4. The gorgeous girl

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He licked his lips in anxiety, trying to tug Piyali away from the party

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He licked his lips in anxiety, trying to tug Piyali away from the party. His grandmother was nearby and had her brows furrowed in concentration when looking at the two of them curiously as a full-blown argument had ensued. Holding Piyali by her arm in a firm but gentle grip, he took her away from the garden and towards the reception hall of the hotel. Glimpsing up and down the chamber, he pulled her inside the nearest restroom. Locking the door behind him after ensuring that all the stalls in the ladies washroom were indeed empty, he gingerly made his way towards Piyali, who had her arms crossed across her chest and was glowering at him with her back to the wide mirrors behind the sinks.

"Just a friend?" she shrieked, her face contorting. Throwing her arms in the air, she yelled, "I am just a friend to you?"

He huffed. "Don't be overdramatic. Let me explain. I—"

She scoffed. "Oh, please! You have tried numerous times, but the problem is, I don't give a fuck about all your idiotic reasons."

He went ahead to pull her into an embrace, but she resisted, shoving at his chest, thrashing her arms. "Listen to me," he said, trying to hold her wrists and prevent the flailing motion. "Please, Piya." When she finally slumped her shoulders and caved in after a few moments of futile protests, he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her, nuzzling her neck. "Now, calm down. Alright?" He let his palms roam her silky hair. "Relax."

She hooked her arms around his neck and hid her face in his chest. "Why can't you introduce me as your girlfriend? Am I really that unacceptable?"

"Of course not." He let out a ragged breath and cupped her cheeks. "You are a lovely person, Piyali Mehra. But my family is conservative. The concept of dating and relationships is not something they are too comfortable with. My grandmother can't even imagine a girl and a boy being more than friendly with each other unless they are tied by matrimony. If I tell them you are my girlfriend, all of them will flip out. Trust me on that."

She clicked her tongue, pushing him away. "How do you even know that? Have you ever tried? I introduced you to my family when they visited us in March, and I expected the same today. Am I really as casual a friend as Abhi or Rishi are to you?"

He stepped back, pondering for a moment, while she was getting infuriated with each passing moment, for he was taking too long to respond when it should have been a simple, 'No.' Finally, when he saw her nose flare in a rage, he chuckled. "Of course not, Piya. Abhi and Rishi are more important to me."

Her mouth hung open, and she picked up the statue of an Indian dancing woman placed atop the counter to lunge at him. He ducked, deftly missing the hit, ceaselessly snickering as she continued screeching profanities at the top of her voice, chucking every solid thing at him that she could land her fingers on.

"Wait!" He chortled, holding her wrists when she ran out of stuff to throw and was planning on landing a punch on his handsome face. "Hold on. I was kidding."

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