Forbidden Mania

Mishka Basu's Pov~

The soft glow of the evening sun filtered through the windows, casting a golden hue over the living room. I sat on the floor by the large bay window, my knees drawn up to my chest as I watched the last traces of daylight fade into the horizon.

Delhi had a way of calming me in moments like this, the city's chaos melting into a gentle hum as the evening set in.

My father, Dr. Arun Basu, was still at the hospital. Being one of the most renowned surgeons in the city, he rarely came home before dinner, but I had long since gotten used to the empty house.

My mother had passed away while giving birth to me, and since then, it had always been just my father and me. We lived in a quiet neighborhood, the kind that felt both comforting and suffocating at times, but Arsh was always close by. His presence was the one constant that never changed.

Arsh Malhotra. The thought of him alone brought a soft smile to my face.

He had been my best friend, my protector, and my love since childhood. Growing up, we had spent every moment together-running through the narrow streets, getting into trouble, and dreaming of the future.

He had always been there for me, through every laugh and every tear, and I couldn't imagine my life without him.

I picked up my phone, my fingers instinctively scrolling to his number. We hadn't spoken all day, but that wasn't unusual. Arsh was busy, taking on more responsibilities with his family's business. Still, he always found time for me, no matter how hectic things got.

Just as I was about to call him, my phone buzzed. A message.

"I'm outside. Come up to the terrace."

I smiled. Of course, he was already here.

I slipped on my sandals and quietly made my way upstairs to the terrace. Our terrace had become our place, a refuge from the world, where Arsh and I could just be.

The moment I stepped outside, the warm breeze embraced me, carrying the scent of the evening's lingering jasmine. And there he was, leaning against the railing, his tall frame silhouetted against the dusky sky.

"Hey." I called softly, closing the door behind me.

Arsh turned to me, his familiar smile lighting up his face. "I thought you'd forgotten about me."

I walked over to him, shaking my head. "As if that's even possible."

He chuckled, pulling me into a gentle embrace. His warmth surrounded me, and for a moment, everything felt right. His presence had a way of grounding me, of making me feel like I could take on the world as long as he was by my side.

"You've been busy," I said, resting my head against his chest. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," he murmured, his voice deep and reassuring. "Work's been crazy. Mom's been driving me nuts about the business. You know how she is."

I pulled back slightly, looking up at him. His silver grey eyes met mine, and I could see the tiredness in them, the weight of his responsibilities starting to take a toll.

Arsh had always been the perfect son, the one who handled everything with grace and charm. But I knew him better than anyone. I could see the pressure behind that smile, the stress that his family's expectations brought.

"You need to take care of yourself," I said softly, reaching up to smooth a lock of hair from his forehead. "You can't do everything."

He sighed, leaning into my touch. "I know, Mishka. But I want to make things easier for Mom. Especially with, everything."

He didn't need to say more. I knew what he meant. His family was complicated, especially with his older brother, Raghav, in the picture. I hadn't seen Raghav much growing up. He lived nearby, in a house provided by their father, but he had always been somewhat of a mystery. Arsh never spoke about him openly, and I never pressed the issue. It was clear the topic caused him pain.

"Let's not talk about that right now," Arsh said suddenly, his tone lighter. "I came here to spend time with you, not to drown in family drama."

I smiled, grateful for the shift in the conversation. "Good. Because I need you to help me with something."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what's that?"

"I've been thinking about redecorating my room. It's so boring, and I need a fresh start. I thought maybe you could help me pick out new colors or furniture."

He laughed softly, pulling me closer. "Mishka, I have absolutely no idea how to decorate. But if you want my opinion, I'll give it."

"That's all I need," I teased. "Your opinion is more valuable than you think."

We stood there for a while, wrapped in each other's presence, talking about nothing and everything. The worries of the world seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of our shared memories. This was what I loved most about Arsh. No matter how heavy life became, he had a way of making it all seem manageable.

With him, I felt safe, like nothing could touch us.

As the sky turned from a soft orange to a deep purple, Arsh pulled me to the edge of the terrace, pointing out toward the distant city lights.

"See those lights over there?" he asked, his voice low.

I nodded.

"One day, Mishka, we're going to live in a house with a view just like that. Away from all the noise, where it's just you and me."

I smiled, my heart swelling at the thought. "You've got it all figured out, haven't you?"

He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "I've had this figured out the day I saw you for the first time. I'm just waiting for the right time."

I leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. "I don't need a fancy house, Arsh. Just you."

He tilted my chin up gently, his eyes locking with mine. "You'll always have me, Mishka. No matter what."

