With Mangoes And Chocolates | ✓

20. A favour.

I stared at my fingers. One, two, three. Ten.

The genuineness in his voice filled my mind with a mess of colorful strings. Haphazard.

People often misunderstood the meaning of innocence. The sheer harmlessness, no desire to randomly hurt someone, and having a straight perception was what I'd define as innocence. Bhavuk had his good share of innocence. He might hurt people, sure, but not just for the sake of it.

He had trouble understanding his own feelings. Whatever he felt. He'd never gone through intense moments. When it came to emotional acknowledgement, his brain was tabula rasa.

When we agreed to get together, we both knew how casual it would be. We both knew how high school relationships meant absolutely nothing except having fun and experiencing stuff.

You know where falling in love was in our "expected" list? Nowhere.

No one could fall in love at sixteen except Augustus Waters and Hazel Grace. Oh, and Percy and Annabeth. Ron and Hermione. . .Romeo and Juliet. . .

Whatever.

Around two lakh seventeen thousand words in English language yet I didn't know what to reply.

"Your fever is taking a toll on you," I said.
"It's something that I feel like it should be addressed because it's huge."

"You're thinking so logically about it," I explained, my voice calm and gentle. "You love cricket. You love football. You love geographical politics. You love debating. You love your watch. That's how you love me. It's same."

"No. I think about you all the time. Don't you think about me?" His brows pulled together in a frown, eyes at me, searching for answers.

Of course I did. I thought about him more than I could ever explain it to him. Or myself.

I stood up and drew the curtain over the window. "You need to rest."
"Don't be stupid."

"Of course." I laughed. "Nothing really matters, Bhavuk. Boards are nearing. We might have to leave each other real soon."
"We can manag—"

"How long? Till when?"
"As long as it works."
"I might shift to Delhi after tenth."

The air around us shifted and thickened so bad that I could feel it pressing against my skin. Prickling.

Bhavuk didn't dare show any expressions but his mind was definitely rummaging around, engineering new possibilities.

"Why? It's not a healthy place."
"Parents."
"What chances?"
"Like, eighty percent."

The clock ticked loud in the room. One. Two. Three. Seven. Ten or eleven.

"Long dis—" he began, his voice feeble but somehow hopeful.
"Never works."
"Everything works if you make it work." Typical him.

I sighed, whirling the spoon in circles inside the empty cup. "It's getting late. I need to leave. I'll check on you later, okay?"

I leaned over and pressed my lips against the temple of his forehead. How hot, even now.
"I swear if you get infected or something. . ."
"As if I care. Besides, my immunity is stronger." I smiled. "Please sleep and take care, Thakur. Listen to your mom."