[FEATURED IN WATTPAD INDIA PROFILE]
❝Pioneering the art of constructing love, my Kanmani.❞
Xavier teased her skin, slowly caressing her cheeks and her lips trembled.
❝You don't dare!❞
And he kissed her.
------
When he had compromised his dreams and...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Do you like it?" he asked her, smiling at her intriguing eyes that kept dancing around, looking at every nook and cranny of the cafe.
"I had heard about the Chamiers Cafe but thought it was just for celebrities," she shyly replied, fiddling her fingers over the table.
He chortled. "Who keeps feeding you such information?" He pulled her fingers to calm her. "We are not celebrities, but we are here." She rolled her eyes. "So, answer the question."
"It feels cozy," she shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. "I haven't been to fancy places, and this looks too fancy for my liking."
"Okay, next time we'll go wherever you're comfortable," his thumb traced her fingers and left them on the table.
Leaning back comfortably in his cushioned seat, he continued, "This was the cafe where Satya and I decided to team up. The seat there..." he nodded toward a table opposite them, "...was the one where she had her Darjeeling tea and said, 'Xav, let's do this.'" He mimicked Satya's voice in a funny tone. "'And I had agreed, as I had nothing to lose.'"
It was etched in his memory. He remembered every second of that day. Sighing, he continued, "I wanted to show you something that mattered to me."
He looked at her. She was silently smiling, listening to him like an ardent disciple. Every time she smiled, her face glowed in an ethereal way that made him feel comfortable. She had such a soothing aura that he had never noticed before.
"Thanks for sharing," she replied. "...And bringing me here, it means a lot."
They chatted for a few minutes before deciding on their dinner. Xavier settled on a plate of seafood Paella, whereas Krithika chose a simple sandwich.
"You don't want to try anything else?" he asked her.
"I don't understand half of the menu. Sandwiches are the safest; no one can mess those up," she replied in embarrassment.
He felt annoyed at himself. "I am so sorry, I didn't kn--"
"We don't know each other, Xavier," she shut him up. "It's perfectly fine. We can slowly learn."
Oh...
Did he want to hug her? Yes. He learned that she was nine—almost ten—years younger than him. Nine fucking years. And she was patiently sitting across from him, listening to him, trying to understand him.
She was ready to give him a chance to trust him. His heart felt heavy. He never wanted to feel so many things so soon, yet it was unwinding, and he couldn't stop himself.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"So, what's your favorite color?" Krithika asked, her voice light as they strolled back to her P.G.
After dinner, she'd asked him to park his fancy vehicle far from her place.
He'd raised an eyebrow at the request, but she'd coolly explained that she didn't want to be the center of attention in her society, and a flashy EV would definitely raise some eyebrows. He didn't agree with her logic, but he did comply.
So, parking his car three streets away, he decided to walk with her instead. She hadn't dismissed him but agreed to it without hesitation. And here they were, wandering side by side down the quiet, dimly lit streets of Parangimalai.
"I guess red and orange," he replied nonchalantly, picking the leaves from a tiny branch he had broken off a roadside tree. It had been a long time since he'd walked anywhere, especially on the streets, and he felt anxious. "What's yours?"
"Burnt Umber," she answered with a confidence that made his brows lift.
That's... a very specific color. He kept the thought to himself.
She grinned, not missing a beat. "It's a gorgeous, rich brown with just the right amount of red and yellow. It's like the perfect balance. It's a classic painting color, especially for shadows." She paused, then added, "You know, it was a favorite between the 17th and 19th centuries, until the Impressionists came along and thought it was, well, boring."
She kept going, her voice a stream of quirky facts and details, as if she was sharing a secret treasure trove of knowledge with him. Her eyes sparkled with a passion that made him forget how awkward he had felt just moments ago.
She was something else—like a walking, talking encyclopedia with a dash of wit.
Her enthusiasm was magnetic. It wasn't just the facts that caught him off guard; it was the way she lit up when she talked about things she cared about.
And him? He was just trying to keep up, mesmerized by how effortlessly she made everything sound so... fascinating.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Do tell me what you feel about this and the upcoming chapters, always open to positive criticism.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
