𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐈 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

•Chapter Fourteen

-Jahaan-

I am beyond pissed and out of control. Usually, I like to deal with situations in a calm manner but when that prick used that word for Dhivti, I saw red. That woman is precious and he had the audacity to call her by that. That was the second bloody time someone called Dhivti that in front of me. What the fuck is wrong with people? I can only wonder what other disgusting words she hears for herself. She does not deserve any kind of disrespect.

Later, I came outside for some fresh air, to calm myself down and now sitting on this bench, I keep thinking about why I reacted that way for Dhivti. Yes, I love her but what I did inside there, it looked more like madness. That is not me and what is scarier is that I don't regret it at all. I would have punched that fucker to death if only I didn't see Dhivti's face while I was punching him.

I hear clearing of a throat from behind. It is Dhivti. I know.

A smile automatically adorns my face knowing she is here. All the chaos that was disrupting my mind seconds ago, immediately stops. The noise in my head goes quiet. If I never knew what peace was before, now I know. Dhivti Verma.

I hear footsteps and, in a few seconds, Dhivti comes and sits beside me on the bench.

"You think you are a hero in some cliché movie?" she says which makes me chuckle.

I look towards her, staring at her.

Just when I thought Dhivti Verma cannot get any prettier, she came in front of me wearing a goddamn saree and god help me, it should be illegal to look so beautiful. My breath hitched the moment I saw her in the white saree, looking like an absolute angel. She is a sight to forever behold.

"No, but I don't mind being your hero," I flirt and her eyes immediately dart towards me. I smirk. She narrows her eyes.

"You are not my hero," she says.

I gasp and put a hand on my chest, "You wound me, Dhivti," I say, playfully.

I see a hint of a smile on her face. No fucking way. Did Dhivti Verma just smile? Because of me? C'mon, give me a full-blown smile Dhivti, I am dying to see it.

"You are staring," she says.

Of course I am, have you seen yourself?

I clear my throat, "Why did you come here?" I ask.

She looks towards my hands. I frown and then follow her sight only to see that my knuckles are bruised. I might have probably burst open that asshole's jaw. I chuckle and then my eyes settle on the small first aid kit on her lap.

She came here to dress my bruises? Heck, she even noticed my knuckles. I had no damn idea I had bruises.

I look at her and her eyes are already on me. For the first time ever, Dhivti does not avert her eyes from me. If I knew I had to break someone's jaw for this woman's attention, I'd have done that long back.

She opens the kit and slowly, reaches for my hand but hesitates, probably thinking whether she should or not. She should, with all rights. She takes a hold of my hand just as if she heard my thoughts.

She dresses up my wound while I watch her. She does it so carefully as if making sure it does not pain and that brought a smile on my face. She cares. For me.

"Done," she says.

"Thank you."

"No. Thank you," I frown. Why is she thanking me?