A/N: This was originally meant for Set Fire to The Rain. However, due to the Malik track, I could not logically fit this in time for Vday. Hence, I made this OS. Yes, it can be read as a stand alone. You do not have to worry about the past or the future. Background: Madhu is a law student in Mumbai & Rishabh studies in Harvard. They are married & continue their relationship long distance owing to their respective career choices.
p.s. I have not written anything of this genre before. For those of us who go way back, spare me the cynicism. Genuine critique and appreciation is welcome.
Day 1.Cambridge, Massachusetts.
"Hello, Madhu. I..."
"I will call you in twenty minutes. I am busy".
Day 2. Raised Anxiety. Cambridge, Massachusetts.
"Listen, I have an exam in ten. I just wanted to say good luck on the case and...Malik. Anyway, call me".
Day 5. Feeling bad. Mumbai, India.
"Hey, Rishabh I know it's you. I can't pick up right now but, email me or something. Please leave a message at the tone".
Day 7. Genuinely concerned. Cambridge, Massachusetts.
"Madhu, I emailed you for the tenth time in a week. I am getting worried. Why haven't you spoken on the phone? Is your voice okay? Call me".
On the other side of the world, resided a piece of his heart. Madhubala Rishabh Kundra finally had the time to catch her breath and check her voicemail. Her inbox was flooded with messages from her husband; his voice sounding increasing hoarse with every message. He had been drinking but, more importantly, it was four hours till Valentines' day.
"Jesus Christ, I am heartless. I have been ignoring him for the past one week. I forgot about our first Valentines' together. He is very angry and I am sure of it".
She packed a change of clothing and smile and head over to the Kundras' private jet. This would be the first time she would go against her political beliefs and indulge in the luxury that came with being a Kundra. But, that was not important. What mattered was, she had messed up. The impeccable Madhubala Kundra would have missed her date with her husband had there a not been a time difference between India and the States.
"Rishabh, I know I am wrong. You have the right to be angry. But, I am here", she would say and he would melt at the sight of her glittering eyes.
Or, more likely, her smooth legs would win him over. Either way, she dismissed her statement on the grounds of sounding too insincere.
"Tell me how to make it up to you. Anything. This would probably calm him down", she thought.
From the plane's walk in closet, she picked up short white number than barely covered the essentials. Then, reject it because it was too raunchy and terribly inappropriate for the Harvard weather. The sequin dress was shot down for precisely the same reasons. Finally, she settled on black salwar kameez. RK had always had a thing for his desi girl. There was that winning smile back on her face. She had got him all figured out. She might be the up and coming corporate lawyer by fate and he the crown prince of the Kundra empire. But, enclosed within the four walls they called home, he was the husband and she was the wife. And, the husband needed pleasing.
As she pulled up into the driveway of the Cambridge mansion, Madhubala spotted shrivelled roses in the corner garden. This meant he was upset. Rishabh was stop watering the plants to warn the neighbours not to trouble him when angry.
"I am home", her voice faintly travelled across the room from underneath the layers of woolen scarfs. Rishabh came running down. He touched and felt Madhubala to ensure her well-being. Once content, he pulled away, visibly annoyed.
She was clear on what to do next. It was time for some serious damage control: Madhubala style. As the thick fabric covering her desi avatar slipped away, Rishabh was intrigued. She had surprised him enough to capture his attention. A French song would lead to a French kiss later, she pep talked herself into singing a romantically charged song. Romantic being the acceptable form of the word.
[YOUTUBE]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2vFOzG3GYqo[/YOUTUBE]
"I could just eat you up", he clued with a half raised eyebrow. The dishes in his hand landed in the sink louder than usual; this was her sign. All was forgiven on Valentines' day. A grin unknowingly appeared on his face, her senses adored his touch. He scooped her up like vanilla; her stomach propped against the kitchen counter.
"You are going to bake me some cake", his hands explored her glowing skin. Madhubala was not the most patient person when choosing instant gratification over passive romance.
"Only if you don't stop", she tried hand at flattery.
"I haven't started yet", he took the bait.
"You are fine", she played with his elitist hairdo.
"You are lying", he was pleasantly surprised by his feisty girl. "Cake, now".
"Foreplay much?" She searched for her kurta that had cunningly found its way across the room.
"You are such a pervert". He supplied his button down before her gifts became too much of a distraction.
"I learned from the best".
comment:
p_commentcount