Key To Their Hearts

50- Eye's On Her

Typed On- 22/10/2019

Chapter 50- Eye's On Her

Unknown POV

There's a difference between wanting something or someone—in some people's cases—with belief and prayers, which some believe go passing into the God up there. I don't see him. Or her. SO I don't ask. I snatch.

There's this girl. Keyword; Is.

So let me get this straight. She's dumb. But in a cute way if that exists? Would you accept that description? Dumb yet cute? I don't care. Neither should you. Because my opinion only matters to me, end of story.

See, that's the problem. My story hasn't even started for it to end. She doesn't know me. My name, my address, my number or my occupation. But I know hers. Small world. And in this fucken polluted place with one point three billion people I stumbled upon her. To be exact, I didn't stumble, my car had just given up on me one fine day a month or maybe more ago. See, I can't even remember when I met her. The important detail is I know her.

With her pale shirt sinking into her body due to the rain I recall she had hugged herself. Shielding her body before her lips delicately moved as she kept speaking to herself. One minute or so late she gives up. Huffs her hands down before pushing her slightest wet strand and turns around.

Her face. Oh Lord. That milky skin glazed with the right amount of caramel slipped the facial structure. Normal sized nose but, perhaps, now that I close my eyes and her image flushes beneath my eyes, I remember her nose is a little long. Not too long, but a little bit of touch. Her soulful dirty brown eyes scanned her purse as she fetched for her wallet, taking a note out.

I was behind her. Not exactly behind but towards the side and behind because the view from this angle was priceless that day. I look up, grin wide at the thunderous sky as raindrops fell into my face, thanking the climate for sending some freshness to my dreading world.

If that's what you thought I was happy about, then you're wrong.

I just loved the outlook of her shirt engulfing her, sending me and my eyes very dreading and wrong signals. I don't blame her. Nor me. It's was that rain. What do they call it? Rain God? I think I like him after that day.

She had pushed her hair back and I licked my lips. My tea was going cold and splashed a little on my hand as the rain devoured it. I look down. Imagining her as the tea and me as the raindrop. Sinking into the bottom of the cup so swiftly without any force.

My phone rung and I ignored the vibration by my upper thigh inside the pants pocket. My body was vibrating more than that phone that day.

She said she didn't want sugar in her tea. I noted mentally to remember that and I still do. The poor and ripped from inside looking guy gave her the tea and she sipped into it effortlessly. I close my eyes. Gulping. "Why don't you walk home? The bus might be half an hour late because of the weather." He says.

I wanted to hit his head for disturbing her drinking session and my watching with admiration. But it got better. And better. That small young lady was talkative. Loud, bubbly and carefree with no brains.

It's okay. She doesn't need to use her brain much because she won't work in future. I can provide enough. And I still stick to my words a month or two later.

She wiped her mouth from the back of her hand. Those luscious looking red full lips touched her hand and I inhaled sharp, gripping the cup so tight. She shivers as she replies, "I live far Bhaiya." Taking another sip of the hot tea that evening she added, "Rohini road, I live there." And that's when I judged and came to a conclusion that she was dumb—no. Not dumb. Just—unthoughtful. And naïve.

Naïve. I wonder what a small beauty like her could be called but I'm aware now. Siya.

Siya Joshi. Works for the Verma brother's from Monday to Saturday, eight a.m till six p.m but most day's leaves work at six thirty p.m. Twenty-six, unmarried, single and lonely. An elder brother called Viren and parents living in a Village. And yes, the most important fact about her, sometime Miss Siya Joshi gets hot and sleep only in her bra at night.

I dedicate this piece of useful information to her landlord for giving her such a crappy place to live in. I won't lie. It makes my job at keeping an eye on her easier. I like watching. She's worthy of being watched. Worthy of being touched. Of being loved. And I'm willing to be her partner. But she's not easy. She does seem like it but she's not.

Back to what me remembering the day; she starts to offer her address without looking around, "Rohini sector 1--" she was rudely interrupted by a male's deep angry voice on her ear. I already hated him at the sight. He was so close to her. Speaking roughly by her ear, warning her about the people around and she understood.

My job would have been easy until he stopped her from blunting out her location. He left and she looked a bit flushed. From embarrassment or closeness, I'm not aware till date. I'm hoping for the first guess.

She left after a few minutes and that's when I called my father, "transfer fifty thousand rupees into my account. I've got some work to handle."

And today, she's right in front of me. Skipping her way into the society with a bright beaming face. Her house key is already wrapped around her thin long fingers and she takes no time in unlocking it and shutting the door behind.

She was happy about something. I wonder what? And why.

Key To Their Hearts

Mystery and romance begins!

Next chapters would be published some time in November. My exams are going on so they might be delayed but I will update as soon as I can.