In that moment, everything felt perfect. The world outside could be chaotic, filled with complications and unanswered questions, but here, with Arsh, I felt like I had everything I needed. He was my anchor, my love, my future.

And as the stars began to twinkle overhead, I allowed myself to dream of the life we would build together. A life free of expectations, free of the weight of our families, just the two of us, standing side by side.

As the night deepened, a cool breeze swept over us, rustling the leaves of the old neem tree that stood tall in the corner of the terrace. The calmness of the evening was hypnotic, the city noises growing distant as if the world was giving us this moment of peace.

I shifted slightly, still wrapped in Arsh's embrace, watching the sky above. The stars seemed brighter tonight, twinkling like promises whispered by the universe. I could feel Arsh's heartbeat beneath my ear, steady and comforting, grounding me in a way nothing else could.

"Tell me something," I murmured, breaking the comfortable silence.

"What do you want to know?" Arsh replied, his voice a soft rumble.

"Where do you see yourself in five years?"

He chuckled lightly. "Is this an interview now?"

"Maybe," I teased, tilting my head to look up at him. "I'm serious, though. Where do you see us?"

Arsh's gaze softened, his eyes searching mine. For a moment, he seemed to consider his answer carefully, as if the future we had always dreamed of was just within reach.

"I see us together," he said quietly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on my arm. "Happy. Maybe traveling the world, or maybe settled down in that house with a view of the city lights. Wherever we are, as long as it's with you, I'll be content."

His words filled my heart with warmth, but there was a shadow in his eyes, a flicker of something unspoken. I knew Arsh better than anyone, and though he tried to hide it, I could sense the weight of his family's expectations pressing down on him. The Malhotras were a powerful name, and with that came a responsibility that I knew Arsh struggled with.

"And you?" he asked suddenly, his hand lifting to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Where do you see yourself?"

I smiled softly, leaning into his touch. "Right here. With you."

It was the simplest truth, and yet, in that moment, it felt like the most profound. I didn't care about the future as long as it had him in it. Arsh had always been my everything, the one constant in my life. Losing my mother at birth had left a void, but Arsh filled that space with his love, with his unwavering presence.

The distant sound of a car engine broke the silence, pulling me from my thoughts. Arsh glanced over the terrace railing, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Dad must be home," I said, recognizing the familiar hum of my father's car.

"I should probably get going," Arsh replied, though he made no move to leave.

I looked up at him, my fingers tightening their hold on his shirt. "You don't have to go yet. Stay for dinner?"

He hesitated, his expression softening as he looked down at me. "I'd love to, but..."

"But?"

"Mom's been calling," he said, sighing. "She wants me home early tonight. Something about a family meeting."

I frowned slightly but didn't push. I knew how things were with his family, especially with his mother. Arsh loved his mother, but there was always this tension, this invisible line he had to toe with her. And as much as I wanted to be a part of every aspect of his life, I knew his family was something we didn't talk about as much. Not yet, at least.

"Okay," I said softly, stepping back from him. "But you'll make it up to me tomorrow?"

His lips quirked into a smile, and he pulled me in for one last hug. "Tomorrow, we'll spend the whole day together. Promise."

I nodded, feeling the familiar tug of sadness as he pulled away. I watched him head toward the door, the evening shadows playing across his figure. Before he disappeared, he turned back, his eyes locking with mine one last time.

"I love you, Mishka."

The words were soft, spoken like a promise meant only for me.

"I love you too," I whispered back, the words lingering in the air long after he was gone.

As I stood alone on the terrace, the wind picking up ever so slightly, I let the moment settle around me. Arsh was my world, and in moments like these, I felt like the luckiest person alive. But deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was shifting, like the quiet before a storm.

"Mish?"

My dad's voice broke my trance and I went downstairs only to see him tensed. I immediately held his shoulder to comfort him.

"Is everything alright?"

"I saw Arsh leaving." He sighed and continued, "Look I know you are an adult but him coming our home and not talking about you to his parents is concerning Mish."

I retrieved my hand and couldn't say anything to my Dad who was making a point like any father.

"I know he loves you and you love him Mish but I don't want your heart to get hurt that's all." He said softly, and went to his room.

I sat on the counch and tried to breathe all the words he just said to me.

Arsh Malhotra's Pov~

I left Mishka's home and hopped in my car, the warmth of her goodbye still lingering on my skin. Her smile, the way she'd leaned into my chest before I kissed her forehead, it was those small, intimate moments I cherished.

Tomorrow is her birthday, and I have planned something special. I smiled at the thought, already imagining the surprise on her face when I'd show up at her door with flowers and a day full of plans just for us.

