Sharing Life | ✓

24. Someone special

He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at her.

"What?"

"Nahi. Finish it. You are yet to complete today's quota of fight," he taunted.

She rolled her eyes and stayed quiet.

"Thank you for giving me a chance to explain. Earlier I tried to say that it is my first time to get a flower from a girl, that too on Valentine's day. So I—"

"Lair!" she snapped at him. "You get tons of flowers and bouquets at every party. Even from women. Aur phool dena, propose karna inn sab par copy right hain aap ladko ka?"

His glare faded into a sigh. First, different and weird are not same. A literature professor would certainly know this. But who would confront her? Again, who would tell her the difference between business associates & guests giving bouquets at parties and a girl–Priya–giving a Red Rose on Valentines? Besides what could he even explain to her when he himself was overwhelmed with multiple emotions? When finally he took a moment to think and understand, she kept on rumbling about gender equality, social gatherings and what not. He twitched corner of his mouth, his eyes lingering on her.

"Thank you," he interrupted to stop her rant. He pointed to the flower. "Aur jo tumne thank you kaha uske liye welcome."

She flinched. "Drop it. We should leave."

"No yet." He caught her hand. "It should be here any minute."

Before she could enquire about anything he got a call. He talked on phone about some hotel and guided route to Bakery. "Ignore the close sign, it's for customers. Come in." He ended the call.

"Such a simple address and he couldn't locate it," he muttered.

"I am surprised. You remembered some address. Wait, not some, Bakery's address," she teased, "Not bad!"

"Sangat ka asar," he replied. They laughed.

The delivery guy entered the café. He saw them and jerked to halt awkwardly.

It was then they realized he was still holding her hand. They glanced at each other, next at his grip around her hand. Instantly he left her hand.

"Why are you still standing? Keep the parcel and go," he scolded to him.

The man nervously shook his head. He kept the bags on the table to his right and rushed out.

They stole and averted each other's gaze. Neither of them said another word for several seconds. The awkward silence between the two broke when Priya enquired about the parcel.

"Oh yes," he brought the bags. "Dinner for us."

"Dinner?"

"Yes. And I wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Thanks, but this was not necessary."

"It was." He moved closer and showed his watch to her, "It is quite late. By the time we reach, everyone would be asleep. You will have food alone; I will have food alone; better we have food together," he suggested.

He noticed the uncertainty on her face and added, "It's entirely a different matter if you do not wish to have dinner with me, or dislike me or my company, or if you want me to have food alone. It's alright. I mean why would you or anyone bother to think about me, what I wish? Who cares?" he muttered and gazed away knowing it is the only way she would give in to his demands without arguing. Or less aruging.

"This is emotional blackmailing."

"Is it?" he raised his eyebrow. "Yet I don't think it's unreasonable."