Chapter 19 Matured

1 years ago

twerping

@twerping

Raman studied the woman on the couch. Coffee cup in hand, feet tucked up, Ishita was watching the rain. She had let her hair down to dry. Leaving the water in the electric kettle to boil itself to extinction, his eyes drank in the sight. Perhaps sensing that she was being watched, Ishita turned to look at him. 

"Need help?" she called out.

Raman popped the tea bag into his cup before pouring in the piping hot water just as she got up and walked towards him. 

The rain proved a constant backdrop as they sat down opposite each other at the kitchen counter. To avoid the reality of her presence before him, Raman turned to his phone, giving her updates on the weather and the situation in the city. He sensed a vulnerability in her tonight that did not sit well with him. To have her absolutely trust someone as jaded as himself had robbed him of his practised ease.

Even a couple of weeks ago, Raman would have thought this night to be a fulfilment of all the fantasies his mind had given birth to since running into this woman! Yet, such is the irony of life that all he felt at this moment was concern. He didn't want to push her into an even greater calamity than whatever it was that had brought her to him that night. 

As he spoke, Raman wished she would tell him to stop. That she would cut in and speak of what he actually wanted to hear. Why did he find her in the car in the rain, alone and clearly devastated?! Yet, for all appearances, Ishita continued to listen and Raman helplessly found himself reeling amidst his own empty words.

He'd much rather see her angry at him. Or full of laughter, as the time they had spoken after putting Ruhi to sleep. Or even cold, as she had been the last time they'd spoken at the clinic.  She should be in that perfect little bubble of a world that he had found her in. Not here before him where he could so easily take her and her world apart.

The memory of her unwilling blushes, when he'd caught her in his arms, seared through him. As the rain fell, Raman ran out of words. He did not know what to make of her silence, the calm she wore like a mask. He rose from his seat. 

"I think I will find some clothes for you to change into." 

Their clothes were damp and Ishita had no reason to refuse. She rose with him and followed.

When they entered the bedroom, where the wardrobe stood,  Raman wished she hadn't been quite so within his reach. His eyes fell on the bed and everything else in the room receded from his mind. A tremor rippled through him as he slid the wardrobe door open. Pulling at the first thing he saw, he held it towards her. She stood a little apart, glancing around her, skin glowing under the golden light of the room. He had to get away.  

"Get changed then," he said a touch brusquely, before turning to leave the room. 

"So you come here when you want to get away," she spoke, her voice carrying a faint note of wonder.

Pausing mid-stride, Raman looked at her. For the first time since they had entered this room, Raman turned to meet her eyes. Her clear, shining eyes. She was the first to turn away. Stepping slowly towards the bed, she dropped the clothes on the white sheets. Then she stood there. Instead of looking at him, her eyes ran across the room.

"Where you can just be," she spoke again. And then she smiled at him. Damp hair clung to her cheek. Raman watched as a tiny droplet of sweat made its journey down her neck, settling at the border of her blouse. 

"And there's just you," she whispered, her eyes meeting his once again. Words had deserted him. Raman watched as she ran her fingers through her hair. 

"No wonder--" and she paused. 

Turning away from him, she pulled at the pin near her shoulder. Raman knew it was time for him to step away. Instead, he found himself beside her. He watched her fingers clutch at the pin. She seemed to tremble as he placed his hand on her shoulder and gently pulled away the silver restraint. The pleated saree slid down her arm with no hand to stop its downward journey. 

She stood still, her back facing him. Raman saw another drop of sweat roll down the curve of her neck and this time raising a fingertip he caught the glistening bead. She made as if to move and Raman stepped away only to have her facing him. He saw the trace of nervous energy flitting through her eyes. A shiver ran through his very veins. It was now Ishita who stepped forward. Raman watched like a deer caught in the headlights as she lifted a hand and then another and laid it on his chest right where his heart hammered away. 

Her splayed fingers moved against his chest and Raman watched her eyes follow her own wandering hands against his shirtfront. He never moved as the roving hands met finally at the base of his neck. He couldn't resist when she pulled him towards herself haltingly as if trying to figure out every move. 

And then she had covered his lips with hers. It seared. He knew he should hold back but she was kissing him and this was real. He didn't even realise when his arms had slipped around her waist, drawing her close till she was resting right where he had wanted her ever since the first time they'd collided with each other. Only one thought blazed through his very being. She wanted him.

As he pulled her up closer, Ishita stopped mid-kiss and met his eyes. And then she smiled.

His gaze never left her face as she leaned in to kiss him again. He held her close, tightening his arms to support her as he felt her softness ease into his embrace.

They stood there kissing for how long Raman knew not. Ishita was the first to speak.