But as I drove back home, a nagging feeling settled in my chest. My mother had been oddly quiet all day. There were no calls, no meetings she dragged me into, which was unlike her. A day without her interference felt rare, almost suspicious.

The Malhotra estate loomed ahead, a sprawling mansion passed down through generations.

From the outside, it was a symbol of prestige and power, an architectural masterpiece of sleek modern lines mixed with traditional Rajasthani accents. Inside, however, it was a battlefield, a place where politics and personal agendas reigned supreme.

I parked the car in the driveway, the glow from the estate's massive chandeliers spilling through the windows. As I walked up the stone steps, I mentally prepared myself for whatever awaited inside.

My family was exhausting, to say the least. Everyone had an agenda, and navigating those waters was like walking a tightrope.

I pushed open the front door, the scent of incense and roses hitting me instantly. My mother's favorite. She believed it gave the house an air of grace and tradition, though I always thought it was just another way for her to assert control.

"Arsh, Beta, you're finally home." Came the smooth, measured voice of my mother, Sumitra Malhotra, as she appeared from the hallway.

There she stood, regal as ever, dressed in a soft cream-colored saree with intricate gold embroidery. Her posture was impeccable, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, not a strand out of place. Her face, still strikingly beautiful at fifty, was a mask of calm calculation. My mother was the epitome of grace, elegance and manipulation.

"Ma." I nodded approaching her and touched her feet, trying to gauge her mood. She put her hand on my head as a blessing, her eyes scanning my face as if she could read my thoughts.

"You must be exhausted after your... outing." she said, the slightest edge to her tone. She always had a way of making my time with Mishka sound trivial, like it was an inconvenience to her plans.

"It was fine." I replied, non-committal.

"I'm actually heading to bed. Tomorrow's-"

"Tomorrow is quite busy for you." she cut me off smoothly, as if she already knew what I was about to say.

"I've cancelled tonight's meeting. You'll be attending one tomorrow instead."

I stopped in my tracks, my brows knitting together.

"What? Why tomorrow?"

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"We have some important decisions to make regarding the business. I need you there. You're the face of this family, Arsh, and it's crucial that you understand every aspect of it."

I clenched my jaw. Tomorrow is Mishka's birthday, and I'd already made plans. How could she just cancel tonight's meeting and move it to tomorrow? It felt deliberate, like she was trying to control not just my time but my relationship with Mishka too.

"Mom, tomorrow's Mishka's birthday." I said, keeping my voice steady, but I could feel the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

"I've already promised her I'd spend the day with her." I spoke again.

Her smile faltered for a split second before she regained her composure.

"Oh, Arsh. Mishka will understand. Birthdays come every year. This meeting is about your future. It's about this family's future."

And there it was. The guilt trip. My mother was a master at it, always framing her manipulations as something done for the greater good of the family. She took a step closer, her hand reaching out to rest on my arm.

"You know how important this is." She said softly, but the steel in her voice was unmistakable. "You'll make it up to Mishka, I'm sure."

I felt a surge of anger, but I swallowed it down. Arguing with my mother was like fighting a losing battle. She always won in the end, and the more I resisted, the harder she would push. I'd seen her do it with my father, my uncles, even with Raghav.

Raghav. My stepbrother. He wasn't here, of course. He never was when it came to "important family matters." My mother had made sure of that. She tolerated him, barely, because he was a Malhotra by name, but in her eyes, he was an outsider.

She kept him at arm's length, reminding everyone that he was a product of my father's first marriage, someone who didn't quite fit into her perfect vision of the Malhotra dynasty.

"Where's Raghav?" I asked, trying to change the subject, though I already knew the answer.

Her eyes darkened slightly. "Not invited. You know how your father feels about him being involved in these decisions."

I felt a knot form in my stomach. My father, Ratan Malhotra, is a powerful man, but when it came to Raghav, he was indifferent at best. My mother had poisoned his mind against his own son, painting him as unreliable, unworthy of the family name. It wasn't true, of course. Raghav was smart, capable even, but he was never given the chance to prove it.

"That's not fair, Mom." I said, my voice firmer than before.

"He's still family."

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a faint smile. "Is he?"

I wanted to say more, but I knew it was pointless. My mother had made up her mind about Raghav long ago, and nothing I said would change that. I could already feel the tension rising in the air, a familiar weight pressing down on my chest.

I gave her a tight nod, brushing past her, heading for the stairs. I needed to get out of this conversation before it spiraled further.

