My Childhood Crush [AR - Prequel] ✓

Conclusion

So I said I'd update on Wednesday, but my GRE went great as can be expected & I decided I'd much rather take rest of the day off to edit & post this rather than go back to working on the next deadline in to-do list. 

[Armaan]

My mother threw a spatula in my direction as soon as I entered the house through the kitchen entrance after basketball practice. "Maa!" I complained, barely catching it and then hopping from one foot to other as it falls on the ground to make sure it doesn't fall on my feet. "Did nani not teach you to not hit your children, especially on their birthday?!"

"Nani ke bache, what did you say to Khushi?" She demanded, pointing the knife in my direction, pausing from cutting the onions.

I burrowed my brows in confused. "What are you talking about?"

She informed, "She's locked herself in her room ever since she came back from school."

"What?" I grew concerned, picking up the spatula from the floor and returning it to her. "But why?" She gave me a pointed glared, causing me to defend myself. "I swear, maa. I haven't said a word to her."

"Go check on her then; she's not answering to me."

At once, I take off for the stairs to reach her room upstairs, taking two steps at a time. No matter how worse her depression has gotten over the year, she has never locked herself in her room because she knew that would worry our parents. It was the last thing she wanted. I knock on the door. 

"Doll?" I try to listen for any movement after I call her by the name only I call her by. I was met with utter silence. It was starting to worry me. I knocked again, convincing my mind that perhaps she simply hadn't heard me, or could have tried to take a nap. She wasn't much of a nap person, but given her nightmares and lack of sleep during the night, it could be quite possible.

When she still didn't answer after the fourth time is when panic really settled in. "Doll, come on. Just open the door. You're scaring me. Doll?" She was a light sleeper, so even if she had taken a nap, she should have woken up by now. There was no reason for her to not open the door anymore. Damn it, Khushi. Don't make me break open this door.

When my fifth series of knocks went unanswered, I walked into our shared bathroom to look for something to open the door. Finding a pin and some sharply pointing objects, I grabbed them all. I'd never done this before, but it couldn't be that hard.

'Khushi, last chance." I said in all nervousness but trying to sound confident and demanding. No answer. Well then. I got to work, and it's certainly not as easy as they make it look in the movies. It took a few long minutes to push the lock out and then rattle the knob enough to open the door.

At first glance in the room, I didn't find her at the obvious places: her bed or her desk. I stepped further in and she was cowering under the desk. What? I pulled the rolling chair out, revealing her shaking back and forth on her feet, legs pressed up against her chest and hugged her knees.

"Doll?" I questioned, not understanding anything at all. I reached forward, looking around wondering if there was some bug around that she was acting this scared and huddled underneath her desk.

She slapped my hand away just as it had barely brushed her elbow, "No! Get away from me! Don't – don't touch me."

Her head lifted off her knees to look at me, but her eyes seemed haunted. She wasn't really looking at me. She was telling me to get away from her, as if I were Vivek or Shyam. My jaw clenched, a different kind of hurt brewing at seeing my own sister not recognizing me, scared of me. "Khushi... hey, it's me. Armaan... it's just me." I tried to softly talk her out of it.