at her making her heartbeat run like a rollercoaster. For Mira, everything stopped and the only song was playing in her mind. Tum bhi ho... main bhi Hoon Paas aao toh keh doon Aakhir kyun pal mein yun Diwaana main ho gaya Tumhe jo maine dekha Jo hosh tha woh toh gaya

Daughter In Law Of Raghuvanshi (Editing)

"What’s your name?” He asked her in a straight cold tone. Akshita and all the employees stared at him as if he was a GHOST, but he kept looking at her with an emotionless face. “Ask her for her name”, he ordered the girl, his voice indicating danger. “Wh…What is…is your name Miss?” the girl asked Akshita, stuttering out of fear. “Ak...Akshita” she replied, looking anywhere but at him, blinking her eyes to stop her tears. Fortunately, she was successful. What kind of woman would like it when her husband asks for her name, 4 months after their marriage! That too in front of all those people who know about their relationship? “Full Name” He commands. “Akshita Raghuvanshi”, she replies again. The girl’s eyes widened in realization. “I said FULL. NAME.” He ordered furiously, stressing on the last two words. “Akshita Ekansh Raghuvanshi” she replied again, this time looking down. The name itself gives shivers. “Mrs. Akshita Ekansh Raghuvanshi” He states every word clearly, looking at Akshita. She snaps her head towards him in an instant, shock and confusion evident in her expressions. Her full name, from his mouth, created a domination aura around the place. It gave her butterflies, his name with hers, as one.

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CHAPTER- 8

lostlakshi

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Drama toh khoon me hai

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She Drew Stars Around My Scars

lostlakshi

INTEZAAR

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DILOR'S 2ND GENERATION

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HIS INNOCENCE

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Daughter in law of Raghuvanshi (BONUS CHAPTERS)

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Daughter In Law Of Raghuvanshi (Editing)

lostlakshi