JUNE 2015 ( Five months ago), INDIA
It was a good distraction.
She needed it, so did he. It had become a necessity to remain sane.
--
"Are we meeting today?"
"You want to meet?"
"I like to follow a routine."
"Always the control freak, Sharon, always."
"Your euphemisms need improvement. Is that a yes or no?"
"Can I ever refuse you?"
"I can think of several instances where you have."
"I'll be there sweetplum."
--
A month had passed since they met and surprisingly, the comfort level had been established already. Though to be fair, it was on a shallow level but significant none the less. Both of them knew the other had something majorly wrong in their life but accepted that time would allow them to share it. He never thought he could make such a mature decision. She never thought she'd be so disturbed by what he was possibly hiding.
"Why on earth did you call me sweetplum Swayam?" She asked suddenly, her usually soft voice turning a notch up, wandering into the menacing territory.
Unfazed, he took a sip of his coffee "Do you know how rare it is for me to get plums which are sweet?" He stared right into her eyes "And I found you, something I didn't expect to happen. So there you go sweetplum." He never sounded so sincere.
She knew he was just playing around but couldn't help but feel flattered hearing his thought behind sweetplum. She smiled at her sudden stupidity. And then, she shuddered. GAH! Sweetplum.
"So, isn't it only fair that I come up with a nickname for you."
"Life isn't fair, Sharon."
She looked at him, an eyebrow raised, waiting for him to elaborate. The statement seemed too sudden. There was no denying that the statement was commonplace but the way he said it made her believe there was a backstory to it and it ruffled her feathers to see his aura turn broody; it was too much of a rarity to ignore.
"What scarred you Swayam?"
"You. I've always wanted to see your skirt blow up like Marilyn Monroe, but I know that'll never happen." he gave an exaggerated sigh "and its unfair."
She shook her head, exasperated.
"Stop deflecting. This our fourth meeting and you've already spouted eight cryptic statements." the icy edge from her voice faded away "If something is bothering you Swayam, you can share it with me, but if you aren't ready to, it's okay. Just stop with the ambiguous words. As much as I respect your privacy, my limits; my patience is limited."
All of a sudden, the comfort had been lost. They both drank their coffee in silence, wondering if and how to break the awkward spell.
"What about you?"
"Huh?"
Swayam placed the coffee cup on the table, and looked at her seriously, his interlocked fingers supporting his chin. "What scarred you?"
"What scarred me?" a defensive edge crept in her voice "Whatever gave you that impression."
"Oh come on." He raised an eyebrow at her, his lips twisted in a lopsided humourless smirk, the playfulness sucked out from his voice "A person meets a classmate after fifteen years, one he didn't even care about much. What does he do? He greets the classmate, has a drink with him, exchanges numbers perhaps and goes back to his life. May even talk to the classmate once in a month or so, but you," he shook an accusing finger "you have taken this way beyond the line. You plan to meet me everyday, not that I object to it, talk about anything but yourself and then exercise your right over me. Of course you are screwed up."
Sharon stared at him in silence, completely taken aback. Yes, she knew he was smart but she hadn't realised he would study her so well and give such a precise report. She was awed by how quickly the tables had turned.
"You are still deflecting. And you're wrong, Sherlock; I'm not screwed up. Not as much as you think."
"Aha! So you admit you're screwed up."
"Everyone is. Also, stop deflecting! This is about you, not me."
He smirked at her. "You are the one deflecting now, Sharon, not me." he raised the cup to his mouth only to realise it was empty. He put it down and looked at her, somewhat pleased to see her perfect aura scattered.
"You need to be willing to give if you're going to take, Sharon."
--
Her eyes were filled with tears which flowed down his shirt, as her head rested against his chest, her form shaking in his arms. He felt sad and helpless to see her in this state. He hadn't meant to be so harsh to her, hadn't meant to force her into revealing the truth. He wondered if he'd have been better off not knowing. Sighing, he stroked her head, in an attempt to give the comfort he knew she wouldn't receive.
She grabbed his shirt in her fists, her embrace tighter than an anaconda's. She didn't care she was suffocating him. After all, he was the one who wanted to know the truth. The dam had been broken, and by Swayam Shekawat, the last person she had thought she'd seek solace in. She felt his hand wound around her nape, gently pulling her face up to him. His eyes bored into hers and she saw him leaning in. Knowing it was inevitable, she leaned in and they met halfway.
The kiss was urgent, sweet and everything contradictory.
Edited by Rhapsody. - 8 years ago
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