The courtyard was alive with colour. Saffron, indigo, and rose clouds floated through the air, laughter rising in waves as music pulsed from the dholaks.
Ruhanika stood at the edge of it all, dressed in a sheer white chiffon saree that clung to her like second skin. The fabric shimmered under the spring sun, translucent where it had already soaked from playful splashes. Her hair, usually pinned neatly, cascaded down her back, the tips tinted crimson from an earlier encounter.
Write a comment ...