"Sometimes I still wonder why things happened the way they did."
Nisha's POV:-
Scrutinizing the dark blanket of night, my fingers curled around my phone. Humid air cut through my legs, but no feeling coursed through inside me. Was Tina right? Was I becoming a monster without any peak of a feeling? But what was I supposed to feel? Nowadays, everything seemed too dull and everything made me angry like a volcano was lingering on the surface, waiting for a signal to come and wrap his hands around me.
Huh.
The mess was getting messier.
Nisha, you were okay. Just stop thinking and get out of this place before Kabir calls and ask where are you.
I had no desire to hear his scolding on how should I be responsible and not go to these type of bars. I hated the fact he didn't drink anymore, and I hated how he didn't see I wasn't him and I liked drinking. Checking the time on the watch, I walked towards my car. I was about to open the door when I heard yelling.
Confused, I paced my head back and forth, searching for the owner of the voice. I should get the hell out of here. It was the bad part of the city, not meant for people like me. But my warning never did anything good to me and I found my feet trudging towards the owner of the voice. Here comes my funeral.
In the dark aisle, I could see two dark figures, talking in hiss voices. That was all I could manage to see. Inching closer, I hid behind the concrete wall, and after a second, I heard a moan of pain. I was about to run away when the noise of running footsteps invaded my ear and the bulky person ran away, not bothering to look at the right side.
A selfish part of me wanted to run away. But then I remembered I was going to be a doctor, and the moans were from the injury. I needed to help him.
Taking out my phone, I turned on the torch and detached myself from the wall. Walking in the dark alley with my phone torch, my gaze frantically swayed for the person. There he was. Lying on the floor, hand on his stomach and a glare on his face.
"Rahul," I whispered. I moved the light to his stomach, seeing a pool of blood cloaking his shirt. Not bothering for anything, I knelt down on the floor and tried to touch his shirt, but he shoved my hand away. Feeling a pulse of anger, I tried again but he shoved it. "You know I can ask what happened, but I really don't care. I just need to see the wound."
I gulped loudly, trying not to pass any emotion of fear and care.
"This isn't a damn museum. Get lost," He hissed and moaned.
"What is your problem?" My eyes shifted to his. "I can leave you alone after you said to me." And hurt a part of me like always. By this time, his words should stop affecting me, but no, every time they knew a way to my heart.
I could act like I didn't care, but from inside, I crumbled.
"Then leave. It's just a cut." Placing his hand on the wall, he stood up and leaned his head at the back of the wall.
"Okay, if you won't let me see it. I'm calling the police." I started dialing the number, but he snatched the phone from my hands.
"Why?"
"You've blood on your shirt. I don't know what I saw but definitely, something is wrong. It's me or hospital. The cut is deep."
Because the blood wasn't stopping.
He groaned loudly. "No calling police." For a second, I thought it was fear on his face but he changed it back to his normal posture mixed with pain. "You want to see, then do."
He moved his hand away from the wound. I didn't know he would agree. I was just trying my luck. Sometimes I wish I wasn't a good person and could be mean, leaving him with his injury, waiting for the death to come and welcome him.
But the doctor part of mine always had some other thought. A doctor wasn't supposed to let her personal affairs get in the matter of work.
He directed the torch towards the wound, making it easier for me to see. Placing my hands on the edge of the shirt, I lifted it, checking the wound. Blood gush out. I touched it lightly and he groaned loudly.
"Nisha, be careful," he barked.
"We need to take you to the hospital. It's deep." Again, the fear came on his face and he pushed it back, shaking his head. "But you need care!"
"I can't. Fucking go away. I'll treat it myself." He placed the phone on my hands. Knocking his shoulder with mine, he wobbled.
I had two choices. Let him treat it himself, cause some infection and then come to the hospital. Or I could take him to my home and treat him there.
"Why can't you go to the hospital?"
"My wish."
His muscles were tense, steps wobbled and I couldn't see it anymore. He wouldn't go to the hospital and at one point he was right. They would ask the reason, report it and he wasn't adamant to tell them anything.
Running, I caught up with him.
"Come with me. My home. I'll see you there."
His eyebrows raised in a question. "What happened to you, princess? Why caring so much?"
My lips twisted in a sour smile. "I'm a doctor and fuck my life I have to see you. I've been taught that."
"I don't need your charity. Throw it at someone else." He tried to walk past, but I held his shoulders and barked, "Get in the car. Act rational. Cut is deep, you can't treat it. You need medical help."
