Making You Mine

one - good girl

Abhimanyu Birla, CEO of Birla Industries was busy typing away on his laptop as the raindrops pelted against the windows of his Mercedes Benz, getting louder with every touch. He was a man of a few words and despite Mumbai being his home, he couldn't stand the swarm of foot traffic and constant noise pollution that overshadowed the city.

"What is taking so damned long?!" Abhimanyu grumbled, tapping furiously at his laptop.

"Sir, the road is being blocked." His driver informed him, fear chilling through his veins.

"Blocked? What do you mean bloody blocked?" Abhimanyu questioned, his anger sitting at the edge of his nose.

He glanced up from his laptop and put the windshield to see a group of young kids crossing the road carrying tiny umbrellas. And that's when he spotted her, standing in the middle of the road, controlling the swarm of kids by waving them over as they crossed the road. She was wearing a pale pink churidaar with silver bangles adorning her wrists and big silver jhumkas dangling from her ears.

"Beautiful." He mumbled to himself out loud.

Because she was. Beautiful that is. And gorgeous. Regal too. Nothing less than an angel, really. His angel.

Involuntarily he opened his car door and stepped out, just letting himself be transcended into a world only they existed, no one else. His feet began to drag themselves in her direction while he mindlessly followed. He stood beside her, at first just watching her direct the children to cross the road, until she looked at him that is.

She glanced his way, their eyes connected. He may have seemed like a madman to her. And he was. Mad for her beauty, her poise, her simplicity. Or just simply mad for her.

She raised her chin in his direction questioning him about what the hell he was doing, just staring at her like she was his whole entire world. He shook his head, his eyes glossy with desire as he slowly began snapping out of the hold she had on him and began helping her direct the children's foot traffic.

"Let's go kids." He called out to them, and patting their backs one by one as they crossed by him.

He hated kids. Detested them. Couldn't stand them. But for her, for his girl —the one standing beside him, with her big bold eyes and her tiny face —he'd do anything.

"Thank you." Her voice was as silky as it was sweet. Melodious too.

"No problem, happy to help." He answered. He could almost laugh at his own duplicity.

The Abhimanyu Birla and help were two words no one would ever join together —not even in their wildest dreams.

"I'm Abhimanyu, by the way. Abhimanyu Birla." He introduced himself as the last of the kids crossed them.

"Nice to meet you Abhimanyu. I am Akshara. Goenaka. Akshara Goenka." She offered as they crossed the road together to where all the kids had gathered together.

Akshara. The name suited her. His gaze then fell down to the name tag that she was wearing. "Chayya Children's Home?"

She looked down at her tag and smiled in admiration. "Yes. I volunteer at the Chayya Children's Home and help the kids learn everything from music to dance to art every day. And the occasional outing like today. That is until the rain stopped us. But we still had fun. Right kids?" Akshara turned around to face the group of 10 kids.