MIKAYLA
. . .
I narrow my eyes at his pretty and tired face. Half-lidded eyes, curtained by those inky eyelashes hold the drunkenness of loads. His lips are pulled in a small frown and I'm surprised to see his audacity.
How could he even imagine something like that?
"Your bed is mine, too, and I don't want you to sleep here beside me," I say, keeping my anger in check.
I am also tired and want to sleep as soon as possible but about Barak, he needs to rest quicker than I do. My mother kept boasting about him that he wakes up at dawn and all. Blah, blah, blah. That he is a decent man while I wake up late. Mostly around ten in the morning.
So what?
He sighs a deep sigh, the sound audible within the tall and thick walls. "Isn't it useless, Mikayla? Don't be so childish to send me away," he begins, "And I'm your husband now. Is that how you're going to treat me for the rest of our lives?"
"Till death do us part, remember?" I throw a fake grin in his direction.
He rolls his eyes. "I'm used to sleeping in bed. I can't leave it," he tries once again but he doesn't know that he can't convince me. Maybe, others can but not him.
"See Barak, it's your headache. I can't help you here. You were so fond of having a wife, didn't you? Now learn to bear my tantrums, too. I can't sleep with you because I hate you and it's simple. I don't think I need to put out theories about it, do I?"
"And you can't learn to live with me, can you? Is it so hard?"
"I can't change my mind but you can. Remember who's wise between us? It's time to prove it, dear husband."
"So you admit that you're a fool."
As much as it irked me and my jaw clenched the moment he stopped being so sarcastic, I had to keep calm and try not to scratch his face because I'm a lover of beauty, not a destroyer.
"Everybody considers me childish and thinks that you're wise and responsible. It's not my fault that you've brainwashed them." I glare at him, sealing his lips through my burning eyes before he can throw another sarcastic remark. "Now, get your ass back to the couch and never dream of sleeping beside me because hell would freeze before I give up in your arms."
I know I aimed too high because the real and very Mikayla within me knows it's indeed hard to resist this Blondie.
Though I've never imagined those things with him, I'm sure he'll make do it if I didn't remain armored. I have to build this boundary around me but I fear he'll break it down, too, just like it happened to the walls of Jericho.
But what's wrong with blabbering, right?
"Blah, blah, blah," he mutters, rolling his eyes. "Don't make it a challenge. Your face swells when you lose."
"You think I'm gonna lose here?" He has pressed that button. "In your dreams, Blondie!" Keep blabbering, Mikayla. How shameless I am.
"Oh, it's gonna come true then." My jaw clenches. "But don't worry I won't count it because you're my wife and there's nothing like losing and winning between husband and wife."
"You and your misunderstandings, that are literally from another planet."
He chuckles, shaking his head. "You know yourself, that's enough for me. Don't make me say it, Mikayla."
"No, I want to know because I don't know." Maybe, I do. "What do you want to say, say it all," I challenge him, earning myself a serious frown on his face now.
"Leave it," he denies gently, shaking his head.
"No, tell me!" I urge, voice getting louder.
"I don't want to," with that said, he moves to leave the bed, accepting his defeat. But I'm triggered. What about it? He shouldn't have said it if he couldn't even complete it.
Before he can leave the bed, I grip his collar and pull him back. "You have to! You can't walk away after annoying the hell out of me!"
Well, that was it. I called it and asked for the change. Anger is such a deadly weapon. Made me summon my doom because he does it.
Leaning closer, he makes me wonder what changed all of a sudden. His silence was killing and in his eyes, spread darkness as it happens before the downpour. So heavy yet so beautiful. Eyes drowned me while the touch literally set me on fire. A pleasant feeling it was when he touched my face so gently as if he was going to kiss me and I melted like nothing.
There's something magical about his eyes. He can make anyone lose. Weapons drop and knees bow when he looks at me so gently. So gently as if I'm paradise itself and he's glad and grateful to have me in his arms.
He didn't do anything. He really didn't do anything sensual. It was just a simple touch of his cheek against mine and a faint feeling of his lips upon my neck. So faint that it felt like an illusion but I knew it was not.
His breath alone made goosebumps rise over my skin. His touch was as if a blind man yearned to learn what he held. He honestly carried the stars of heaven on his palms which made my skin burn and the fire traveled down my bones. It sank, held the joints and I felt like molten gold ran through my veins.
Deep down a realization dwelled within me that I was impure and the worst sinner of this world but he made me see otherwise. He set aside the thoughts, holding dominance that spoke volumes of his rights over me and he made me feel holy. I felt like a goddess, his goddess because he is god in the true sense.
He holds my hands, intertwining our fingers before he lets those lovely set of lips touch my neck and my grip tightens around his hand.
