"What is your favourite colour?" Esha asked, her fingers grazing her husband's jaw as she leaned back lazily against him on their couch.
"Green," he said in a blink, thinking about her in green. It was sight to watch his wife in green, their first m...
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I've never been to any of the parties thrown in my own house.
Sounds wierd, biased and shocking, right? Well, I myself feel odd with the information. Who doesn't attend the party at their own house?
Well, that's me.
Or it was me until today.
Because, everything did have a first, right? Let's consider today as one.
There's no specific reason to why I avoided these parties. And it's also not like I had a reason to be there.
I love everything I can do in the premises of the four walls of my room and kitchen. Be it dance, sing like banshee, read the never ending fictions, paint with my brushes, cook, bake and anything, you name it and if that's done in my room or kitchen I'd be there, period.
In short, I am a homebody.
But that never meant I'm an introvert. When I'm left between people, I try to create a conversation, get to know them and try putting them at ease even when I feel off. That's kind of like my nature, to blabber, that is.
Like the conversation I made last week with my future husband? Well, I'm not always that nervous. And yes, it's been a week since we met in the restaurant for the dinner.
Time flies.
To be honest, I'd been ecstatic after that one hour we spent together. I mean, all we did was just eat the dinner served and mind our business. Because after the initial conversation, we didn't have a big lengthy meaningful conversation throughout the dinner. It was just monologue questions or opinions shared in between the time we ate and the secret glances I took at him.
I hope he did too.
I mean, come on, I can't be the only one who's got this feeling. Can I be?
Head over heels?
Nah, that's not the correct way to address my feelings.
Sparks and twinkles?
Yes, that could be a definition.
I'd felt it. Not exactly the way I read in those fantasy books but similar, very much similar to it. The nervousness I felt around him was different unlike anything I felt. It was a comforting and weirdly warming kind of nervousness, one which I hoped on to feel again.
That takes us to square one, because today as I stand in front of the floor length vanity mirror of my room, dressed up in a royal blue anarkali, ready to attend my father's business party for the very first time ever, all I have in me and what pushed me to do so, is the hope.
Hope to feel the similar nervous warmth that embraced me last time. Hope to see him.
I know he's going to be there. He had been coming here for the business parties dad threw time to time, which I've so wonderfully avoided till date.
