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Words:-1500+
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Raha's pov
As I indulged in the sweet delight of the cotton candy the old man had given me, I couldn't help but relish its comforting taste. Despite my inner resolve not to acknowledge his kindness with a simple "thank you," I couldn't deny the warmth his gesture brought. My thoughts were interrupted as the car came to a halt at a red light. Glancing outside, I couldn't help but notice the mundane beauty of the moment-the stillness of the traffic, the soft glow of the streetlights. In that fleeting pause, I found myself appreciating the old man's quiet consideration, realizing that perhaps he wasn't so bad after all.
As a boy approached with gajras, I felt a pang of longing. It had been ages since I'd worn them, even though it wasn't for a big event like a wedding. The old man said he didn't want them, but I did. My heart sank as he didn't ask me. I wanted to stop the boy, but I didn't know how. My heart was breaking-I really wanted those gajras.
"Do you want this, Raha?" the old man asked, breaking the tension with the little kid. "Yes," I blurted out, unable to resist. "Then give her one," the old man instructed the boy, who handed it over. With a thrill, I accepted the gajra. Excitedly, I tore open the paper and wrapped it around my wrist like a bracelet. It felt like heaven-I loved wearing it this way.
"What is this?" I heard the little boy exclaim, confused by the old man's actions. Slapping my forehead in disbelief, I couldn't believe the old man was offering his black card to pay for the gajras. Was he out of his mind? How could he think it was acceptable to pay on the street like this? He clearly needed to brush up on his street smarts.
"I don't have cash," the old man admitted, but I wasn't about to give back my precious gajras.
"Wait, I have a check," he exclaimed, adding to my embarrassment. First, he offered his card, now a check! I cringed as I noticed the little boy stifling a laugh at his expense. Feeling mortified, I rummaged through my purse, praying I had some change to spare.
"Here, take this," I said, offering the money to the little boy. However, the old man swiftly snatched it from my hand, leaving me in shock. There was no way I was going to let him take my gajras from me.
"I will pay, Raha, you don't need to," he insisted.
"How? You don't even have cash, and this isn't a 5 or 7-star hotel where you can pay with your black card!" I retorted angrily, but he just laughed at me.
"Sorry, baby girl, I won't be able to pay for you today, but from now on, I'll always carry cash," he said with a cringe-worthy smile.
After the traffic light turned green, indicating it was time to go, he smoothly accelerated the car forward. I sat beside him, holding the delicate gajras in my hand, feeling their softness and taking in their sweet scent. It was a simple pleasure, one that brought a smile to my face.
Suddenly, he reached out and took my hand in his, surprising me. I looked at him questioningly as he brought the gajras to his nose and inhaled deeply. "Wow, they smell amazing," he remarked, his voice filled with genuine admiration. I felt a bit uncomfortable, not accustomed to such intimate gestures from him, and I tried to withdraw my hand subtly.
"Hey, focus on driving, not on my gajra," I said, attempting to lighten the mood with a playful tone. But his attention seemed fixated on the delicate flowers in my hand. He chuckled softly before releasing my hand, but not before placing a gentle kiss on it.
"As you say baby girl"
His action caught me off guard, and a flush of embarrassment tinged my cheeks. I didn't like being called "baby girl" or having him invade my personal space like this. It felt intrusive, unsettling, and it made me squirm inwardly.
Once he let go of my hand, I discreetly wiped away the lingering sensation of his kiss on my dress, trying to rid myself of the discomfort it caused. Despite the fleeting moment of tenderness, I couldn't shake off the unease that lingered within me.
"You know what raha" old man said and I looked at him
He didn't flinch, his eyes locked onto mine with an unwavering intensity. "I said, one day, I'm going to kiss every inch of your body," he repeated, his voice low and husky. "I'll mark you, claim you as mine, so you can't erase my touch like you did just now."
I felt my heart pounding erratically in my chest, my mind struggling to process his bold declaration. "You can't just... say things like that," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
His lips curved into a knowing smile, sending a shiver down my spine. "But you know it's true,and you won't be able to remove my touch like you did now" he insisted, his gaze never wavering.
I averted my eyes, feeling exposed under his penetrating stare. "I... I need some air," I murmured, looking outside of the window.am soo emmbrassed to face him.
He reached out, his fingers grazing my hand, igniting a spark that sent tingles racing through my body. "Take all the time you need,I will wait for you forever" he said softly, his voice tender yet filled with promise.
As his words hung in the air, thick with tension, I found myself unable to meet his gaze. The silence between us was suffocating, heavy with unspoken emotions. When he finally pulled up in front of a grand hotel, confusion washed over me.
Why were we here? I searched his face for answers, but he remained stoic, offering no explanation. With a sigh, he stepped out of the car, leaving me to ponder my next move.
Should I follow him? Lost in thought, I realized he had already opened my door, extending his hand in a silent invitation. I hesitated, unsure of what to do next.
As he closed the door and approached me, his hand finding its place on my waist, I couldn't help but roll my eyes. He was being so cringe-worthy.
"Why are we here?" I questioned, my confusion growing with each passing moment.
"I wanted my wife to try my favorite food," he replied, and I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Old man only eats green foods, which I despise the most.
"I don't want to eat anything," I insisted, already making my way back to the car.
"Why aren't you hungry?" he persisted, but I was adamant.
"No, I'm not," I replied firmly.
"Oh, please, Raha, let's go. They have the best food here," he urged, but I remained unconvinced.
"No," I repeated.
"You will, Raha," he insisted, his tone unwavering.
"No, I won't eat such green things," I retorted.
but instead of arguing further, he burst into laughter.
"Oh, my baby girl, I don't always eat salads. Sometimes I enjoy tasty food too," he explained, taking my hand in his.
"No, I won't eat your favorite," I insisted.
"Okay then, eat whatever you like," he relented, and I couldn't help but feel relieved at the compromise.
As we entered the hotel, I couldn't help but notice the sea of respect everyone offered him. Does he really deserve all this adulation? I highly doubt it. He's more like a monster than a hero in my eyes.
We were guided to the upper floor, which I'm certain he had booked entirely. Why does he insist on wasting money like this? I sighed as we took our seats, feeling exasperated by his extravagance.
When the waiter handed us the menu, my eyes immediately landed on the donuts. Yes, that's what I wanted. "I want donuts," I declared eagerly, but he had other plans. "No, Raha, first eat something healthy," he insisted.
"No," I retorted stubbornly. "Yes, you will," he replied firmly. "I don't want to eat anything," I protested, adamant that if there were no donuts, I wanted nothing else.
"You stubborn girl," he muttered under his breath before instructing the waiter to bring what I assumed would be something healthy.
After leaving the hotel, he paid with his beloved black card, and we made our way back home. Once inside the room, I changed into my nightwear, only to find him absent. Ignoring his absence, I settled onto the bed, but soon felt something around my waist. Startled, I looked and saw him beside me.
"Ahhhh!" I exclaimed, trying to break free from his grasp. "Don't shout, little dove, it's me," he reassured me, but the nickname caught me off guard. First 'baby girl,' now 'little dove.'
"Leave me," I pleaded, but he persisted, claiming it was comfortable. Reluctantly, he nestled on my stomach and drifted off to sleep. I couldn't disturb his rest; after all, he had been so kind, offering me cotton candy and gajra earlier.
With a sigh, I resigned myself to sleep in this uncomfortable position, eventually succumbing to slumber after much contemplation.
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