We glared for a couple of minutes, waiting for another to turn his eyes. And at last, he moved his gaze and said, "Open the fucking car."
Smiling sweetly, I took the keys out of my denim shorts and opened the car. Wobbling, he went to the passenger seat and sat in. Taking a relief breath, I joined him. Starting the ignition, I drove to the destination of my home.
Surprisingly, he didn't say anything and looked outside the window. From the corner of my eyes, I could see sweat cloaking his face, tightening of his lips and hand covering the injury.
I should be happy seeing him in pain. He welcomed it even if I didn't know the reason for the same. He was a troublemaker. He liked getting into mess. His injuries weren't something new to me. I had seen many of them.
But my feet didn't comply with my heart and increased the speed.
Be happy Nisha. He deserved it. He called for it. Drive slowly and let him feel the pain. He hurt you with his words, let him drown in the pain of cuts.
Parking the car, I was about to leave when he asked, "What about Kabir?"
Without facing him, I replied, "He's out with Alina." Or else you wouldn't be sitting beside me.
We both got out, and unknowingly, I caught his free hand, pushing us inside the house and to my room. He didn't even struggle.
"Leave my hand," He sneered. Rolling my eyes, I left his hand, telling him to sit on the chair and not on the bed. I couldn't afford my bed sheets getting his dirty blood.
I had kept the first aid kit in the bathroom. Marching, I opened the bathroom door, took out the kit from the vanity and went back to my room. Taking in the view in front of me, my eyes widened in surprise.
He wasn't wearing his shirt.
"Where the hell is your shirt?"
He pointed his gaze to the floor. "Blood and don't you have to treat me? Do it fast." Thrusting the box on the table, I shot him a glare.
I was helping and he didn't have any audacity to feel grateful for it. Why was I even helping in the first place?
Ignoring, I took out the cotton and started cleaning the blood. Smiling devilishly, I pressed harder, showing no mercy. As a result, he groaned loudly.
"Fuck Nisha, be gentle."
Smirking, I lifted my gaze upwards and was struck by the closeness. The smirk left my face when I saw cuts and bruises on his face. They were similar to Kabir. Breath closed in my throat. Was Kabir too involved in the same mess? But he couldn't. He was better than Rahul. I knew this year was hard on both of us but he wouldn't take this road.
But he was too covered in blood a few days back.
"How you got it?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"None of your business."
"It is!" He jumped slightly. I spoke too loudly. "Kabir too had bruises and cut. You too have. I need to know."
His eyes widened slightly. "I don't know anything about them. I hadn't met him in past month."
"Oh." I had no words to tell. Nodding, I went back to the cut. After cleaning it with cotton--without showing any mercy--and hearing his groans of pain again and again. My guys went to the blood coated cotton. They were too many. I gulped loudly and changed my view.
"Do you still paint?" Confused by his sudden question, I followed his gaze and realized they were on the packed boxes, but one was open. My paints and canvas.
Painting was my hobby. My way of getting away from the stress and broken power but nowadays they were my darkest memories. I used to paint with mom. I remember the first time I painted and showed her, and how much happy she was, knowing we connected at one level. Dad used to tease me every day about my painting and choosing Medical instead of painting. Painting was just a hobby and treating others was my passion.
Mom wasn't here. Dad wasn't here. Painting should get out now.
"No." My gaze hardened.
He didn't ask any other question and let me continue my work. At last, he stood up when I had to wrap the band aid.
"If you don't get gentle, I'm calling the police and reporting you're abusing me."
Scowling, I faced him. "Here I'm helping you and you're crying like a baby."
"I didn't ask."
"Sure?" He nodded and I left the band-aid untied and stepped back. "Do on your own." I went back and sat on the bed. "When you'll be done, get out." His mouth widened in surprise but I wore a neutral expression. If he couldn't be grateful for my service, I wasn't free to help him.
He didn't say anything, and twisted to take the band-aid from the floor, and moaned. But he didn't bother to ask for my help. He wouldn't. He had too much of ego and pride to hurt. I sat on the bed, watching him trying, moaning and failing. His weakest point. He couldn't handle the pain.
After so many failed trials, he announced, "Help me."
I waggled my finger in front of him. "Magic word."
His hand curled into fists, showing the veins running through his arms. I was a sucker for veins, and clearly, no batchmate of mine had them. My eyes run through his whole trouser, noticing how fit he was. I hadn't noticed it before because we were never alone.
"Doctors are supposed to help without any word."
