Night of 25TH

CHAP 53: Kiss Interrupted

Past:

Shubman

Arm in arm, we strolled through the art gallery, immersed in the captivating world of creativity. Ishan had chosen to skip the gallery, wanting to seek some sleep, and was slated to rejoin us for dinner later. The sun hung high in the sky, casting its warm rays upon the array of artworks that adorned the walls.

This morning, in an effort to make the day special, I arranged for a unique breakfast experience for her. I approached the hotel staff and requested a setup in the open air, facing the sea—the very way she cherished.

Continuing our walk, we shared thoughts on the art that caught our attention. Each piece seemed to tell a unique story, and I found myself describing the intricate details, the play of colours, and the cultural significance embedded in the artwork.

As we explored the gallery, I couldn't help but express my admiration for the artistic heritage of Sri Lanka. Describing the rich tapestry of colours and the diverse cultural influences reflected in the art, I highlighted the unique spirit that emanated from each piece.

After explaining the artworks in the gallery, I turned to her, expecting her to be immersed in the art like I was. To my surprise, she wasn't looking at the paintings but at me, with a smile. I couldn't help but ask, "What are you looking at? Have you been listening?" Frustration seeped into my voice as it felt like she wasn't paying attention.

I have a deep love for painting in my free time, a passion that not many people know about. I enjoy exploring the art of different countries and cultures and finding inspiration in the diversity of artistic expressions. Her apparent lack of interest made me frown, feeling as if my passion wasn't being respected.

"Anika is really lucky, I must say," she remarked, holding my hand tightly as she rested her chin on my biceps.

"Why do you say that?" I questioned, looking down at her, my irritation and frustration evident at the mention of that woman's name.

"The way your eyes twinkle when you talk about various arts, and those dimples that go deeper, just like your perception. The way you hold my hand tight when I'm listening to your interests, I must say, your parents are no less than Van Gogh," she added, gazing at me with those eyes that held a captivating warmth, the kind that could make me want to marry her right away, much like the way my mom looks at my dad when he's bringing her favourite food.

I blushed, looking away, and gently pulled her forward to focus on the other artworks.

"Ayee, sada munda blush kar raha hai," she teased, poking my abs.

"Aren't you praising me a bit too much for a best friend?" I asked, trying to hide my smile and the deep blush on my face.

"Oyyee best friend, jitna koi aur tareef aur gaali de bhi nahi sakta, not even your girlfriend. Shukar manao, rab da aisa tareef karne wala dost mila hai," she declared, flipping her hair with confidence.

"Whatever you say, let's go; I'm hungry," I said, pulling her along as she continued to tease me. "Enough," I added laughing, gently guiding her into the waiting taxi.

As we enjoyed our lunch, her words were like a beautiful melody, blending with the gentle ocean breeze that played with her hair. Despite the occasion being her birthday, she wasn't dressed in the usual extravagant way. She had this effortless style, a simple charm that reflected her low-maintenance nature, except when a party called for a bit more flair.

Surrounded by girls always impeccably dressed and seemingly wealthy, she stood out to me. It wasn't the opulence or the perfect outfits that drew me in; it was the unassuming beauty of this girl right in front of me.

She wore thick glasses that framed brown eyes with a certain depth, accentuated by subtle black circles around them. Her gaze seemed to convey a wisdom that went beyond appearances, and that's what I found captivating.

But it wasn't just about her looks. It was everything about her—the way she carried herself, her comfort in her own skin. Every aspect of her, even the imperfections, painted a picture of someone whose beauty came from within.

Today, despite my independent best friend insisting it was her birthday and that it should be her treat, I made a conscious decision not to let her pay at all. I wanted my little shortie to feel pampered, just as I've always envisioned treating my girlfriend. Even though she isn't my girlfriend, I still wanted to shower her with kindness and make her feel special.

"I feel like an anaconda after eating; I want to sleep on this bench right here," she said, lying on the nearby bench.

"Drama queen, get up; we've got a lot to explore," I chuckled, picking her up effortlessly with one hand and pulling her into my arms. She rested her head on my chest, her hands around my waist, pretending to sleep.

"Mmm, feeling so lazy," she murmured, pushing me away a bit and walking backwards, leaning against a nearby pole.

"How about we just stand here, sit, and look at this ocean?" she suggested lazily, sitting down in the middle of the empty road.

I was about to join her, wanting nothing more than to sit next to her with my arms around her waist, lazily gazing at the ocean. As I started to walk towards her, my eyes caught a glimpse of a car speeding down the empty road.

"Chucky!" I shouted, running towards her and picking her up just in time. The car zoomed past us, narrowly avoiding a collision. Visibly shaken, she trembled in my arms, holding onto my shirt and taking shallow breaths. I held her face, looking down at her tear-streaked expression as she sobbed.

"Shh, it's nothing. Calm down," I reassured her, rubbing her back soothingly.

She continued to sob, burying her face in my chest, trembling in my arms. My phone rang, and I picked it up without checking the caller ID.

"Darling, I told you to be just friends with her, nothing more than that," Anika's voice, laced with malice, echoed through the other side. I remained silent, fully aware that any other response might lead to more harm to Chucky.

"For now, comfort the poor girl; she needs it. But remember, my eyes are always on you in public, so no more dumb plays," she warned in her dark, ominous voice, sending shivers down my spine.

"Love you, bye," she concluded in a sickly sweet tone before hanging up. I stared at the phone for a moment, a knot forming in my stomach. The situation had just taken a sinister turn, and I knew I had to navigate carefully to protect both Chucky and myself from Anika's malevolent intentions.

Hailing a cab, I decided it was time to head back to the hotel. Glancing at Chucky, who was still quietly crying, I could see the exhaustion etched on her face. She sought comfort in sleeping on my shoulders during the ride, visibly tired, while I battled my own weariness from Anika's unsettling actions.

The car came to an abrupt stop, jerking us awake. I opened my eyes to find Chucky looking up at me, her lips dangerously close to mine. I could feel her warm breath on my lips. Before I could lean in, the cab driver hesitantly muttered about our proximity.

"Sir," he said, making Chucky move away. She opened the car door and stood outside, waiting for me. I closed my eyes briefly to compose myself before pulling out some notes and handing them to the driver.

I stepped out of the car and found Chucky in tears. Gently wiping her tears with my sleeves, I reassured her, "It's okay, take some rest." She nodded, her lips forming a pout, crying like a frightened child.

Before she could depart, I gently grasped her wrist. "It's your birthday, and we shouldn't let a single incident spoil the entire day. Come to my room; Ishan and I have a surprise for you." Despite the tears, I could discern a smile on her face as she hugged me as if the intimate moment we shared just moments ago hadn't happened. Ah, this lady is peculiar, I thought to myself, returning the embrace and planting a kiss on the top of her head. My mind was already occupied with plans for the night, where we could escape Anika's watchful eyes.