As I reached the second floor, I spotted my father, Ratan, standing by the window in his study, his back turned to me. He was a tall man, with a broad frame that still carried the strength of his youth, though his hair was now more gray than black. He was staring out at the garden, lost in thought. I debated whether to talk to him about tomorrow, but I knew it would be futile. When it came to family matters, he deferred to my mother.

"Dad."I called, standing at the doorway.

"Arsh. Is everything settled for tomorrow?" He turned, his eyes distant but acknowledging my presence.

My heart sank. So he was in on it too. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I could feel the weight of the family's expectations closing in around me, suffocating any chance I had of spending the day with Mishka.

As I retreated to my room, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw Mishka's name light up the screen. My chest tightened. I didn't want to break the news to her, but I had no choice.

"Hey, Mishka." I answered, trying to keep my voice light.

"Hey." she said softly, her voice warm but with an underlying excitement.

"Just wanted to check if everything's still on for tomorrow." I closed my eyes at her words.

Opening it I started to say something but paused, guilt gnawing at me. I hated disappointing her, especially on her birthday.

"About tomorrow. Something came up. My mom's rescheduled a meeting I can't miss." I fisted my cell phone.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and when she spoke again, her voice was quiet, filled with a disappointment that cut through me.

"I see."

"Mishka, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you, I swear. Maybe we can celebrate the day after?"

Another pause, longer this time.

"It's fine, Arsh. I understand. Family comes first, right?"

The words stung, more than I expected them to. I wanted to tell her that she was family to me, that she was just as important, more important even, but I couldn't. Not when I knew what tomorrow would bring.

"I'll call you later." She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah. Later." I nodded, even though she couldn't see me.

As I hung up, I collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The pressure of being a Malhotra, of constantly balancing between family and Mishka, was suffocating. And tomorrow, of all days, I had to choose.

I already knew which side would win.

I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, the guilt gnawing away at me. Mishka deserved better. It was her birthday tomorrow, and I wasn't even going to be there. My mother had, once again, pulled the strings, effortlessly controlling my life like a master puppeteer.

But this time, I wasn't going to let her win entirely.

I grabbed my phone, glancing at the time. It was almost midnight. A crazy idea started brewing in my mind.

Midnight...

That was the perfect time to show up at Mishka's place. The thought of her surprised face, her eyes lighting up as I knocked on her door at 12:01, was enough to get me out of bed.

If I couldn't spend the day with her, I could at least be the first to wish her on her birthday. A midnight surprise might just make up for the disappointment I'd caused earlier. I could show up at her place right at midnight.

The excitement surged through me, making me sit up. I could still make it special.

Hell, maybe even more special by showing up at her door with flowers, a dress, and a ridiculous grin.

I jumped up, adrenaline pumping through my veins as the plan formed in my head. I quickly rummaged through my closet and found a Saree I bought for her last week. It was a deep red, something I knew she would look stunning in.

I grabbed a bouquet of fresh roses from the vase on my desk. They weren't the ones I had planned for her, but they'd have to do.

Sneaking out of the Malhotra mansion, however, wasn't going to be easy. My family had a security system that would rival Fort Knox, and the watch guards were loyal to my mother, not me.

But if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was getting my way.

I pulled on a jacket, grabbed my keys, and headed downstairs. The house was eerily quiet, everyone already asleep, which worked to my advantage.

I headed downstairs as quietly as possible. But of course, the moment I stepped out of my room, I was greeted by none other than Mr. Patel, the ever-vigilant guard stationed near the front entrance.

"Arsh baba, where are you off to this late?" He asked, eyes squinting suspiciously.

Think fast, Arsh.

"I, uh... I need to check on something. You know, important business." I said, trying to sound official.

"At midnight?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes." I said, leaning in conspiratorially.

"Midnight is the perfect time for business, no distractions, you see?"

Patel didn't seem convinced. He crossed his arms and blocked my path.

"Okay, okay." I sighed.

"I'll level with you. It's Mishka's birthday. If you let me out, I'll slip you a nice little bonus, and I'll pretend you never saw me. Sound good?"

Patel's eyes lit up at the mention of money. He looked left and right, then back at me.

"Make it a good one, baba." he whispered.

I fished out a wad of cash from my wallet and handed it to him. He grinned, unlocking the gate as if we were partners in crime.

"You didn't see me, Mr. Patel."

"Who are you again?" he replied with a wink.

But the two guards at the main gate would be a problem.

As I reached the massive double doors of the mansion, I slowed my pace and peeked outside. There they were, as expected, two burly men in crisp white uniforms standing at attention. They were chatting quietly, but I knew they'd stop me if I tried to leave.

