Confected Castles : Of Cards and Dreams

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷

She had felt umpteenth gazes on her as she passed through the same room again, but this time, entering the other part where he took her. She passed Mr. Bandhopadhay's desk and walked timidly behind Rishit as he pushed the door of the other room. She leaned towards the side in an attempt to peep inside as the huge man in front of her was blocking her vision.

"Dhor (Animal)" She murmured under her breath.

As they took a step inside, her breath hitched. The room was airy and full of sunlight, with rows of desks arranged for employees. There were fifteen desks, she counted waving her finger in the air. The room was spacious enough and silent as half of the crew were out for lunch. Just the countable ones were present, engrossed in their own works of paper scratching or typing something. However, it didn't smell like a smoke, which gave her some comfort. The last thing she wanted was to strangle with the cough in front of him. She didn't realized when her jerk slid to her left, observing her admiring the room. She was bought back to her sense when he cleared his throat. She stared at him and back at the room, in an attempt to distract herself. It didn't take her much time to spot his desk, as his typewriter was very much familiar to her. Without paying any heed to him, she rushed towards his desk, her face dripping glee. She felt him heaving a sigh, but she was too busy to rush on her way.

"See I spotted your desk before you!" She squeaked like a 5 year old child. She turned around to see him crossing his arms across her chest and rolling his eyes as she squeaked.

"Good to know! But you are not getting any prize for this. Sorry Ms. Pesky!"

Why do you even talk to him? She found her cursing herself. Ignoring his blatant comment, she stared at the typewriter. Her heart elated with joy. She found him rummaging through his bag and the mischievous smile formed on her face. Thinking he was busy with whatever he was doing, her fingers traced his initials, R.B, before finally thumping on the keys.

The R in his name stands for Ruthless.
The R in his name stands for Rude
The R in his name stands for Reckless
The R in his name stands for

"Stop wasting my papers for your nonsense shits."
His sudden cold voice startled her on her place. A small frown made its way on her face as she wanted to play more with his typewriter. She found him heading towards the corner of the room, opening the iron almirah that was placed for the staff use. She turned her attention back to his desk, which she was observing so keenly for the first time. It was surprisingly clean. The neatly piled books and dictionaries, the well-arranged pen stand and the name...name plate. She held the cold object in her hand, turning the engravings to face her so she can read it.

Rishit Bhowmick
Asst. Columnist

The words escaped from her mouth like the silent whisper, as if she was tasting the honey on her tongues. She loved the music of his name. Rishit. Her fingers grazed on the engravings before she finally placed it back. She eyed him as he was still busy rummaging through the folders in the almirah. The mischief glinted in her eyes as she removed all the bookmarks from the books and dictionaries and inserting it at any random page she felt. The different ink pens amazed her as she picked one from the stand and scribbled something in his pocket diary. As she continued writing, the ink drained, resisting to spill into words. She cursed the pen and harshly jerked it in air in an attempt to make it work again. Once, twice, thrice. When she felt she had jerked it for enough of time, she resumed to her scribbling activity again and took a sudden halt as she realized someone just took a heavy sigh. She turned to her right, afraid of the Dhor  who won't think twice before killing her. She gulped a lump of saliva, her mind sandwiched between the fear and the urge to resist her laugh, as the stains of blue ink shone brightly on his white shirt and few even appeared on his handsome face. She covered her mouth with her palm involuntarily, pushing down the lazy laugh and fear back into the pit of her stomach. He nodded his head as a frustrating sigh left his soul.