Forget-Me-Not: Taste of Freedom

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

      It was early Thursday morning, and Dia had no mind to get out of bed until ten. However, when the phone rang, she couldn't help but groan. She pushed her arm out, patting around for the phone. Then one eye popped open... she surveyed her side of the room, her phone by the night stand, and scowled. It wasn't her phone that was ringing, it was Varun's.

      "Varun, pick up your phone, damn it," she said, turning around to face him. Instead, she met with an empty bed. "Oh, for heaven's sake," she muttered, falling back on her pillow. She pulled the covers over her head, wrapping them around her face. Moments, later, the phone stopped ringing. Dia grunted, settling into the warmth of her bed. Varun was an early riser on weekdays—and by early, you could say super-early, like super-early before the sun had risen. It was a habit she would never understand. She could never wake up before nine, let alone at sunrise.

      The bathroom door opened and someone stumbled out. A lot of shuffling happened. Then the cupboard door opened and hangers rattled as Varun looked for a shirt. Dia closed her ears tight, burying deeper into bed, annoyed that she was wide awake instead of sleepy. Something was wrong with her sleep alarm. She never woke up before nine, except on rare cases or when she was writing. This was not a rare case. She wanted to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come.

      Varun's phone rang again, vibrating on the bedside table, causing her to scowl once more.

      "Shut that damn phone off," she muttered, peeking over the covers.

      "Sorry," Varun said, coming over to the bed. 

       Dia, however, was still peeking over the covers. He hadn't put on his shirt. He was holding it in one hand as he bent to check his phone, his wet hair flopping over his forehead. The striped orange towel hung low over his hips. The rest of him... well, damn. He looked positively edible. Droplets of water ran down his neck and shoulders, drawing her eyes lower. Dia's gaze unconsciously followed the clean, sharp lines of his chiseled face, his neck, down to his toned muscular arms and torso... then realizing the direction of her gaze as well as her thoughts, she dove under the covers, closing her eyes. Her mouth was dry... her stomach was rumbling. Idiot, she scolded herself. Stop ogling.

      Good lord. What was wrong with her? First she got jealous when she saw him with another woman, and now she was eye-fucking her husband.

     I need sleep, Dia thought seriously. Or else I'm going to want to peek over the covers once again.

     "You alright in there?" Varun's voice reached her ears through the layers of blankets. Dia felt it safer not to look at him; she remained in her position, grunting in reply.

     "If you plan to suffocate yourself to death, this is a nice way to do it." Amusement laced his voice.

     "Don't you have to go to work?" she shot back. But she did pull the covers down from her face, keeping her back firmly to him. She was not going to look at him again, but as he said, she didn't want to suffocate to death, either.

      "I'm getting ready."

      "Yeah, taking your sweet time doing so," she muttered.

      "Why are you awake?"

       "I don't know. Something is wrong with my sleep alarm."

      "Huh?"

      "Nothing. Just go away soon."