Match Made in Heaven

uninvited guest

u n i n v i t e d
GUEST

chapter two — ❛ come in, come in ❜
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THE SAYING 'WHEN TWO WORLDS COLLIDE' was clearly taken literally as Kyda opens her front door only to see a pair of hazel eyes focusing on her face. She refuses to pay attention to the way a singular wavy lock dangles across his forehead, so nonchalantly that the neatly combed hair didn't look disarrayed.

Brushing her palms over her dress, she smooths the ruffled material before pushing the wet hair away from the nape of her neck. Of course, it had to be Azhar to see her fresh out of the shower and with no makeup on. "Hi, I, uh, I didn't know you'd be coming over?"

"Sorry for the sudden visit, I was told to come. Aunty Pranavi has something for my mum." He pauses, craning his neck side to side, stretching the muscles. He must've been tired from a long shift at the bank. "I'm just here to collect it."

Before she could reply, or even nod, a loud voice from the kitchen interrupts their conversation—if you could count that as one.

"Beta? Who's at the door? Oh, Azhar! Come in, come in."

Kyda's mother brushes past her and grabs the man with such force, urging him to take a seat, that he couldn't even take off his shoes properly. Though his uncomfortable expression was a dead giveaway that he would rather be anywhere but here. Kyda couldn't help but grin at how comedic the situation looked.

"Aunty, really, it's alright, I can have dinner at home, don't stress yourself out." His deep voice resonates in their living room, almost filling it so naturally as if it were his home.

A low chuckle escapes from him when Kyda's mother grabs his shoulder, pushing him towards the already set table. Kyda stood with one hand on the doorknob and the other on her hip, not knowing if she should shut it or leave it open for Azhar to escape—settling with the former.

Ultimately he has no say in this, you can never say no to food when it's offered to you on a silver platter. Watching him sit on one of the chairs, she realises how tense the situation was for him as his shoulders droop with a sense of relaxation.

"Kyda, go grab him another plate, please."

Her father was still at work and will be coming home late, the two women were not expecting to be dining with a third person today but you can't go against fate.

Not only is she forced to sit opposite him, but she also can't move because this is her favourite spot; her designated seat, and it's the perfect seat that allows her to get up and run up the stairs. Without looking his way, she passes him the pot of daal but to reach the other of the table she has to slightly stretch as her limbs aren't long enough, thus knocking their knees together.

Momentarily, she ceases, blinking a couple of times before both of them clear their throats. Talk about being awkward. Damn him and his long legs. Kyda certainly didn't miss the curious glance from her mother, eyes shifting from one to the other; she knew that exact look—raised brows and frown lines appearing in between.

Kyda's face flares up, burning so bright and hot at that moment that she felt like the sun; it's summer but the air conditioning was crispy enough to make it feel as though it's winter. Pushing down the new wave of emotions, she also ignores the way he unbuttons his gold cufflinks, carefully pushing the sleeves of his white shirt over his forearms. At the newly exposed skin, Kyda lowers her gaze, this was not the appropriate time to fantasise about the veins adorning his smooth tan skin.

It's just unfair.

Dinner. That's all it is, there's no need to make it a bigger deal than it seems because it's not like they'll be getting married. At the realisation of her own thoughts, she chokes. Loudly, at that. You'd think it would be her lovely mother, who gave birth to her graciously, to pass her a glass of water, but no. Her precious mum was too busy lecturing her about her eating habits, and how she should chew slower and not swallow too fast.

Instead, it's Azhar who raises a glass of water in her direction. Completely surprising her. "Here, have this."

As she reaches for it, their fingers graze accidentally and she is not at fault. His palm almost covers the whole circumference of the glass making it impossible for their skin not to touch. However, what she will disregard is the instant butterflies emerging in her stomach storming towards her extremely past pacing heart.

"You've been jittery this whole week, Kyda, what has gotten into you?" It's a fair question but she was not about to explain in front of him how she has been overthinking that one silly comment her aunt has made days ago.

"It's really nothing mum," she reassures the best she could. "Work just has been a bit tougher, that's all." It wasn't a complete lie, she is working on a hard case at the moment.

Azhar's stare is profound, his hands stop as the food pleads with him for it to be eaten. Only then does Kyda wonder whether he knows about the rumours spreading across like wildfire in their family circle, whether he felt trapped, annoyed or felt anything.

But one sheepish glance towards him answers all of her questions. He definitely knew.