With Mangoes And Chocolates | ✓

35. Madhumalti.

"Bhaaaavuuuk!" Manasvi yelled as loud as she could, but the wind pushed back her words. They never seemed to reach his ears. "Stay within the speed limits!"

She held him tightly, her heart beating so wild she thought it would catch fire. Never had she enjoyed a bike ride this much before.

The engine that had roared to life, the vibrating impulse, and the sky at five in the morning fit each other so perfectly; she could swear timing couldn't be more right.

Hints of oranges and yellows and pinks, polka dots of every vibrant color she could think, but a little dark, but also a little light.

She loved it.

She felt the speed decreasing with every passing second until he stopped somewhere. She didn't dare let go of him, his warmth.
"Are you addicted to me?"
"Shut up. No."

When she got off and looked around, they really were in the middle of nowhere. She recognized the place, though. Shaheed Path.

Deserted. She went and sat down on the yellow-black barrier at the periphery, stretching her legs. The morning was so fresh and dreamy she could feel it filling her lungs.

"Oi!" She called out, moving her fingers back and forth, signalling him to come over. "See what I found."

"What?" He asked as soon as he sat beside her.

She smiled and held his neck with her palms, raising herself just enough to peck his lips. "I love you."

Bhavuk pulled her closer by her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck. "Achha?"
She giggled and nodded. "Yes, yes."
"Achha?"
"Han ji han."

The ride back to his home was much more calmer, though just as exciting. When she reached the doorstep, it was already six. He stood beside her, raking his hair which got messed up by the wind.

His mom opened the door. "Returned? Had fun?"
Manasvi grinned. "Yes."
"Did he ride safe?"
"Yes."

She entered inside, glancing at kitchen and the already made breakfast. Mrs. Thakur had woken up early just so that she could make Bhavuk eat something before leaving for his flight.

Manasvi followed him around in his room. "Toothbrush? Charger? Laptop? Watch?"
"I've kept everything, Mehta. We've done this before."

"Right," she nodded hastily and stared at the mirror in his room. "I can't believe you're leaving. What's there in England, anyway? Eventually, you'll have to take over your father's responsibilities. Huh. When will you be back?"
She saw him hug her from the back. "Whenever you ask me to."

"Tch, I hate long-distance," she mumbled.
"I know." He fidgeted with the ends of the sleeves of her kurti which reached her wrists. "Why do you wear full sleeves even in summers?"

"It doesn't have a reason."
"Tell me, Manasvi."

"I just like covering myself." She pursed her lips. "There are some spots on my arms I'm not so secure about."

"Where?" He swirled her around so that she faced him, kissing her wrist. "Here? Or here," he asked, planting another kiss on her forearm and continued until he found her shoulder. "Or here?"