Natasha

18- The lover

A constant thought ran in my mind amongst a million others that came and passed by everyday. Tried to push it away but in vain. It was like human body telling you that it needed water. It was that basic.

I loved her.

Scratch that, I was irrevocably and irreversibly in love with her.

That Natasha fucking Patil.

I swore it wasn't like that in the beginning. I was attracted, yes but more than that, I was intrigued. You wouldn't normally meet a woman who would kiss another guy to attract your attention or straight out confessed about having sex with you. My curious side wanted to see what else she was made of. What else she could show me? And disappoint, she never did. Not in bed. Not with her sassy mouth. Not with her confidence.

I was certain my curiosity would fade with time but it only magnified. More than that, I looked forward to spending time with her, especially after the night out episode. Sometimes I'd invite her to stay the night in my garage room, while other times, I stayed in hers. Those comfortable weeks days turned into months. I discovered sides of her— Her childish side, her embarrassed side, her vulnerable side— that she wouldn't otherwise, display in public. Before long, my curiosity transcended into feelings of attachment and affection. It wasn't something I signed up for but now, I regret nothing.

It irked me. This situationship of ours. More so after our perfect night at the farewell party. Were we seriously still going out as friends- with- benefits or was it a cheap rip- off of dating? I heard of the infamous more- than- friends- but- less- than- lovers tagline before, but I really wondered where Natasha and I fell into? I had no clue. All I knew that if I was told to ask her out right now, I fucking would. I was that ready. I wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of this ridiculous arrangement. I wanted the freedom to express my bucket load of feelings I buried, take her on dates, cuddle with her, hear her innermost thoughts.

And yet, I couldn't. Hell, I couldn't even breathe the word 'love' in front of her without passing it off as a sick joke.

My woman wasn't ready.

Natasha wasn't into dating. She told she loathed the drama and the silly gestures but I never bought it. Sure, everyone loathed those complications, yet they still fell into the pit, including me. Then why was she running away? What was it that held her back so much? I knew she was hiding things. A lot of things, actually. I tried to make her open up to me but she was tough as a tortoise shell. Would she ever open up to me in this lifetime?

“Just tell her,” Yash told me after I ranted it out to him. “I mean she's straightforward and all. You should be as well.”

“Mai iss raaste se aake bolunga, wo uss raaste se chali jaayegi (I'll come from the left to confess she'll leave from the right),” I replied, gesturing my hand towards the left and right simultaneously. Changing the tone of my voice, I mimicked, “Ah, is that so? I told you not to get whipped by me but you still did, dumbfuck. And you said women were emotional creatures, huh? Guess our arrangement is done then. Fuck off. Bye- bye.”

"Come on, she isn't that heartless."

"She is... She must be if she's still carrying on with our pointless arrangement, despite knowing there's more between us."

I smacked Yash's back when he continued on chuckling. Out of my freeloading gang of friends, only Yash was aware of the real relationship between Natasha and I. It happened on a drunken night when I deliberately confessed my troubles to Yash. I wasn't planning on telling anyone but the constant mockery from my brothers on being a lucky stud sickened me. An ideal couple? My ass.