I sighed, then grinned to myself. Bribery was always an option. And money talked, especially to people like them.

I slipped out quietly through the side door and made my way around to the front gate, approaching them with the most innocent smile I could muster.

"Evening, gentlemen." I greeted them, sliding a few thousand rupees into their palms.

"How about we pretend I was never here?" I raised an eyebrow.

The guards exchanged looks, their faces betraying a mixture of confusion and amusement. But when they saw the money, they nodded, slipping the cash into their pockets without a second thought.

"Have fun, sir. We'll make sure no one knows." One of them even winked.

"Thanks, fellas. I owe you one." I chuckled under my breath. I knew these guys were only loyal as far as the money reached.

With that sorted, I slipped through the gate, hopped into my car, and sped toward Mishka's house. The drive felt longer than usual, every minute ticking by in anticipation. I checked my phone. 11:45 p.m. I'd make it just in time.

As I parked a little way down from her house, I quickly checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. I wasn't going to show up looking like I just crawled out of bed.

My hair was a mess, but I ran my fingers through it a few times, trying to make it look at least semi-presentable. I took a deep breath, grabbing the bouquet and the dress before quietly getting out of the car.

Mishka's apartment building was nestled in a quiet neighborhood, and at this time of night, there wasn't a soul around. The lights were still on in her apartment, which means she is awake. Perfect.

I climbed the stairs two at a time, my heart racing with excitement. As I reached her door, I glanced at my phone again. 11:58 p.m. Cutting it close. I smiled, positioning the flowers and the Saree in my hands.

And then, right as the clock struck midnight, I knocked.

There was a moment of silence, and then I heard her soft footsteps approaching the door. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could barely contain the grin on my face.

The door creaked open, and there she was, Mishka, standing in her pajamas, her eyes half-lidded with sleep but quickly widening in surprise.

"Arsh?" she whispered, her voice a mix of disbelief and confusion.

"Happy birthday, Mishka." I said, stepping forward with a flourish.

"I know I couldn't be with you tomorrow, but I figured I could still be the first to wish you." I quickly apologised.

Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of shock and delight.

"You... You came at midnight?"

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it for the world. And, I brought you something." I held out the bouquet of roses.

Her gaze fell on the Saree draped over my arm, and her mouth dropped open. "Arsh, this is-"

"Beautiful, I know." I interrupted, grinning.

"But it'll look even better on you. Try it on tomorrow. I'd love to see it."

"You're impossible, you know that?" She stared at me, her cheeks flushed with color.

"Only for you." I replied with a wink, stepping inside as she moved back to let me in.

"How old are you again?" I teased her as I looked at her apartment for the millionth time with the same warmth.

Her apartment was small but cozy, with a lived-in warmth that made me feel instantly comfortable. I looked around, taking in the small touches of her personality scattered throughout the room, books stacked on the coffee table, soft blankets draped over the couch, and the faint smell of vanilla hanging in the air.

"Arsh." She hit my arm lightly and continued.

"I was about to go to bed." she said, rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn.

"But I'm glad you came." I raised an eyebrow.

"Where's Baba?" I asked as I looked for a place to place bouquet and the Saree.

"Emergency." She muttered, but her widened immediately when she looked at my smirk.

"No." She mouthed and I huffed.

"Waise tum agye han?" She said again meekly.

( so You came huh?)

"I had to. I couldn't stand the thought of not being here for your birthday." I said as I set the flowers and dress on the kitchen counter, turning to her with a sheepish smile.

She gave me a playful nudge. "You bribed the guards, didn't you?"

I laughed, holding up my hands in surrender. "Guilty. But I had to. They were in my way, and nothing was going to stop me from seeing you tonight."

"Aap bhi na, kaisi kaisi harkatein karte ho sachme." She whispered and shook her head, but she was smiling, her eyes filled with a warmth that made my chest tighten.

(Even your actions are impossible.)

"Tumhe bhi to isi Arsh se pyaar h." I teased, stepping closer to her.

(Yet you love this Arsh a lot.)

She didn't deny it. Instead, she stepped into my arms, resting her head against my chest. The feeling of her so close, her soft breathing and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, made everything else fade away.

We stood there in silence for a few moments, just holding each other, and I realized this was all I needed. Just her.

"Thank you for making this birthday special, even if you can't be with me tomorrow." she murmured, her voice soft.

I tightened my hold on her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm sorry about tomorrow, Mishka. I wish I could be there."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at me with those big, brown eyes. "You're here now, Arsh. That's what matters."

"Apke liye kuch bhi." I whispered and hugged her again.