Naina held his hand on her waist, keeping it away from herself.
"Kya hua?" Sameer lifted his face from her hair.
"Woh patti geeli ho jayegi." She said softly.
He remembered the water he had poured on her.
"Sorry Naina... main toh bas mazak mein..." He turned her around and the words died in his throat.
The wet kurta was stuck on her, making him realise for the first time what he had done a few moments back...
Pouring water on him from so close as he held her waist, had further made her wet... the kurta edge had drops of water hanging like beads, that fell to the floor everytime she moved, more taking their place like someone patiently waiting in a que.
Feeling his heated gaze on her, she mentally cursed herself for not having a dupatta... which she never used while in the room. Her hands itched to cover herself. She resisted, knowing that he would again tell her to be herself.
Standing like this in front of him, water dripping from his wet hair, clamped locks falling in his eyes, face completely wet, the gleaming damp body... her throat had gone dry...
She turned, picking up his towel, and extended it to him, "Yeh lo."
He took the towel from her hand... eyes not able to move away from the image Naina presented... like those heroines in the movies... in rain sequences... and the most potent image that had tormented him for last three years... Naina in a green saree... soaked in rain...
This wasn't even rain... but still have the same feel.
He had so wanted to touch her, hold her, feel her against himself, drown in the deep pools of her brown eyes, graze his fingers over the softness of her creamy back that lay open to his view, circle his hands around her tiny waist... he could do all that now... if only she wore the green saree again... and he need not wait for the rain... to relive the moment...
His mind started working again... he needed to modify the list of his fantasies...
"Yeh kya kar rahe ho?" Her sharp voice made him jump.
Did he dream aloud?
His puzzled look brought a frown on her face and she tugged at his wrist.
"Sameer, patti wala hath kyon geele balon mein daal rahe ho... dusre haath se karo na." She held his hand carefully, which he had taken unknowingly to brush off the wet hair from his face... weaving new fantasies.
He forwarded the towel to her.
"Main... main bahar jaati hun... tum... tum aa jaana." She could not take anymore of it, rushing out before be could hold her.
"Arre, main toh keh raha tha tum khud ko sukha lo." His voice drifted out as she closed the door behind her.
"Pagal ladki, woh tujhe de raha tha tauliya aur tu sochne lagi woh tujhe keh raha hai usse..." She slapped her forehead, shutting her eyes at the thoughts raiding her mind.
Running out to the balcony, she picked up her towel, dabbing it over her kurta. She picked up the bag, opening it again to take out another pair of clothes.
Sameer came out a few minutes later.
She was standing near the balcony door, a puddle around her feet.
"Sameer, m... main change karke aati hun." She picked up her clothes, walking gingerly towards the washroom, owing to her wet feet.
She had almost reached the door when long fingers closed around her wrist, pulling her.
