sixty-three

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||CHAPTER 63||
《¤》

"What made you think that I have an obsession with miniature planes, Vika?" Arnav frowned, once he unwrapped the gift. "Mai iska kya karunga? Agar dena hi hai tho remote controls wale laa na."

"Tu kitna baqbaq karta hai," I complained, readjusting my head on his shoulders. It was four in the wee hours of the morning when my flight landed in Delhi, and I was sleepy. "Sone de!"

"Sone de?! Mai apni neend gawake tujhe pick up karne aya, and you say sone de?!"

He couldn't shut up, could he? "Drive tu kar raha hai kya? Chup chaap so naa fir!"

"Nahi, and tu bhi nahi soney wali hai," he pushed my head from his shoulder.

He frowned at me, I squinted my eyes at him. He cracked a smile, I hit his shoulders laughing. "You're not going to say it," his arms came around, as he slid to the further end of the seat, making me rest my head on his lap, "but I missed you."

"Bleh, whatevs," I shooed him with my hands, lying down in the backseat of our car. I was not going to say that back, so I just closed my eyes, and pulled my hoodie tighter around myself. Strangely enough, I did not like not having him around.

"Tune Mumma ko abhi taq nahi bataya na, tere is vacation ke baremein?" I heard him ask.

"Tere jaisa chugalkhor bhai agar merey paas ho, tho kis baat ki fikar?"

"No, dude," he said seriously, "you should tell her."

I yawned, "Arnav, we've had this conversation before. Let's not spoil the mood, now."

"Fine," he replied defensively, "Do whatever you want."

"Like sleeping for now? Good night."

¿¤?

When I woke up, the surroundings were not familiar. The bed was comfortable, too comfortable in fact, but it was not warm. My brother was seated on the bean bag, a container of Pringles open on the carpet on the floor, and his fingers typing profusely on the screen.

"I don't like this room," I informed Arnav. "Like, at all. The colour is yuck. This place is yuck."

He looked up from his phone, from the rose gold bean bag he was sitting on. "Stop being a brat. You like it, and you know it. I'm taking this bean bag, you don't deserve it."

I threw the graphic cushion at him, "I am not being bratty." I totally was, I just needed an excuse to go back to our old residence. "I mean, look," I pointed at the distance between the bed and my desk, "the bed is here, the desk is there!"

"Vika," he shoved his phone back into his pocket, "the dimensions of this room and your old room are the same. The only thing extra that you got and I did not," he spoke with mock contempt, "is that balcony."

"Kyoo? Teri Juliet feminist nahi hai kya? She won't climb in through the window for you?"

"Haha, very funny," he pulled my hair, receiving a hit in return.

I had slept through most of the day, and though the surroundings were different, it was refreshing. No, I still wasn't in favour of the shifting, but the bed was comfortable.

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