AryLie : THE GIFT OF TIME

3: War of Words C) The Confrontation

Imlie kept lying down even as She sensed the familiar weighted footsteps, and gritted her teeth amidst the salt of the tears.

Akkadbagha kahinka. Hmm !

He can keep His one thousand udhaars.

Aryan gently closed the doors, walked over and kept the glasses of buttermilk on the side table, and concernedly stood by Imlie's side to check on Her.

Imlie clutched the pillow harder as She heard the faint clank of the Glasses being kept in the Table and His shadow loomed over Her on the opposite wall.

"Imlie .... are you - DAFUQ !"

The pillow landed smack dab on His face as Imlie swiftly flung it in a neat projectile, and sat up facing Him with a heated dagger glare.

Aryan stumbled a bit back at the hit, yet quickly regained the balance to meet Her glare, as His eyes filled with unconcealed mirth, and he struggled to keep laughter at bay.

Ofcourse. She was a Jungli after all.

Well, Game On, Jungli.

Not being one to back out, Aryan threw the kurta and shawl on his arms at Her, while Imlie flailed her limbs trying to find the ends of His long shawl that had covered her head and face.

"Akkadbaghe, take these off !"

"I have already taken them off me."

"I.MEANT. TO.TAKE.THEM.OFF.MY.FACE !!!! 😠"

"You can smack me with a Pillow, but I can't retaliate ? Not fair, Imlie."

"Peet ma koni maarunga !"
("I'll smack your back with my elbow !)

"Koni mere paas bhi hai, Imlie."
("Even I have elbows, Imlie.)

"But you don't have the guts to hit me."

Aryan raised His eye-brow in a smug stance.

"Right you are. Sooooo ....."

Imlie felt the bed creak from His weight. And in the next moment, She was pulled towards Him by her upper arms. Feeling an invisible palpable heavy tension between them, She gazed up at Him through the sky blue sheen of His Shawl on Her face, as She felt another chiffon material - Her Shawl - slide over and form a knot on Her left palm, now tightly clasped in His.

Imlie felt steam coming out of Her ears.

"Kaa karat ho ! Yeh Gatbandhan khol do abhi ke abhi ! 😠"
("What are you doing ! Untie this nupital knot now ! I said now !")

"Shaant, Imlie. Yeh koi Gatbandhan nahi hai. Aur main tumhe pinjre mein kayad karke nahin rakha. I have only tied our left palms together, you can easily open the knot with your right hand and leave."
("Relax, Imlie. This is No Nupital Knot. And I have not locked you up in a cage....)

Aryan slowly lifted His Shawl from her face, and then her head, and threw it away, as She met His tender gaze with Her dagger glare.

"What is it Jungli, why aren't you untying the knot ?"

He held up their knotted hands, as Her face twisted into rage-crying.

"I am not untying this. You will. Akkadbaghe, you tied us up and landed us in this mess. So, you will clear this up. Not me."

"I have no problem in getting tied up with you, Imlie."

"KAAHE ??"
("WHY ??")

Imlie pulled at their joined palms, dissolving to a fit of frustrated tears at His stubbornness, and hit Him criss-cross with both palms, as He took the hits calmly.