"Bad for you I'm not that doctor." I leaned back on the bed. Faking a yawn, I stretched my arms in the air. "Say or go. I've college tomorrow."
"Please, help me, princess," He bit. Nodding, I got up from the bed. Taking the band-aid, I tied it at last. "Why are you not getting distracted by seeing me shirtless?"
He had no idea how much my body was bothered by the closeness we both were sharing right now. I was trying hard to not touch his naked skin, not let my eyes wonder on his packs or his muscled arms. Why did he work out? Why couldn't he be like any other men?
"I hate you too much."
"Can I confess?"
I nodded while packing the things.
"Next time try to hide your personal clothes when you let any man enter your room who's not your boyfriend or husband." Suddenly, my eyes assessed the room and the heat pooled my face. My bra was on the floor. He chuckled, and his lips rested on my ear. "Nice choice."
"You suck." I knocked my elbow on his chest, pushing him away from me. Taking the box, I bent and caught the garments, going in the bathroom. Placing them on the top of the vanity, I came back in the room. He was going through my stuff--or my paints. "Hey, that's private."
I snatched the paints from his hands and placed them inside the box, and closed it shut.
"Get out before Kabir comes."
"Can't." He sat on the bed. "I don't have a car." I forgot he came in my car.
"I'll tell the driver to drop you."
"Can't I stay? I'll ask Kabir if I can crash here. It has been a long time since I met him." But he wouldn't talk with you. He didn't have time for small talks anymore.
"He isn't at home." I was about to bent down and collect the cotton balls from the floor, but he said he would do it. At least at some place, he knew when to help. "I don't trust you, Khanna."
"Don't feel special. I too don't trust you." Placing the balls on the coffee table, he came forward, standing few inches away from me. "Who knows what will you do with a poor boy like me?"
"I'm not interested in you." His hand rested on my arm and my muscles tensed.
"We'll see." He didn't wait for my answer when he walked out of the room. Where was he going now? But I didn't follow him and paid attention to my messy room. I should let the maid clean my room, but I wasn't allowing anyone in my room anymore.
Again, the feeling of asking him came back. I should force him to tell me. Clearly, someone attacked him and we both were behaving like nothing much happened. He didn't even care to report it. But what was the fear I saw before? I needed to know how it happened but I had no idea why was I bothering. He could die or live. I would get out from him what happened.
He strode into the room, wearing a new shirt. It was Kabir's.
"Sorry for obstructing the view of my marvelous greek body but you were eye raping me." My mouth hung open in surprise. That's why I hated him. He was too much full of himself.
Before I could say anything, we heard whispering and talking.He didn't wait for my reply and left the room. I followed his trail. He didn't go further but we could see Kabir and Alina were kissing.
"Did I tell you how much hot you look in three piece?" Her hand tied around his tie, pushing him forward. My mouth hung open. Since when Alina became bold?
"We should leave," I whispered. But Rahul chuckled, placing a finger on his lips. "He's my brother," I snarled. I couldn't see him like this. It was awkward.
"Na, how about you show me and I show you what your dress is doing to me."
"That sounds like a really good plan, Mr. CEO," Smirking, she pushed him into his room and the door closed.
Rahul showed me a evil glint. He was going to barge in but I held his hand tightly. Finally after so many days, Kabir was happy. "Don't you think you touch me too much? If you want me, then I've to pass your offer. Sorry but don't feel rejected."
Scowling, I stomp on his foot and shivered in disgust from the thought of him and me in bed. Ew.
"I'll call the driver."
I called the driver. After some minutes, he came and Rahul was about to leave when he stopped and said, "Can we be friends?"
"What?" I stared at him in shock.
"Friends? I'm tired of fighting with you." From where this sudden change of heart came from?
"No, we can't. Get lost, loser." He scowled and left.
What happened to him? It must be one of his pranks to insult me.
Hugging myself tightly, I looked around the house. Loneliness screamed, pain thrashed and I cursed life. I wish mom was here, so that I could lay my head on her lap or cuddle with her tightly. I wish dad was here so I could spend time in his study.
What was happening to me? Why was I feeling sad without any valid reason? They left me and I had to accept it. It had been six months since they died. Two weeks since we moved in our new house.
I was pulled out of my thoughts from the moan. I bit my lip in a confused smile. So Alina faced her fears at last.
Headphones. Tonight, I need to sleep with headphones and in the morning, I need to make a plan on how to know what happened with Rahul.
I wasn't letting go of it.