How blind I am and crave him like he's a part of me. Like a doe of wilderness, I search for him like he's the brook which is never going to run dry.
He glides those lips up my chin and bites it gently, making me moan silently.
"That's what I didn't want to say," he says, his voice breathy and deep. I peel open my eyes, feeling heat exudes from my skin. My eyelids feel heavy but this heart says to look into his eyes.
"But you know it," he pulls up a little, still hovering over me. Golden strands kiss his eyebrows and dark eyes stare at me. "That you light up when I touch you. Your blood is flustered and your heart goes crazy. You bloom when I touch you like it brings life to you. Isn't it, baby?"
I don't answer him. I know myself, that's enough. He too doesn't need any answer. He only accepted the challenge but when he moved away, I caught a glimpse of guilt in his eyes.
This man was written in my destiny.
｡ﾉ♡
"Mikayla, get up. How long are you going to take?" He says it gently, walking around the room.
"Five minutes," I whisper, pulling up the blanket to my chin. For another two hours, I want to forget that I'm married.
"You spent half an hour on the pretext of five minutes, you clever woman! Now get up quickly. Ma called you. She told me you have to cook something though I doubt if you even know how to cook!"
"I don't think I asked you to judge me and keep your mouth shut or I'll sew it!"
I don't hear him after that. Good. A few minutes pass and then I hear him once again.
"Mikayla," he says, waking closer. I feel something on my forehead and I hum in response. "There's a cockroach on your head," he says very casually but my heart sinks into my stomach.
I swat away the thing, screaming into the ceiling. Jumping out of bed, I run my palms down my robe hysterically.
He laughs in the background and at the same moment, my eyes fall upon him. He bends to hold the cockroach and shows it to me. He holds it by its leg.
Eww!
My eyes widen in horror. "How could you?" I gasp and step back when he begins walking in my direction. He just can't scare me with that cockroach!
"I had no other way, Mikayla." There is a mischievous glint in his eyes, his lips pulling up in a naughty grin.
I shake my head. "Stay away, Barak—"
"Or else?" He wiggles his eyebrows. "I'll throw it on you—"
"What—No!"
"Then hurry up!"
"Okay, okay!" I raise my hands in surrender. And I ran into the bathroom. As soon as I'm inside, I slam the door shut and lean against it with a deep sigh. Finally!
On the other side, I hear him laugh carelessly. "It's not even real, Mikayla." Whatever. It was scary anyway. But I won't sit peacefully. I'll make him pay for it. How dare he prank me like that?
｡ﾉ♡
I come out, ruffling my wet hair as water doesn't drip anymore. I walk over to the balcony doors, dropping my green net dupatta on the couch. The design of it just took my heart away.
"Where's your mind, Madam?" Oh, well I dropped my dupatta not upon the couch but upon the person who sat on the couch.
"Just want to annoy you. Bear it," I mutter, looking up at the sky. I could treat my hair but I don't like blowouts. I'd have to leave like that.
No problem.
Hanging the towel in its place, I walk inside and do some makeup. My husband sits with my dupatta in his lap, working on his laptop. I can see him. He is engrossed.
Who cares?
Grabbing the set of matching bangles, I slide them down my wrists. They release a lovely melody and it gets his attention. Always on high alert. He looks at me and I look away but I catch him mumbling something under his breath.
Once done, I walk to him and bend a little to grab my dupatta from his lap while he watches me closely. I feel his breath fanning my cheek and his eyes stuck on me. Ignoring him like always, I arrange it on my shoulders. I then turn to leave when he holds my hand gently.
"What?" I ask as I turn.
"Nothing," he murmurs, smiling at me. He gets up. "Stand here for a moment," he says and I do it, watching his lips move in an inaudible prayer. He really thinks it's going to change me. Okay, let him be satisfied. I'll also see what's so powerful in his prayer.
"Amen," and he blows gently.
"Now, I'm leaving," I say and walk downstairs. He follows after me, at a small distance, but as soon as we reach the hall, he grabs my hand and we join everybody, putting on smiles.
I greet everybody and walk into the kitchen where I find Ma along with other women. I greet them, too, receiving compliments. The dress I wear was suggested by Ma last night.
It's a green salwar kameez set, and I liked it. Her choice is nice.
Once the formalities are done, I'm taken aside by Ma where she tells me that I'll have to make something for everybody.
"I told you last night that I don't know how to cook. Can you help me?" I ask, keeping my voice low so that other ladies won't hear me.
"Of course! That's why I'm here, my daughter!"
I grin in response, glad to have such a mother-in-law. My Mama always used to taunt me that if I didn't learn how to cook, my mother-in-law would puncture me with arrows of taunts and deadly sarcasm but I knew she was just blabbering. I know Aunt Evalena. She's a nice woman. You can say that I just took advantage of it.
