She jumped out of bed at the first sound of alarm. Gloria Gaynor's full throated Survival Anthem echoed through the apartment. Khushi complained to no one in particular, as she was wont to do every morning. The week was marked for graveyard shift and she was a trooper who volunteered for it every single time.
"I'll survive!" sang a full throated Gloria and Khushi made a face singing and mocking the lyrics at the same time. She kicked off the thick comforter protecting her from subzero temperatures of a wintry and much windy Chicago.
"Oh! blasted blizzard!" she cussed under her breath and groped for her warm comfy loafers in the dark.
A quick shower and light make up later, Dr. Khushi Kumari Gupta was set to attend E.R. Pulling her long, thermaliner galoshes, she checked her well fitted jeans in the hallway mirror of her apartment. Her beauty did not escape her, bringing a short smirk of satisfaction. Not prone to gloating, she quickly reminded her of dark circles under her eyes - a curse of the grave yard shift.
It was a half a mile jaunt through two inch-thick layer of snow. The pristine, white powdery snow quickly piled on the sidewalk, as her galoshes left footprints behind her. She pushed through the huge automated revolving doors of Northwestern Memorial Hospital and thumped her boots to push the snow off her footwear.
She was home.
+++++
The dark figure followed Khushi from her apartment to the hospital building. The line of ambulances and cop cars outside the hospital stopped the man mid step. He dunked behind a large pillar and observed the girl enter the building
"Its a matter of days, " He took out his phone and made a few notes in them.
"Hasta Manana, Dr. Gupta." and then he left.
+++++
Agent Arnav Singh Raizada, tucked away his .32 caliber into his waist holster away from sight. The night watch was coming to its end, beckoning much needed sleep denied him for three straight weeks. The stubbly, ruggedly handsome face checked the rear view mirror of his car, noting his replacement pull into the curb. He shifted the gears and accelerated out of the vicinity before his boss, Kevin Calhoun had a chance to change his mind.
The Lincoln Park suburban town home was a handsome little perch fit for the bachelor. At 29, ASR, as he was commonly called by colleagues struggling to twist their tongues around unwieldiness of his name, was a sight to behold. Tall, dark, gruff with rugged good looks set on firm jaws, he was a salve to sore eyes. He opened his apartment door and as soon as he was in, he began shedding his clothes, divesting himself of the weariness of the past few weeks.
His athletic body relaxed in the hot shower while his eyes shot blood red due to lack of sleep. He hit the sack, his thick dark hair still wet, and fell asleep instantly, slick, sexy and all muscles.
Hollywood
Naagin 7
Health and Fitness
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5