The Beast And The Prodigy

The Prodigy

My nightmares keep my awake the entire night. I have never slept after waking up from one. I am scared to close my eyes after witnessing his face. My mind enters into a spiral of thoughts which have no end.

But unlike always, today my mind has found something more distracting and extraordinary.

My eyes stay focussed on the hulk of a man, standing in the 12*12 ft room. The small laddle in his strong huge hands looked like a mere toy. But the way he slides it across the Wok, testifies that he wasn't unknown to the skill of cooking.

Veer can cook.

The very realisation made something churn in my stomach. I always wanted a man who wakes me up with a morning kiss and a delicious breakfast.

But I am not living in a dreamland.

I knew men.

And I thought I knew Veer.

But I guess not.

" Do you want a hand?"

I quirk. Feeling really uneasy with him cooking for he groans under his breath to scoff.

" Not if it's your hand, Peaches."

Blunt.

Embarrassment.

Right on face.

My eyes drop and I find my hands wringing together in nervousness. Damn he has done this the n Th time. I have seriously lost count of the number of times he embaresses me everyday.

Does he enjoy doing this or is it natural for him?

" Veer I-"

" Eat"

Was all he says settling down a plate of sizzling biryani and curd in front of me. And I blink, looking between the dish and his eyes.

Damn. It looked delicious.

Can I dig in? But where is his plate? Isn't he eating? Should I ask him?

" Are you -"

He gets up to walk away and I felt the pang of ignorance once again. Pouring the remaining contents in his own plate, he settles on his mattress to eat.

I bite the inside of my mouth to gulp.

Okay. Let's eat then.

.
.
.

There are many things in life which are not healthy for you. They should be considered illegal. And this biryani should be one of them.

My plate stands cleaned to morsels yet my taste buds crave for more. To be honest it was the best thing I have ever had in my life.

It was so finger-licking good that  I wanted to kiss those heavenly hands that have made them. And I would have if those cold brown eyes weren't set on me.

I will be giving him an excuse to kill me.

He hasn't touched his plate, resting his head back on the wall, all he was doing for the last 7 minutes was staring deeply at me.

I should be bothered. Trying to excavate those one or two dining etiquettes taught to me when I was a kid.But I was too engrossed in filling my empty stomach that hasn't eaten a proper home cooked meal in the last 15 days that I have been here.

For the first time with him, his stare didn't bother me.

" You haven't touched your food."

I look at his plate to meet his eyes and he hmms to declare nonchalantly.