"What happens next?" she whispered between kisses. Her eyes had an open curiosity that sent tremors through his veins. 

Lifting a hand, Raman tugged away the saree pleats tucked into her underskirt. This time the material fell away entirely, pooling at their feet. As he lifted her in his arms, she gave a laugh and kissed his cheek. 

He placed her on the bed and then laid down beside her. Head resting on his arm, he looked at her. She was studying his face with an openness that made his breath hitch. She raised a finger to tuck away an errant curl that fell against his forehead and then continued on, tracing patterns along his cheek.   

 "I used to be afraid of you," she said, smiling as he raised his eyebrows at her words. She raised her head to plant kisses against his cheek before throwing a cheeky grin at him. Raman's hand found its way along her waist and with a pull, she was nestling in his arms. 

"It wasn't because of who you were," Ishita continued. "I wasn't blind, you know. I saw how you looked at me."

Drawing her hand to his lips, Raman breathed in the scent of her skin. "Did I make you uncomfortable?" he whispered.

"It wasn't that," Ishita chuckled. "Well, at first maybe, but not for long."

Raman couldn't help the laughter that escaped him at this. Unknown to him, his eyes shone with softness as he looked down at her. She met his gaze, no longer looking away. 

"I was scared of myself. Of my thoughts," she said. "I know you saw through all the lies that I was telling myself." She gave a low laugh. "At least you were aware of the fraud that I am."

"Ishita--" Raman began only to be silenced by her finger against his lips. 

"I'm tired," she said. "Lies won't do for me anymore." He watched her bite her lips, as a shiver seemed to pass through her body.

"And look you found me exactly when I needed to own up." She drew his face close to hers. "You were right when you called me out, but Raman, I'd gotten so good at it, I'd convinced myself."

He couldn't help drawing her into a hug, as he felt her respond, pulling him along deeper into her warmth. As he stroked her back, he felt her shudder. He continued his ministrations, hoping to comfort her. When they parted, he searched her face but her smile tonight was hard to read. 

Raising his hand to her lips, Ishita laid soft kisses on it.

"Raman, don't," she said, her eyes shining up at him. "You don't want me to get used to this."

She wore that cheeky grin on her face once again as she proceeded to kiss him. Her touch was soft yet demanding as it wore down his well-intentioned restraint. He groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding along her satin-like skin.

"Still find me quite attractive, Mr Bhalla?" She asked drawing away at one point to smile down at the tousled-headed mess before her. His shirt had long been cast away along with the few items of clothing on her. His eyes which had been branded into her mind, had long discarded their usual steely sharpness. Now there was a fire in them that would drown her if only she let it. Hearing her, he grinned before twisting her around until she was pinned beneath him. 

"You are beautiful," he spoke each word softly. 

Pausing to lay kisses along her face and neck he breathed the words into her skin. "A. great. beauty." 

When she let out a laugh at this, Raman went on to prove exactly how attractive he found her until she was a writhing muddle of sensations. 

*******************************************

Raised as the eldest and much-cherished golden boy of the family, Raman Kumar Bhalla had not had much notion of lovemaking before his marriage to Shagun. His feelings for his wife had been pure with the intensity of a first love. The two of them had fumblingly learnt the pleasures to be found in each other's bodies with the innocent eagerness of youth. While a considerate lover, the daily clutter of family life had left little respite for Raman to ponder too deeply over the pleasures of lovemaking. There is just such security in the bond of marriage. One always feels like there is all the time in the world with the other person. To hold and to cherish. Till death do them part. And he'd have stayed that way had his marriage not collapsed like that cliched pack of cards.

Once the sense of security was ripped away from him, Raman lived for himself. Shagun's betrayal had planted the seeds of bitterness in him that changed him in more ways than he would ever concede. Once bitten, twice shy, Raman had learnt to think of himself and himself alone. This turned out to be the magic key unlocking his meteoric path to success. And his self-injured soul had hardened even further. In matters of love as well as in other aspects of his life, he'd grown selfish. His partners never complained and he was now used to taking more than he would give away. 

And so, now as he studied the sleeping form of the woman lying next to him, Raman felt an indescribable wonder. Tonight he had wanted her to forget everything that seemed to torment her until she thought of nothing but him. And she had responded to his efforts like magic. It had spurred him on to heights he had never thought he would reach for. Watching her glow under his attention had brought him his final release. Long used to drawing away once that post-release clarity slid in, Raman had surprised himself in wishing to hold onto her instead. She had fallen asleep soon after but he'd lain awake, basking in the warmth of the embrace. 

The feeling would pass once Raman Bhalla once more recalled that the world was not this one room. He would remember to put his armour back on but as he slipped into sleep, there was a feeling of utter contentment that perhaps he himself did not quite fully comprehend.