"I don't want to become the kind of Adwait who would rip every single skin cell off any man who dares to have even the faintest touch upon your skin," He placed a soft, lingering kiss on her earlobe.
Nitya's heart raced in response to his words. Sh...
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"For God's sake, would you fucking stop eating on my bed?" I grumbled.
Samar was sprawled across the mattress with carelessness and continued to munch on his snacks. His eyes were glued to the LED screen mounted on the wall. His constant cheering and groaning in response to the players' actions were only worsening my headache. But it wasn't enough to distract me from the crumbs scattered all over my once-pristine sheets.
He turned his head slightly, his mouth still full of chips, "Don't disturb me, bro. Let me see the match."
Giving up on trying to reason with him, I let the matter drop. Turning to the nightstand, I grabbed my phone again, hoping against hope that a message had come through while I wasn't looking.
Alas, as before, there was nothing to be found.
I sent some articles to Nitya with the hope that she would read them over the weekend so that we could discuss them in the university. However, she did not respond to my text, nor did she even seem to have read them.
I waited for her reply but it never came. For a moment, the suspicion crossed my mind that she had taken the drastic step of blocking my number but a quick glance at her profile picture indicated otherwise.
Had she simply not been online since I sent her those articles or was she deliberately snubbing my text?
Nevertheless, I knew in my gut that this was out of character for her.
"Damn it all!" Samar barked, snapping me from my trance and drawing my attention to him.
I followed his line of sight to the television and saw that another wicket had been lost, plunging the team into a dire situation.
My eyes reluctantly left the television and scanned the room eventually landing on the bed where a mess of snacks were spread across the crumpled sheets.
"Can't you eat like a civilized man?" I half-yelled. I couldn't resist the urge to grab a cushion from the sofa and chuck it at him.
He caught the cushion square in the face, causing him to sit up straight and glare at me. "Bro, this could've killed me. Are you that tired of me?" he grumbled.
I rolled my eyes in exasperation. How could he be so childish? A cushion killing him, really? I couldn't help but feel sorry for the innocent cushion caught in the crossfire.
I glanced back at my phone and found nothing new. Sighing, I placed it back on the table.
"What's with the constant phone-checking? Are you waiting for someone to call or text?"
Samar finally gave me his full attention. He turned off the television and shot me a curious look.
"Nah, it's nothing," I replied casually, trying to divert the conversation away from my phone.
