Disguised Darling|✓

Episode 18

“You remind me of someone,” Samrat says one morning, making Mishti stop in her tracks from where she had been going to fetch the breakfast for the man, some crumpets for a change.

“It's the eyes, I think. They remind me of someone I knew.” He continues, an intent look present in his eyes as he stares at her as if trying to pinpoint the exact spot of resemblance, his index finger hovering in the air a little unsurely.

Mishti hesitantly turns towards him and wants to smack herself right after the words that escape her mouth.

"Is it your wife?"

A silence follows the question as several expressions pass through Samrat's face, half of which Mishti isn't able to decipher. Though the faraway look that suddenly takes over his face tells her that it isn't the most intelligent thing she could have said or the happiest memory that she could have unlocked.

Samrat quirks his lips into a bitter smirk when he looks up at her.

“My wife, huh? You've heard it too.”

It’s a statement, not a question, yet when Mishti tries to deny the truth, a bitter chuckle escapes the man's lips as he shakes his own head, his chuckle turning less and less bitter every passing second.

“No, you don't remind me of wife. No one does. One should have some good memories to be reminded of someone but with her….” He sighs, shaking his head. “So, no, Preeti –”

“Mishti.” The girl in question quips unhelpfully.

This time when the man's lips twitch, it is not to manifest into a bitter smirk or something equally frivolous but something genuine.

“Hmm?”

Mishti swallows. “Nothing, not many people call me by that name – Preeti – so it always feels a bit weird coming from you. But – But I understand it's my workplace and all that.” She sighs, forcing a smile on her face.

It’s then when it happens. Mishti notes the exact moment a softness overpowers any remnants of displeasure on the man's face, his eyes lighting up as his lips bloom into a smile for the whole world to see, face morphing itself into something equally gentle as he says –

“No, Mishti….”

The girl's breath positively hitches in her throat.

“You don’t remind me of her. Though it’s indeed someone from my past that you remind me of. A girl.” 

Samrat doesn’t give Mishti a chance to wipe off the smile from her lips at the mention of some random woman from his past when he continues. “I sometimes don’t understand if it was all just a dream, or it really happened, but I see this girl in a scarf sometimes when I close my eyes. I was at my lowest when she came and said those words. It was a fateful encounter. She…. saved me.” He says, a huff of breath escaping his mouth with a wet undertone to it. 

Samrat looks her in the eyes as he continues. “You remind me of her.”

Mishti exhales a stuttering breath hearing those words, belatedly realising that the eyes he is talking about is hers, the girl that he remembers is no one else but her. It makes warmth bloom in her chest and nervousness bubble up in her stomach. 

She clears her throat, averting her gaze. “I – I've prepared the crumpets you asked for. Should I – should I bring them?”

To her surprise, the smile doesn't waver from the man's face as he nods. “Would love some, Mishti.”

The redness that flushes through Mishti’s cheek stays there for the rest of the day, the smile refusing to go away.

*