Not A Simple Engineer Boy! | ✓

093 • confessions | one

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Scrollstck- Suganthi Lakshminarayanan

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Xavier felt lighter than air, as if someone had sliced open his chest and vacuumed out the grief that had squatted there for years. After spilling the last sordid scrap of his trauma to the love of his life, he had finally slept—really slept. No clenched fists, no violent jerks awake, no nightmares yanking him into cold sweats. Instead, he dreamt of his mother, the way she'd been before life had sunk its claws into her—playing with him, singing her poems in that syrupy voice he'd almost forgotten.

Something warm was cradling him, pulling him deeper into its embrace like a lazy tide. His eyes cracked open, heavy with sleep, and there she was. Krithika. His sunbeam. She was curled into him, her body fitting his like they'd been cut from the same divine cloth. The faint morning light spilled through the window, wrapping her face in a glow that made her look almost too good for this fucked-up planet. An angel, if angels ever wore last night's smudged kajal.

His heart stuttered when she instinctively wriggled closer, nuzzling into him like he was her personal furnace. Her soft breath kissed his neck, feather-light and maddening. He swallowed thickly. What cosmic lottery had he hit to deserve this woman? Why hadn't she barged into his disaster of a life sooner? Did he even have the right to call this kindness, this miracle, his own?

He tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear and spotted the faded black streaks on her cheeks. Kajal, smeared from tears. Her tears. The proof of how much she'd cried while he'd cracked himself open the night before, spilling every gory detail of a childhood better suited for a horror flick.

He couldn't have held it in any longer, not after that goddamned letter yesterday—the one from his stepmother, dripping with fake concern, informing him that his father, the devil in flesh, was rotting on his deathbed and wanted a visit. He'd torn the letter into shreds so tiny they could've been confetti. That monster didn't deserve a deathbed, let alone absolution and Xavier would never allow him to rinse off his sins with some hollow forgiveness.

He'd tried. God, how he'd tried to stay calm, to choke down the rage. But it had exploded when Krithika teased him that evening, and he'd unleashed hell on her. He could still see the terror in her eyes, her hands trembling as she tried to understand what had set him off. That image cut deeper than any wound his father had left. Hurting her wasn't just a mistake—it was sacrilege. She was the one piece of good in his entire fucked-up puzzle. And yet, she hadn't left.

She stayed, even when you didn't deserve it.

"Krithika?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry."

Her eyes fluttered open, slow and languid like a cat stretching in the sun. Finally, those deep, liquid-dark eyes locked onto his. "For?"

"For scaring you. For making you cry."

She didn't reply. Instead, she tugged him down into a kiss, slow and unhurried. Her lips were warm and soft, a little chapped, and he couldn't get enough. Her body was plush against his, all curves and softness that made his heart feel too big for his chest. He wanted to float in her beauty, to fucking skydive into it.

When the kiss broke, he pinned her to the floor, hovering over her with his elbows braced beside her head. She stared up at him, flushed and utterly breathtaking. If the universe wanted to strike him dead right then, he'd go willingly—for he'd finally seen an ethereal soul in front of him.

"Xav..." she breathed, her voice a little shaky.

"Yes?"

"I want to go somewhere with you," she whispered, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "For my birthday. Just us. No people, no distractions. Just you and me."

He gazed at her, his heart swelling until it threatened to burst.

Her eyes darkened—stormy, magnetic, pulling him in. Her breath hitched, her lips parting slightly, and he could feel the air between them change. Heat rolled off her in waves, and his blood roared in response. She glanced at his mouth, then lower.

"Would you do that for me?" she asked, her voice soft and teasing.

"Anything you want, my darling," he murmured. "Your wish is my command."

"Anything?" she challenged, her lips curving into a sly smile.

"Anything," he repeated.

She bit her lip, and his brain short-circuited for a second. "Then do me one more favor..."

"Name it."

"For my sanity's sake, please put on a damn shirt," she said, deadpan. "If I have to keep staring at your stupidly perfect chest, I'm going to combust. Right here. On this floor."

He stared at her, stunned for a moment, before throwing his head back and laughing. It was loud and deep and real, the kind of laugh that felt like exorcising a demon.

"Is that so?" he asked, grinning as he leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"Absolutely," she replied, not missing a beat.

He laughed again, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years

God, she's incredible.

Something about her straightforwardness, her open-book nature, made him fall in love with her all over again.

A/N

I have to admit that I am a sucker for this full series of T-series Mixtape, and this particular song is one of my favorites.

Now, if any one of my friends ever read the above comment, they would have a poker face with a sentence on their mind- "But... But, Suganthi, you have thousands and thousands of favorites."

I am just a fan, okay, don't mind my love for Indian movie songs- any language any emotion.

Do tell me what you feel about this and the upcoming chapters, always open to positive criticism.