Book 3 of the Mangoverse
▪︎No matter how good the hero is, he is still a villain in someone's story▪︎
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A story of anti-heroes. Two people with a strong dislike for the world learn to thrive together in an arranged marriage.
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"You agreed to marry my girlfriend?" I look away from the charcoal in my hand, the canvas that is nothing but blank lines at the moment, and look up at my brother.
"Welcome back, little brother."
"Don't play games with me Vivaan. Why did you agree to the marriage." His voice is too high to be standing in a studio. Isn't all this sorted yet?
"Hush down now Lakshay, if someone other than me sees you they'll figure out your good boy lie. Also the walls here echo." I move my finger in the air, gesturing for the room. He doesn't look around, keeps his gaze on me. His jaw clenches. So good to see him all riled up. I really enjoy it.
"And what will they think of you? Huh, Vivaan? The man who agreed to marry the woman his brother has always been with?"
"You see Lakshay, I never really bothered about what they think of me. I didn't spend the better part of my life, trying to put up the image of the golden boy. They can hate me all they want. It's not any of my concern." His exasperated sigh grates on my nerves. Pushing me to the brink of wanting to bang something on the wall. His head probably. Or mine.
"So many years and you still don't understand. It's not an act Vivaan. Being a good person isn't so hard." I ignore him. I am not in the mood for his lecture. "You have to refuse to marry her."
"Now, why would I do that? She is a wonderful woman and I, am not an idiot to refuse a proposal that very specifically came for me. Also, shut the door on your way out." I pick the charcoal up and just as I bring it up to the canvas, the door slams.
Good lord, he is going to pay if it ever breaks.
The black char falls from my shaky fingers, the tremors much worse this time. My hands shake, bad enough for me to put them under my thighs and press them into the stool I am sitting on.
He gets me so fucking angry at times. It's getting more difficult to not snap his neck and live the rest of my life in peace. But if he dies, that too at my hands, my parents would turn this house into a permanent shrine for him and the peace I so desperately want would be all gone.
The woman on the couch moves slightly.
Oh, I forgot about her.
Small brown eyes stare up at me. Her lips tucked inside so as to not speak before thinking. That's smart. A blue silk sheet wrapped around her naked frame, looking like waves. Her mouth opens, and I turn back to my canvas. She shuts it and then opens it again only to shut it back.
"Just spit it out!" That gets her to work.
"Now that you are getting married, would you stop all this?" I raise a brow. "You gotta be more clear than that."
