In Love with Devil - A Prachi-Ranbir Fan Fiction #Indian

Chapter 22

Prachi headed towards her designated room. Her pace was swift and forceful; as she walked back she keenly observed the uniform patterns and colour of the marble flooring. She stopped at once and scanned the entire space. Why was every damn object in this den supposed to be only black and white? - she reflected, with mild irritation. No, she was not possessed, neither was the colour of the house such a big deal for her. It was just that she was exhausted - exhausted from trying again and again. Well, technically nobody had asked her to poke her ass into someone's private space yet she did and had constantly made a fool of herself.

She pushed the half open door, lunged herself onto the soft mattress and sat in an alert position - contrary to the hour. The bedsheet crumbling within her fist was an indication of her rising temper; she glanced at her tightened fist for a couple of seconds and then with a deep sigh, slowly released it, letting the blood flow through her constricted veins, which left a pinkish tint on her palm. But wait, what was she exactly mad about? Was it because he conveniently disregarded her concerns over his safety? Was it because he didn't tell her about the damn place he was secretly visiting and didn't bother to even call her back when she was almost having an anxiety attack? Was it because he left her in the midst of the conversation, for which she had rehearsed countless times; when he showed up all injured? Possibly, she was fuming in terms of all such reasons which led to one root-cause, she simply couldn't deal with his indifference anymore. Neha was right all along; as she had enlightened her downright emotional and lunatic friend about this, when Prachi had merely begun to develop a crush on him. Great! Now she had one more added reason for self-loathing and guilt - She mused.

With that being said, she wasn't helpless, she wasn't weak, she wasn't dying to be his unpaid therapist and she was absolutely not seeking to bond with him specifically on the basis of similar traumatic experiences; at least not at the current stage of whatever equation she shared with him. But, she was determined - or maybe from the perspective of an iconic, toxic brown culture, she was just stubborn (proudly, if she could add!). Proudly stubborn to break through the walls - the walls he had surrounded himself with; to hide his vulnerability. For now, she had to go and give him her piece of mind, give him a taste of his own medicine regardless of his abusive attitude - before her brain decided to shut off completely. With anger and palpitation she took quick footsteps to reach the devil's den - however, to her surprise - he wasn't there. Obviously, why would he be? He had left the terrace a while ago and If only she was a little more quicker in coming back; she would have caught up with him and said whatever needed to be said from her end - she thought with hardened facial expressions and stiffly went for a quick search spree.

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Bedrooms, terrace, study room, lawn, main entrance - all these places which she had gained access to, in this highly limited amount of time; Prachi managed to check them all in search of him - unfortunately for her he was nowhere to be seen and now her growing body ache and strain on her injured arm was an indication that she needed to sleep immediately before she collapsed out of exertion. She took a deep sigh and headed to the kitchen to get some water. Even in the darkness within the house, faint patches of light of the night sky were obvious from the huge windows of the lounge and helped her navigate towards the kitchen. She reached for the light switch when a dark shadow terrified her and she dropped a few pieces of cutlery. She was about to scream when the light was abruptly switched on. "For heaven's sake!" - He was there... the devil was right there; once again, angered and .... shirtless!!

But, there was something else which she had failed to notice earlier. His muscular torso had considerable amounts of more deep cuts and bruises than his face and hands which she had just nursed, His body must be on fire. - she mulled. His hair was wet and slightly gelled, which meant he took a shower and had changed into his night pyjamas while she stood confused on the terrace all by herself, like an idiot; the light stubble on his Godly face, which wasn't really obvious to her until now and the familiar strong musk fragrance. All in all, she couldn't resist but acknowledge that the hotness of his majestic self had just increased to infinite levels.