Disguised Darling|✓

Episode 43

“How are you feeling now?”

“I’m fine, doctor.”

“That’s good to hear. Stay healthy, all right? I’ll see you in my next shift with the discharge papers.”

“Yeah.”

The doctor takes a leave but the girls sitting behind Mishti don’t.

Aisha shrieks and Ruhi giggles.

“He was totally flirting with you.”

As usual, an utterly ridiculous statement escapes Aisha’s mouth to which Mishti rolled her eyes. And yet there is a small smile on her face, liking the way they are all sitting together and even though her hands were yet to be free of the metaphorical handcuffs, she likes how they were free at least physically.

“You don’t say.” Ruhi agrees.

“Samrat would be jealous,” Aisha adds quietly, her voice filled with uncertainty, not knowing if she’s allowed to talk about the man yet or not, but the way Mishti just pokes her tongue at her at the comment, she exhales a breath of relief, poking her tongue back.

Mishti on the other hand looks at the man in question who sits outside the hospital room, visible from the glass door while her brother sits beside him, this time without any disguise, free. All her friends are.

Mishti knows it has something to do with Samrat but can’t find herself to care if the way he chose was legal or not. She’s the last person to think about ethicality and legality after all, no one was there to teach her that.

Though seeing the two men sitting side by side and yet trying to ignore each other as much as they can, was funny. Especially after reminiscing the fact how her brother had barged into the door yesterday and was sitting there utterly confused on why their former target was sitting on the bed with his sister, at a distance that he wouldn’t ever let strangers cross. Even if he knew that the man was the reason that he was freely being able to roam in the hospital, and not with the tag of a con artist or thief, he still had his fears. 

Trust was an expensive thing after all, far from their affordability.

Samrat on the other hand had been momentarily startled but had schooled his expressions immediately, clearing his throat and getting up from the bed, his gaze flitting between the brother-sister duo and settling on the latter. 

“I’ll see you.” Samrat had said to her, but Mishti hadn’t been able to reply anything, too busy avoiding eye contact with her brother, thinking all the answers that she could say should her brother ask her about anything.

Thankfully though, her brother had just walked in and sat on the bed, giving Samrat a civil nod who returned the gesture walking out of the room. He had then given his sister the tenderest of smiles, gently caressing her head and Mishti had smiled in return, putting her head on his shoulder. 

From the corner of her eyes, she had seen Samrat turning around for a moment and smiling at the scene before walking out of her line of sight.

Mishti is shaken out of her reverie with a knock on the door, her gaze falling on the woman who enters through it, wearing a sky-blue kurta and jeans, around her neck hangs an Id card just like it does on the clueless first years in the university or a journalist.

Mishti doesn’t think that she is a student.

She looks outside the glass window but is unable to find any sign of her brother or Samrat. 

She suddenly feels nervous, though thankfully she has her friends to answer on her behalf.

“Yes? How may I help you?” Aisha asks in an abrupt tone, while Ruhi takes a more polite approach.