"I'm not your brother." A devil smile played on his lips.
Elevating the right brow, I asked, "What do you mean?"
My hand clenched the beer bottle as his gaze intruded into mine.
I hated him. I told the ugliest things of my life to him. I confessed...
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"You were unsure
which pain is worse--
the shock of what happened
or the ache for what never will."
I didn't expect to see a half naked girl in the kitchen when I had woken up.
I had a plan of drinking a cup of green tea, go to jogging, get ready and then go to college and waste my time. But life had a different plan for me, one which was awkward to comprehend. I saw a half naked girl, roaming, and cooking.
I should start wearing goggles at home. First headphones, now this. How many things you sacrifice for your family
Coughing, I asked for her presence, and she jumped. Seeing her shocked, I covered my laugh, and went ahead to heat the water, but Alina shoved my hand away from the stove and laid a cup in front of me. Ah, my green tea.
"I woke up early today."
Taking the cup, I took a sip, and roamed eyes to her messy hair, oversized t-shirt--probably of Kabir and bare feets.
Smirking, I said, "I can see that very well." Wiggling my eyebrows in a teasing manner, I put the cup on the marble top and stood close to her. "Did you even sleep?"
Redness coated her face, and ignoring me, she paid attention to her cooking. I could ask her how was her first time, what happened, how she felt and was the guy good in bed, but restrained myself from asking, remembering the guy was none other than my brother and I had no desire to know how he was in bed. Like I said last night, it was disgusting.
Changing the track of my mind, I paid attention to her cooking. "What are you cooking, my dear bhabi?"
Directing a dirty glare to me, she flipped the parantha. "Kabir told me about the latest cooking habits of you both Noodles in morning? Are you both mad? Don't you care about your health?" I gave her a sheepish smile and smelled the tasty aloo parantha. No jogging. I was going to eat today. Like a small child, I ran to the cabinets and took out the plate, and went back to the counter.
She laughed at my antics and served the parantha. Hungrily, I took a bite, and suddenly the first thought I had was of mom. She used to make same like this. Crushing peas into potatoes, making it crispy and a bit spicy. And the swallowing became hard. I hadn't had those in past six months. No more inhale them in the morning, acting all happy around mom whenever she would serve me in the bedroom when I used to study till late. I wish she was here, cooking for all of us again. She loved cooking for us. She loved when we all used to sit around the dining table, shouting and laughing.
I never appreciated her cooking for me. I never felt thankful how despite having her own life, she made sure my stomach was full. I never get to say thank you, mom, for always cooking for me even when I was rude to you.
