Dil Beparwah | ✔

seven

||CHAPTER 7||
《¤》

┊A R V I K A┊

I probably should have rung the bell instead of using my keys to arrive unannounced at my apartment Friday morning.

The living room was in a frenzy. The sofa was misaligned, a white T-shirt hanging off the armrest, open pizza boxes with half eaten pizzas on the coffee table, a pair of suede heels haphazardly lying on the Persian carpet, a lace pantie decorating the lampshade and the TV still running in the background, tuned to some sports channel.

I wasn't dumb, I could put two and two together. Karan Bahl had some girl over, and had absolutely zero decency when it came to being subtle.

Grabbing the remote from the console, I increased the volume to full, kicked out my shoes and sat down on the couch. With my legs propped upon the table, I waited for my guests to wake up. Hospitality business or not, I was not letting Karan use my apartment like a motel room.

Sure enough, shuffling followed, and a red-haired woman draped in a grey bed sheet poked her head into the living room. "Excuse me, who do you think you are?"

She had an accent– definitely not Indian. "I think I'm someone who would like to come back home to a clean apartment. For now, I guess I'm simple vibing."

And I was. My hair was up in a messy morning bun and I had spilled a little coffee on my jeans back at the airport. The pizza was in front of me, albeit cold, but probably edible. 

Karan was yawning as he came up behind her, his bare torso visible and his boxers hanging shamelessly low on his hips. "Fuçk, you're back."

Red-head twisted her neck, raising her eyebrows at him in question. "Back? Karan, she lives with you? You have a female room-mate?"

She knew his name– definitely not a one-night-stand. Because those never even received his real number. Karan walked past the TV, over to the dining hall to open the fridge. "Yeah, same thing."

That made me deadpan. "Oh? We're roommates, huh?"

With a water bottle in his hand, he returned to the living room, snatched the remote from my hand and sat next to me.

"Is she another one of your crazy exes?" Redhead asked, resting a hand on her hip.

"Crazy, yes. She is an extremely crazy bìtçh." Saying that, he flipped the channel to another sports one that had various cars on displays. It was a rerun of an F1 race.

But she was unconvinced. "That's does not help your situation, Karan."

"Clearly," I muttered under my breath. He was drinking water without having brushed his teeth. I frowned.

"Babe," he said to her after so long a sip that it drained half the bottle. "Don't worry about her. She's not much into me as much as she might be into you, you know what I mean?"

My jaw dropped and my eyebrows shot up as I scoffed. "Is that so?" It was once, back in college. A drunken dare that was relayed to him later as a drunken story. At this rate, I was going to kick his aśs out sooner than I had planned on.

Karan's smirk widened when his female companion of the previous night cracked a small smile. "Oh. Well, okay then. I'm gonna go freshen up."