17 | We over Me •

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Aditya's Pov.

"Isha turn to the previous channel now." I rebuked, glaring at my unfazed sister who had her face hanging in pure curiosity. I wonder what fun she gets watching random women walk on the ramp wearing all sorts of otherworldly attires.

She regarded me with an indifferent snort, fueling my annoyance, "Tujhe dikh ni raha I was watching the news?" I scooted closer and snatched the remote from her.

Murderous would be an understatement to the gaze she directed in my direction. Camouflaging the fear buzzing in my heart, I pinned her with my brotherly glower.

"Kya hai?" She whined in frustration, blatantly forgetting that she was in my room, on my bed, and watching my television wearing the clothes and accessories I bought for her.

Kicking her shin in the slightest manner that left her wailing like a fish, she scurried all across the room in an attempt to chase me. Her unceremonious shrieks and yells blared inside the room along with her long, knife-like nails thrashing me in the process. Within ten minutes of this torture, I announced my defeat, plopping my exhausted body on the bed.

"I won!" She exclaimed, pride shining in her eyes and energy still running in her veins. To add fire to my already burnished soul, she raised the remote in front of me, showcasing me her prize.

Shaking my head at her antics, I hit the back of her head. Another round of cries and shrieks followed before she voiced threateningly,

"Let Dad come from Hoshiarpur, I'll tell Dad what you did to me." Despite her nose scrunched, eyes narrowed, and cheeks puffed, she poorly failed to terrorize me.

A gasp escaped her throat, probably after witnessing the traitor smile of amusement on my lips, "Hass rahe ho? Aane do Dad ko. Fir has ke dikhana." She scowled, "So much violence is happening in this house, and that too with me." She pointed towards her. Dramatic? Very much.

"To this innocent, sweet, and little angel of this heavenly abode." I wondered how could she lie so smoothly about herself.

"Kya?" I blinked my eyes in stupefaction, "Innocent? Sweet? And what? Angel? Kaun?" My eyes searched frantically for the three different women she was talking about. Her glare transmuted to a frustrated groan, stomping her foot on the floor in dismay. If she has blackmailing as a weapon to irk me, so do I. Simply disregard her words of innocence about her and she'll scurry like her tail on fire.

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