Unspoken feelings are unforgettable

Chapter 21

Flickering smiles crossed them as they walked together. At the least of their respective paces, trying to match one another's snail-walk. Feeling the tension increase, the string that has always held them together which has forever been lose enough to allow them some distance tightening. Tushant wants to touch her. Again. And she wants to feel him. Again. But why does wanting it feel so incorrect? Incorrectly appropriate. 

They keep away till he is waving at her on the entrance. They keep away as he tells her that she looked at unease. She then told him that he looked so too. Why don't you come up? She asked him. Your family is not in a condition to have visitors, he answered. The tension in that string getting tighter, it is growing unstretchable. Mom would be glad instead. She implied and it got impossible to walk away because it still felt early to him. Tushant agreed. They walked in, Arisha called out for her mum, no answer. Her room was barren, squeezing in the smell of cigar. She slid open the windows and the balcony. Called out for Riya again. No answer still. 

The realization struck her, too late. Riya wasn't home, and it was equally irrelevant and concerning. Clearing the living room or the kitchen was unrealistic. She went back to the door and offered him a smile. 

"Mum isn't home. Sorry. But you could come sit for a while" She informed, gesturing at her misplaced house. He nodded and reflected back the smile. Tushant got rid of his shoes, and so did Arisha. Almost shoving it into the cupboard. She does everything to not let his eyes wander the house. Not realizing she doesn't even need to put in effort to achieve it. She straightaway leads him to her room. Comparatively, it is more presentable. The strawberry sticker at the door makes him grin. But there was nothing Arisha could do to keep him from scrutinizing her room. It was just so Arisha. Guitar, books, pink, and more books. Blue glaze guitar and black glaze guitar. Clothes and headgears. Her intriguing  smell and the mess. Nothing about her room is perfect, but it feels cozy. He's already imagining her here, combing her hair before the mirror. Reading on her desk, or playing her guitar by the window. 

"Hey, say something" Arisha says.

"You read romance?" He asked, tracing a heart printed on the cover of one of her books. Letting out his first words since he's stepped foot inside the house.

"I write some too"

A his lips spread into a grin, "You like romanticizing things?"  

"I do"

"Have you ever romanticized this?" 

"This?" of course, I do it all the time.

"Us? You and me? In your room, sitting across from each other?"

Suddenly her heart is taking pace. He's indirectly asking her if she has imagined a story with him. A romantic one in particular. 

"Yeah" Her eyes tinkling in the most amusing way, "It was just you and me, sitting across from each other in my room. And I step closer to you, so very close you don't even like it"

"Not possible"

"Listen to me. And then I reach with my hand," She has mimicked her words and seriously stepped very close to him. Reaching towards him, with her hand, "And I grab my phone from the desk behind you before it's over" 

"Heart-breaking-story"

"Will you play subway-surfers?"

"Seriously?" A single nod for a yes and double for right now. Hers is a double nod, "But first off, I'll try the scene" 

Try the scene?  "I'll be the judge then" This added up a smirk to his already smug expression. 

"You'll give it a ten" Arisha propped down on the bed, with all of her undivided attention focused on this one boy. Why does it feel like a beautiful day now? Tushant follows her, taking a seat on her pink messy bed, and makes sure she sits right across from him.