YA' ABURNEE

Chapter 9

The dinning room was dimly lit. Five or six candles were lit on a candle stand at the middle of the dinning table. On a small oval shaped oxidized bowl, rose petals were floating on the surface of the water it carried. Just beside this bowl, two different sized bowls were placed with the glass lid on. I was having a perfect view through the glass lids. Kacchi Biryani and Rezala, of mutton I suppose.

These are one of the Mughlai preparations; very common across Bangladesh. Extremely flavourful and intensely fragrant. And not to mention, one of my favourites.

Even though the dishes were covered, the smell was inevitably infiltrated to an extreme. My smelling glands has already sent in the signal and with the memory of how these taste I was salivating.

I never took Umair for someone insanely romantic. But this whole arrangement were screaming something similar to that. Heck, I didn't even know the bulb of our dinning room could be lit in two different ways!

There he sat, on a chair, with the signature smirk on. He was enjoying my enjoyment, with the twirl of emotiions in his eyes I could easily tell. Or may be it was the candles and I was desperate.

Food makes me desperate, to another level. I cannot tell how spiritually I was connected to food ever since I gained the sense of taste.

I didn't know how Umair pointed this attribute of mine out. But I was thankful, no correction-on cloud nine that he did. After such a hectic day, I needed this, I needed him.

An automatic smile appeared on my face. "When did you do these?"

"These?" He gestures to the candles and flowers. "Just as you texted you'll be late."

"And when did you learn to cook?" I inhale a lung full of fragrance. "The smell! Oh my!" A small irresistible whimper escapes my mouth.

I didn't realise when he got up from his chair and came close. When I opened my eyes, done with my food ecstatic state, I found him mere inches away. Hovering over me, his eyes fixed on mine. My breath hitched as I stared into his. Too scared to try and decipher the need in those.

He bent down. For a moment I stood still as if my legs were cemented to the ground. With big shocked eyes I watched as his lips neared mine. Just when I was about to close my eyes, he escaped the route to my lips and breathed down my jaw line to my ear.

"I wish I had cooked these," His breath tickling in my left ear, sending shockwaves down somewhere forbidden. "Then that moan would've been for me." My heartbeat wrecks, causing my legs nearly go limp.

With that he stood straight.

What?

Why?

I was expecting something more.

As realisation settled in, I felt blood rush to my cheeks. I wanted him to do something more? Oh thank goodness he cannot read minds.

Or may be he can? With him staring down at me intensely, I contemplated if I said something aloud. His smirk appeared as if he was entertaining himself at my restlessness.

In no way he knows what is running in my head. Does he?

Heat crept from my ears. I could feel his intense gaze on every part I assumed a tint of shame has appeared on.

"Don't you want to go freshen up?" He asked, breaking me from my reverie. His eyes still holds something mischievous.

"Yeah-yeah! Right. I'll go and freshen up." Why didn't I think of this escape route earlier!

Idiot!

I took my sweet time with shower. All of my fatigue finally disappear as I finished my shower, if not after smelling the food. As I was fumbling through numerous comfortable cloths I usually wear, I don't know why I settled for something like this.

It was a red figure hugging dress. Down the waist it was flowy. The hem of this dress reached under my knees, making it a perfect fit to wear with both flat sandals or pencil heels. The prolonged square neckline extending till the swell of my chest; giving off a perfect-for-dinner-dates vibe. Medium bare back and cuffed peasant sleeves of it let it have a modest and mild yet ostantetious and grandiose look.

I let my still wet hair loose. I'm not a blow dry person and towel drying my hair was not a fast job to accomplish considering its length. So why take the pain when I can look actually good the way it is?

I twirled looking at the reflection in mirror. Perfect.

Why am I doing this?

Because the arrangements he did is making it impossible to dress in rags and go there looking ramshackle.

Then what were you being all these days? You walked around the house looking like a thousand year old cave man.

Yeah...true. But all those times I considered myself nothing but a paying guest. Now that he seems to find something interesting in me after all these months, why don't I show him what's more there under my sleeve?

Oh! And what about those long-arse-speeches of pride and watching him carefully?

Don't be such a kill joy. Its not as if I were doing something illegal. We're lawfully wedded.

I knew it. I knew you'd get down to your knees before him and his looks.

There's no harm in letting loose sometimes. We take on life really hard often.

Debating with my fractious judgement, I unlocked the door and went out.

He got up from his chair as soon as he noticed me. His eyes dazzling in the dim candle light. He walked towards me as if he were spellbound and I had the flute of Hamilton's.

I liked the feeling of affecting him. This six foot strong built man made me feel powerful with his hypnotized look.

Suddenly I laughed. I was really finding it all funny.

"What?" He asked bewildered.

"I feel silly." I laugh more. "The dishes doesn't go with the way I'm dressed. Even you're dressed in your sweats. It feels funny."

He gently takes my hands in his, still mesmerized, and kisses the palms. "If only you knew."

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