I was on a verge of closing my eyes as sleep was demanding it's the daily dosage. A Snap-On my head is all it takes to return to the real world from the entrance of my dream world. It's my mother's handy work after all.
"Look at you, so beautiful" his mother beamed at me. I gave her a small strained smile.
I actually look beautiful with all the jewelry and stuff, but I want him to know the real me, not the artificial version of me.
'Shut up, Sreesha, you of all people know men admire the beauty. Outer beauty, not inner beauty. He will be just like others don't you dare let your hopes high' my conscience chided me.
As they said in some advertisement 'Men will be Men'. After all my ex-belonged to the same category.
"It's time to meet your husband dear" my Mother-in-law shook me gently. I nodded standing up.
When I was in front of what I assume his room, my mother's grip hardened on my wrist again. This time I didn't flinch because there is a hell in the room waiting for me, what can a little pain hurt?
"Remember what I said earlier, Sreesha. I mean every word I said" I nodded again feeling numb.
My Mother-in-law opened the doors gently leading me to a room which is decorated completely with red roses. My favorite flower. I generally love flowers a lot, but Red roses make me smile every time I look at them.
His mother made me sit on his bed arranging the sari properly. My mother covered my face with a heavy veil which weighs a ton.
My mother left first giving me a warning look, but my mother-in-law stayed beside me, her eyes trained on me.
"You don't have to worry about anything, Sreesha. I raised my son better than you think" she said patting on my shivering hand which is gripping the bed sheet like it's life depended on it.
I don't know what her words meant. she must be like those moms who turns a blind eye to their children's mistakes. Who knows what he had been doing all these years behind her back?
"You will be fine" she added leaving the room, closing the door behind her.
After a few minutes, the door to the room opened revealing a six feet silhouette as the room is dimly lit.
I started hyperventilating. Every fear that has been haunting me have surrounded me now. I feel like I was in a small hole with a limited oxygen supply.
"Sreesha" His voice made me jump in fear. I wanted nothing but to crawl into those shadows where he would never find me.

Sreesha Pov:

"Sreesha" he called me again.

A chill ran through my spine by just hearing his voice. I can sense that he was coming my way and I can feel the sweat forming in my palms. He stopped just a foot away from me, his voice didn't do any good, I was a trembling mess.

I gulped down the gasp when he tried to reach my hand. Just when he was about to touch it, I flinched a little, that stopped him.

Rejected!

I rejected his touch... and he is aware of it. I closed my eyes waiting for some harsh words or a slap. My mother said men can get angry when they face rejection.

I sense the bed sink a few inches away from me. I closed my eyes tightly not willing to see his enraged face. My grip on the sheets tightened as well.

But to my surprise, his voice greeted me instead of his hand "Sreesha, please look at me" his voice was as soft as a velvet cake with a hint of huskiness to it.

We can always compare the huskiness with some extra whipped cream *dreamy sigh*

"Please" he added. This time I accepted his wish, I can't deny him anymore. He must be having a hard time controlling his anger on me. I sent a prayer to God to lessen his rage before he starts dealing with me.

I opened my eyes slowly like I was just out of eye surgery and making sure my eyesight was clear. I sighed;

I get these weird ideas all the times. First Velvet cake then whipped cream and now eye surgery?

My conscience plays a weird role in my life from the very beginning of my life, it is the sarcastic side of me which makes an appearance when it's not needed the most.

I was met with a pair of most beautiful chocolate brown eyes I had ever seen, which were looking at me curiously. I lowered my gaze immediately, remembering my mother's words.
Lower your gaze when you're talking to your husband, it is a sign of disrespect.

"Can I hold your hand, Sreesha?" He asked making my grip hard on sheets "please" he added. I nodded still not sure why he was asking me when he can do whatever he wants.
I gasped audibly when his hand met mine, I didn't feel sparks and electricity like they mention in those Romance books. It was slightly different, I feel secured and comfortable with his touch so, just like that, I released my grip on the bedsheets allowing him to take my hand into his.

His touch was soft and caring, that is not something I imagined. I thought it would be rough, harsh or powerful.

He started caressing the back of my palm with his thumb, igniting a small hope in my dead heart.

Hope for what?

"Now that you're breathing normally, I hope you're fine. Can we talk now?" He asked still caressing my hand. I nodded.

"I'm sorry," he said, I almost heard the crack when I lifted my head swiftly. I sure would have sour neck tomorrow.
Did he just say sorry?

"I'm sorry, I didn't ask your consent for our marriage," he said looking straight into my eyes, this time my gaze did not falter. The look in his eyes was sincere, after making sure he wasn't joking, I nodded. I thought he would laugh at me saying it was a fake apology, but I did not find faking in his voice nor his eyes.