Just then a familiar hand gently caught her wrist. Before she could turn she was lightly pulled around. She looked up. Ryker stood before her. His ivory embroidered kurta with understated royal elegance, that carried the effortless charm of a man whose presence speaks louder than word now carried streaks of yellow. Both cheeks were lightly covered in haldi. He looked at her silently. While she glows beside him in a radiant mustard-yellow ensemble adorned with delicate silver embroidery, her flowing dupatta and soft curls add warmth to every step. She couldn't help it. A bright giggle escaped her. Then another. Pointing toward his face, she smiled mischievously. "Dekhiye, hum toh ekdum saaf hain." Her eyes sparkled with innocent triumph. (Translation: See, I'm so clean.) "Accha?" He asked amusingly. (Translation: Really?) He looked at her spotless cheeks. Then at her satisfied smile. A faint glimmer appeared in his eyes. Without a word he stepped closer. Close enough that
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