18. With you

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Mahil :

"Naagin," Kuhoo uttered.

"Nagin," I repeated.

"Naaa," She mumbled.

"Na," I followed.

"Tch, What are you doing, Mahil? You forgot why we laughed? Keep that accent aside and say it in a more Indian way, will you?" She sighed.

"Nagin," I pressed my lips in a thin line as she acted out by throwing her hands in air listening to my pronunciation.

Looking at my defeated face, she chuckled, "Just how long have you been living here to literally loose the touch with normal hindi accent?"

"How long?" I frowned.

"I would like to know how many years will it take for me to have this accent. I'm here since three years but no luck. So tell me," She laughed.

"I was born here. Not here I mean. LA, I was born and brought up in LA." I reasoned.

Pulling the square shaped pillow over the thigh, resting right elbow on its satiny soft material, she turned more in my direction with her back on the sofa's arm after placing the coffee mug on the side table, "What? I didn't know that. Didn't your cousins tease you during your vacations in India?"

Clearing the throat, I rolled my tongue on one side, "Its... I haven't been there."

"Not even once?" She frowned.

Shaking my head in no, I stared at the floor.

"Mahil, are you okay?" She sounded apologetic.

I nodded. When I asked her for the coffee after Rahul and Riya's departure, I didn't wish for such awkward silences between us. But then I had no answers to her questions.

"My parents had a love marriage. Dad, he had always lived here. Mom, I'm certain she belonged to India. She was an Indian classical dancer. They met in this international event and fell in love. In our world, it was just the three of us." I whispered.

"You know how many members are there in my family?" She quizzed, probably trying to divert the topic. I was thankful for that.

"Let me guess, five?" I raised my brows to which she clicked her tongue, so, I added, "Six? Seven?"

She moved her head side to side making me wonder.

"Ten?" I clicked my fingers thinking I finally had the right guess. She still signaled in no and I huffed.

"Twenty one," She mumbled.

"What?" My eyes almost bulged out of sockets listening to her answer. "Are you talking about some extended family or that is actually the number of people who live under the same roof?"

"The second option," She chuckled as I chocked on the coffee and started coughing.

Coming to my side, Kuhoo patted my back in an attempt to cease the vigorous coughing. She quickly kept the coffee mug aside and continued rubbing my spine up and down as the corners of my eyes pooled with tears. I held her wrist out of reflex, probably trying to stabilize the centre of gravity. She didn't object rather focused on the work in hands, trying to ease my breathing back to normal. That is when I realized the distance between us or the lack thereof. She had moved closer to me, one knee almost touching ends of my jerkin, other leg hanging freely from the sofa, face a few inches from mine, neck slightly arched backwards. We weren't exactly looking into each other's eyes. I wasn't sure whether to complain or feel relived about it. Pervert, she would call me if she saw the way I stared at the pin-point mole on side of her neck, or how that soft skin stretched as she gulped.

"Feeling better? Breathe with me on each count. One. Two. Three. Four. " She took long breaths; I followed her lead, faint fragrance of sandalwood mixed with sweat hitting my nostrils, our bodies moving in a rhythm. Hair strands bounced on the sides of her shoulder as she turned to face me and my fingers etched to curl them around. How would it feel to run a hand through those jet-black hairs holding that face close to my chest? I couldn't help but glancing at those rose-pink lips, their curves strong enough to weave stories in my heart.

My own mind mocked me as my eyes shamelessly moved down looking at the way her chest bulged with each breathe, back bent in a sinewy wave. I closed them forcefully in order to block any insane thought coming to the mind. Did she care for all her friends this way or was it just me?

"Thanks," I uttered freeing her wrist. She moved away and I tried to calm my mind.

"I'm sorry. I should have let you complete the coffee first, didn't take you as a person to end up choking listening to my words though." Kuhoo sighed.

She probably did it all out of guilt, and I considered maybe I was a bit more special to her.

"Right, what were you saying, twenty one people? Where are they?" I continued.

"We have this huge house. Our family has stayed there for the last three generations, me being a part of forth generation now. Our home, it's crazy, I miss them," Her voice cracked a bit as she said the last words.

"At least you know they are there, happy in some part of the world. I don't have such luck," I said.

"Your parents?" She asked.

"I lost them ten years back, before moving to Chicago."

"I'm sorry," She whispered.

Her palm touched my one in an assuring way, "I can't even imagine losing them. You must miss them a lot."

"Every single day," I let out a breath.

"And your family, I mean anyone, a distant relative, an aunt, or your grandparents?"

I clicked my tongue, "Besides them, I had no one."

"Now, you have me."

She needed stop doing this, saying things that made my heart beat louder. I knew better than trusting such words after spending so many years alone. In reality you needed to fight your own battles to live the life, promises to stand by my side never held true in my case. But then with her I couldn't help but put my faith in those words, as ignoring the bells of danger ringing in my mind came naturally. I needed to stop putting so much weight to her words that her normal day statements felt like promises to me. But that again, wasn't easy given to the fact how my heart had started feeling around her.

It was two at night when Kuhoo suddenly stood straight realizing she had to leave, "Tomorrow is a workday. I should have slept long back. Good night Mahil."

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