Beautiful disaster (completed)

Chapter 12 - Rainy Encounter With Mr. Jerk

I have been standing here for what feels like an eternity, waiting for the rain to stop. It has been an hour, and there are no signs of it letting up. The cold seeps into my bones, and I hug myself tightly, trying to find some warmth. I am all alone, lost in my thoughts, contemplating what to do next.

Lost in my thoughts, I felt a presence behind me. My heart skipped a beat, but I resisted the urge to turn around.

"Kiara, what are you still doing here?" a familiar voice called out, breaking the silence.

My anger flared up instantly upon recognizing the voice. It was him, the person I least wanted to see at that moment.

"How long are you going to stand here?" he persisted. "You can stay in my apartment until the rain stops."

I couldn't believe my ears. Did he just invite me to his apartment? The nerve of this guy! .

Anger surged through me, fueled by the recent argument we had. How dare he think I would accept his offer after what had just happened? But deep down, I knew that staying in his apartment was probably my best option at the moment. I couldn't afford to get drenched in the rain and catch a cold.

"Look, it's raining heavily, and it's not safe for you to here alone in parking," he said, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Don't act like you care

I scoffed at his words, not willing to entertain his concern for my wellbeing. Who was he to lecture me on safety? I had always taken care of myself just fine. But as the rain poured down heavily outside, I couldn't help but hesitate. Maybe he was right. Maybe it wasn't safe for me to venture out on my own.

Reluctantly, I turned around to face him. His smug smile made me want to punch him right then and there. But I had to keep my composure.

I turn to walk away, deciding to brave the rain rather than endure his presence any longer. I know it's a childish move, but I refuse to let him order me around. I thought he would finally leave, realizing the futility of his attempts to control me. Instead, he started walking towards me.

"DAMN IT, I AM TALKING TO YOU!" he suddenly exclaimed, his frustration evident in his grip on my arm. I didn't say anything, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, I freed my arm from his grasp and shot him a death glare, silently warning him to back off.

"DON'T EVER TRY TO TOUCH ME AGAIN," I yelled, my voice filled with anger and defiance. I thought he would stay rooted to the spot, realizing his mistake, but to my surprise, he followed me. He grabbed my arm once more, this time lifting me off my feet and carrying me in a bridal style.

"What the hell are you doing? Put me down!" I shouted, tapping my legs and struggling to free myself from his grasp.

"You left me with no choice," he finally spoke, his voice laced with frustration and concern. "trust me, this is for your own good. I can't let you go out there and catch a cold. You'll thank me later."

I rolled my eyes, not willing to admit that he might have a point. As much as I hated to admit it, Kabir had always been the responsible one, the voice of reason. And here I was, stubbornly refusing his help.

As he carried me through the rain, I couldn't help but notice how much he had changed. He was no longer the 18-year-old boy I had once admired from afar. Time had transformed him into a man, someone who exuded strength and confidence. But in that moment, all I felt was anger and resentment towards him.

The scene felt like something out of a romantic comedy movie, a moment that would have made my heart flutter a decade ago when I had a huge crush on him. But now, all I felt was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The temptation to give in to the allure of his touch warred with my sense of morality, reminding me of the reasons why I had distanced myself from him in the first place.

As we enter the building, worry floods my mind. What if someone sees us like this? What if they misunderstand? But he didn't seem to care.

He carried me up the stairs, his steps sure and steady. The rain-soaked clothes clung to our bodies, adding an extra layer of discomfort to the already tense atmosphere. The sound of our footsteps echoed through the empty hallway. I silently pray that we go unnoticed as he carries me up to the second floor and into his apartment.

I request him to put me down, but he ignores my plea, carrying me all the way to his living room. Thankfully, no one witnesses our unconventional entrance.

Finally, he reached the door and pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit room. he finally released his grip, setting me down on my feet. Anger surged through me, fueling my fury.

"What do you think of yourself? You can't force me like this!" I shouted, my voice trembling with indignation. How dare he treat me like this? He had no right to make decisions for me, to control my actions. I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest, still not willing to give him the satisfaction of gratitude.

But he ignored my words, disappearing into the bedroom and returning with a set of dry clothes and towel. He tossed them in my direction, expecting me to comply. At first, I refused, determined to stand my ground. But as the chill of the rain continued to seep into my bones, my resolve wavered. I begrudgingly accepted the clothes, realizing that perhaps, just this once, he had been right.

I grabbed a soft, fluffy, white towel and wrapped it around myself before blow-drying my hair. As I change into dry clothes he provides, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, wearing his ridiculous hoodie. His trousers were too big for me, so I couldn't wear them, and the hoodie was not long enough; it barely reached above my knees.

How on earth could I go out like this?

I couldn't help but wonder why he had invited me here. Was it out of guilt? Or did he genuinely want to make amends? My heart told me not to trust him, that he was just playing with my emotions once again. But a part of me wanted to believe that he had changed, that he could be different this time.

I glanced out of the window and noticed that the rain continued to pour. I needed a charger to charge my phone so I could call a cab, but what about my clothes? I couldn't possibly go out like this.

Peeking out of the room, I saw him sitting on the couch, a coffee mug in one hand and the other busy typing on his laptop. He had managed to dry his hair and change clothes, while I was stuck here in this ridiculous outfit. It was all his fault; he had put me in this embarrassing situation while he seemed to be enjoying his hot coffee without a care in the world. That's just not fair.

What should I do now?

An idea suddenly popped into my head, and a mischievous smirk formed on my face. Oh, Mr. Kabir, you will think twice before messing with me again.