Drapetomaniac12

Two families. An arranged marriage. 
What could possibly go wrong?

A story filled with love, laughter and lots of embarrassment.
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"You can't find someone so pretty, smart, funny, stubborn, mature, childlike, fearless, shy, insecure, emotional, no bullshit; all at the same time."

"You're like a broken compass. You are either happy or just fucking annoyed with everything. Either way, you don't know exactly how you feel and what you want."

Despite not wanting to get married, when Naira's family insists her to tie the knot, she decides to give Ayan a chance. Cocky, friendly, and extremely attractive, he shares an unlikely trail of secrets that haunt his past and come knocking down his present. Getting kidnapped, temporarily adopting a seven-year-old, attending a marriage, making new friends... Naira does it all. Amid all the chaos, she'll find not only love but also herself.

"Your laugh wrinkles your forehead. It touches my foolish heart."

"You're like a book I keep on reading but can't remember. Every time I read, I find a new section, a new paragraph, a new sentence."

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The characters are both Indian and reside in Delhi as of now.

What a mess

"I blush whenever you're around."

Quickly brushing my teeth, I rinse my mouth and flick off the bathroom light, making my way out of the washroom and towards my bed.

Instead of being asleep, Tara is wide awake; sitting cross-legged on the bed and patiently waiting for me.

I sit on the edge of the bed, raising an eyebrow expectantly at her, "Why haven't you gone to bed yet? I told you to be asleep by the time I came back."

"I want to sleep next to Ayan!" she exclaims, making puppy eyes at me.

"Then do that..." I trail off, not liking the idea in honesty. "Do you want me to drop you off to his room? That's a weird request though. His room is right across-"

"No, stewpid," she facepalms, and I refrain from rolling my eyes at her. "I want to sleep with both of you."

"Not happening, girl. Get back to bed now," I order her and snuggle in the blanket. Patting the space next to me, I repeat myself.

Run, Run, Sunflower