Not A Simple Engineer Boy!

Seventy Seven: Photo Frames (Part 4)

"How can you cook like this!", Krithika exclaimed eating her favorite Vatha Kolumbu with rice and Appalam, "We, women, are trained from childhood yet I hate every bit of cooking. Plus you are not even a Tamilian, how do you know all this!"

It had been a long time since she had a proper tasty home-cooked meal, except for the time when she had gone to Satya's place for Pongal. But she had shown some semblance of etiquette and hadn't been a complete shameless fool. She had wanted to ask them to pack a big dabba for dinner that night but the social fairy part of her brain had kicked out any intrusive thought. Good for her, she hadn't humiliated herself.

Also, he had made it difficult for her to enjoy the food, erasing her appetite with his extra-sexual appeal, and her gutter mind had completely gone frenzy with a different kind of appetite.

"Wow."

This kind of food was absolute bliss. Her P. G. owner had appointed a crazy chef who daily cooked potato curry or random shit which tasted as bland as crematory ash. With no other option of survival, she was now used to shove it in like her stomach was nothing but a garbage bin. Starving to death wasn't a working guide for her ambitions nor did she have time or energy to cook after her full-time job.

"Ponnamma helped me out, she's been my chef for a few years now.", he answered while eating a spoonful of rice.

She moaned as she ate a morsel of Beans Poriyal, "Lord Muruga! Please call Ponnamma, I want to kiss her."

He looked at her, "She already left. You can kiss her sous chef, he would be delighted by such acknowledgments.", he winked suggestively.

She rolled her eyes and continued gobbling her food. She noticed how proper he was, eating with fine cutlery and a napkin on his lap. Smiling, she licked rice from her index finger, "You are eating with a fork and spoon.", she pointed out, "What are you, a lost prince of England?"

"Believe me when I say that this is a habit I have recently developed.", he waved his spoon in the air, "When you frequently travel abroad, people call you unhygienic for the stupidest thing."

"Yeah, and then wipe their dirty ass with tissues, funny."

Xavier chuckled, "Touché"

She shook her head, smiling at his remark, "Do you understand Tamil?"

"A little bit and that surely is not enough to survive here in Chennai.", he served her some of the Poriyal and continued, "I am learning from Dhanya, she has promised me that she'll make me read her favorite Thirukkural soon."

"Challenging, but good. I thought Malayalis could easily learn Tamil.", she shrugged.

"The Malayalis who are fluent in Malayalam probably could learn faster.", he added, "I, on the other hand, know only curses and a few not-so-polished words in Malayalam."

"Really?", she asked in disbelief.

"Yeah.", his face had lost the bright charm that had been there a few seconds ago, and she concluded that it was the start of a sensitive topic for him, "I grew up in a small town in North India and most of the days I had stayed in my friend's house.", he bit his lip straining something that she wasn't able to guess, "I am fluent in Marathi than Malayalam."

"Alisha is Maharashtrian?", she asked in a beat.

"No.", he shook his head, his eyes trained on his plate, "Iksha is, her parents used to take care of me most of the days."

"Okay."

She could feel the shift in the environment. A few minutes ago, they were poking fun, enjoying a great dinner and now it felt like a bomb was dropped over the dining table, splattering all the joy away.

"Sorry, if I hurt you. I wasn't intending to pry, it was just... I am so sorry.", she mumbled.

He stared at her, "No, sweetheart. I would very much like you to pry, question me about the things you want to know. Some things are hard for me to share, and I might not be willing to tell you immediately but...", his eyes had turned into a shade of golden brown, "I want you to trust me as much as I... I trust you."

Do I love him?

She took her glass of water and drank slowly, holding his steady gaze all along. She couldn't feel anything at that moment other than the frantic beating of her heart, it was too loud, painfully deafening.

Do I love him?

He tore his gaze away from her, "Eat, sweetheart, there's something special for the dessert."

Do I fucking love him?

--

A/N

How many languages do you guys know?

I can understand a lot of Indian languages, especially North Indian, as I have spent most of my years in a small town in North India, but I am a South Indian (Tamil) XD

Whenever people fight about which is best, North vs South, I am like but but... I love both :*

"Naan Nee" is a blissful melody by Santhosh Narayanan, man, he is an absolute gem.

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