His Unloved Bride

✿ TO BE CLOSE TO HIM ✿

ALAIA

"You don't have to—" I tried to hide my smile.

"I don't have to what?" He asked.

"Agastya, stop teasing me please." I narrowed my eyes playfully.

He threw his hands up in the air and then took a step back. "Okay."

I was trying to bake some fresh bread at home so that I can serve it with the soup that Agastya's making. We've been in the kitchen since past one hour and this man is trying his best to cook. I really want to ask him if he ever cooked anything before apart from instant noodles or popcorns because the way he's trying to chop spring onions,  I'm curious. He's trying his best to impress me with his cooking skills but who's gonna tell him that I'm more than impressed by the mere fact that he doesn't consider cooking as a gender biased thing. That only women belong to kitchen. My father and brother not for once stepped inside the kitchen. They just couldn't enter the kitchen even if the women of the house were ill or dying up in sickness.

I rolled the kneaded dough and took some extra flour. "You think kneading a dough is easy, huh?" I raised my brows at him.

"Let me try at least." He said.

"Go ahead." I shrugged.

He grabbed the glass full of water and emptied it all over the floor and then tried to knead it. But it turned out to be sticky. He furrowed his brows in confusion, looking at my dough and then back to his. "Why it doesn't look like yours?"

I bit back my smile and secretly caught the glimpse of his confused face which looked undoubtedly cute. He was comparing our doughs, his frown deepening every passing second. He rubbed his forehead from the back of his hand and unconsciously flour sticks to his face.

Then he turned to me. “You were right. It isn't easy.”

“Uh, there's flour on your face.” I pointed.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand only to smudge it further.

“May I?” I asked for his permission and when he gave me a small nod, I get on my tiptoes and instead of dusting the flour away from his face, I grabbed a handful of flour and rubbed it all over his face.

“What—” He whispered in disbelief.

A laugh escaped pass my lips when I saw his face completely covered in white powder. He patted the flour away and then launched himself on me, rubbing it all over me. I yelped, running away from him as he grabbed more flour.

He followed me. “Wait, till I catch you.”

“No, please. I just took a bath.” I said in between my laughter and ran outside.

“You mean I didn't have a shower before?” He asked, trying to catch me.

“I mean— no.. .” I gasped when he cornered me to the nearest wall and then rubbed the flour all over me. “Agastya.” I yelled, narrowing my eyes at him who simply laughed in return.

I swear I was going to admire his laugh but then I realised the proximity of our closeness. He had his arm wrapped around my shoulders, our chest almost touching, his face merely breaths apart from me.

I blinked, my heart beating rapidly. He looked into my eyes and something struck at him, maybe he realised it too. We've been never this close before, not even when we were dancing last night. If anyone of us moves an inch, our chest will collide. We both freeze at our place, our gaze interlocking; from brown to black. My heart was racing and so was his. I didn't dare to blink and neither did he. I wetted my dry lips, reaching for his face and then gently I wiped the flour from his cheekbones. His eyes widened a little at my gesture but then he did the same to me; he creased his thumb over my face. I inhaled sharply, strands of hair on my neck rising up. Ever so slowly, he traced his thumb along my jawline making me shiver in delight.