"Rabri kheer banana. Usey bohot pasand hai," she says, smiling affectionately and she has her son in her mind. Aww. That was so cute. My Mama never did it. Maybe because I was naughty.
(Make Rabri kheer —an Indian sweet dish. He likes it a lot.)
"Okay." I shrug. I too like it.
So we proceed to make it. The other ladies won't ask or talk about why Ma was helping me and I was glad about it. It doesn't take much time and I'm surprised to find it. I thought it would take two to three hours. Well, cooking is also easy but still, not for me.
Once done, we come out and serve everybody. Barak is not on the table. His grandfather calls him and I find him near the entrance, on his phone.
My eyes linger over his tall figure and broad back. He is wearing a light green shirt and the sleeves are rolled up. White trousers cover his legs and I suddenly realize that we are matching once again!
Wait, was it a plan? We can't match every damn time!
"Coming, Grandpa!" He answers and disconnects the line after telling the person on the other side.
"You'll give it to him, okay?" His mother whispers into my ear, smiling gently. I nod my head and walk into the kitchen with my arms folded on my chest. I fill a bowl and grab a salt container.
That's what I wanted to do, after all.
He scared me with a rubber cockroach, right? Now I'll serve him the world's most amazing Rabri Kheer.
Looking around in caution, I take out two spoonfuls of salt and mix it into his Rabdi. I arrange the bowl and a spoon beside it before I leave the kitchen and put it in front of Blondie.
He stares at it blankly before he looks at me. I give him a sweet smile and he smiles back.
"Dikhne mein to accha lag raha hai," he murmurs but I hear him somehow. I resist this great urge to roll my eyes. Others also tasted it and they said it was nice. I can't take the credit but at least, I tried.
(By looks, it's nice.)
"Khane mein aur bhi accha hai." I blink at him, assuring him to have a bite. Just one bite.
(It's nicer in taste.)
"Aisa hi samajh lete hai," he says with a soft shrug and thanks the Lord in a little voice. He grabs the spoon and fills it to put it into his mouth.
(Let's decide it so.)
I fold my arms on my chest, my bangles chiming. I look at his face and the Rabri doesn't go down his throat. I bite back this urge to laugh when he frowns, keeping the Rabri still in his mouth.
"Accha bana hai na?" I ask sweetly, tilting my head as I grab his attention. At least, I can smile. Everybody with me waits for his response which comes out late. To speak, he has to swallow it down.
(It's nice, isn't it?)
He puts a hand on his mouth and somehow forces it down his throat. I catch a glimpse of his eyes rolling back into their sockets.
"Very nice," he whispers in response, holding a glass of water. He takes big gulps to relieve his throat.
I chuckle under my breath, biting my bottom lip.
"You're right, she's made it well. Mickey is a quick learner. She made it with so much love." Of course, but not for Barak. They all smile at me and compliments come in my direction.
"She should also taste it then, right?" says Blondie all of a sudden and my breath hitches because I know about his plan. "I will feed her." Oh, no, what did he just say!?
"No problem." Ma shrugs and everybody agrees to my doom.
My eyes widen and I quickly shake my head. "N-No, it's not necessary. Not really," I utter, shrugging my shoulders to present it casually while deep down, I just want to run away.
"Why not necessary? You made it and you won't even taste it? So bad, isn't it?" He gets up, holding the same bowl in which I mixed salt.
Clever man!
"I'll taste it later, Barak," I grit out, maintaining an elegant smile but my eyes shoot daggers at him. Stay away, you cunning man!
He smirks and he feigns innocence. "Why later? Your husband wants to feed you now." He steps closer.
I step back, shaking my head slowly. "Why do you bother yourself—"
"Isme pareshani kis baat ki, Jaan? Tumse pyaar bhi to karta hu," he gives me a sweet response, pushing the spoon into the bowl as he fills it.
(What's bothering about it? I love you.)
"Barak, you cunning man," I inhale deeply when he is close enough to feed me and he doesn't wait a bit. He pushed the spoon half into my mouth when I tried to make an excuse, and I found no other way than to swallow it.
Eww! So horrible!
It was then I realized two spoons were really too much but I got no escape. Trying to keep my face from scrunching so bad, I swallow the small bite and feel like throwing up.
He smiles at me. "Very nice, right?"
I fake a grin and stomp on his foot before walking away. He groans a little but hides it well.
. . .
2.9k+
I seriously got no inspiration or encouragement. I didn't even realise when Wednesday came and I had to write.
I can't even force you to do something. Those who comment, I'm grateful to you :)
Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter.
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