Sweet 'n' Sour | ✔

twenty

20. Thoda idhar, nahi thoda udhar. (A little here, no a little there.)

•°•

I was in the middle of taking off my t-shirt when Priya entered the room with a little bowl containing the heated oil. She stopped at the threshold, startled at the sight of me. I looked away, completely removing my t-shirt and tossing it on my side of the bed. She walked in hesitantly, standing in the middle of the room, just waiting for me to take the lead. I stood clueless, thinking of ways to make our situation less awkward and uncomfortable. I had absolutely forgotten the little detail that I'll have to take off my t-shirt in order to receive her help. And by the looks of her face, it seemed like she had forgotten about it as well. So now we both stood in front of each other, trying not to get awkward around each other, while being extremely awkward from within.

"I- I'll sit at the foot of the bed," I said, as usual my permanent role as an ice breaker in each of our conversations. She nodded, agreeing wordlessly. While I went and settled on the floor, with my knees pulled up and elbows resting on them, she climbed the bed before scooting behind me.

I watched her indecisiveness about where to put the oil so I offered her my hand. "Thanks," she murmured, placing the bowl on my palm. Her slender fingers dipped into the oil before she cupped her free hand under it to catch the excess and moved it towards my shoulder.

I sighed when the warm oil made contact with my muscles. She spread it evenly, her fingers prancing across my shoulders, rolling my muscles and pressing her thumbs onto my skin. "Where does it actually hurt?"

"To the right,"

"Here?"

"A little to the left,"

"Here?"

"No, slightly upwards."

"Now?"

"You're more than slightly upwards. A little down."

She sighed exasperatedly, her hand traveling down. "Now?"

I placed the bowl on the floor and grabbed her hand that was on my shoulder, guiding it to the exact spot. "Here," I said, my hand lingering on top of hers longer than necessary.

"Okay," she whispered.

I slid my hand off her, letting it fall back to my knee. She began to massage the spot that had me rolling in pain since this morning. It felt so much better now because she actually knew how to do a massage instead of just pressing for the sake of it. I tilted my head to the side, tapping my neck for some assistance there. She pressed her hand down my neckline, obeying instantly. I smiled. "You know how to massage."

"Hmm," she responded. "My dad used to play basketball on weekends. So on Sunday evenings I regularly used to see mom giving his shoulders a massage. For a non-athletic person, your shoulders are stiffer than usual." She mumbled, gently pressing onto the right spots. "It cannot be just the physical exertion. You stress a lot, don't you?"

I closed my eyes in bliss. "Who doesn't?"

"Not to the point that you physically suffer," she advised.

I chuckled. "I can't help it."

She didn't say anything after that and we fell into a comfortable silence.

"Do you go to the gym?" She asked a while later.

"No," I answered. "I can't for the life of me handle that level of a healthy lifestyle." I snickered. "Bhai tried to bribe me with VIP membership at this high-end gym where celebrities go but even that wasn't enough to persuade me. Why do you ask?"