The Sinful Business

𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲

   𝐎ur eyes locked, and we both bursted out laughing like we've seen dogs in lingeries.

   We just saw a kid holding a girl's hand only to get kissed on his cheeks by her. Then the boy got embarrassed and ran away. It was fine until we saw the same thing happening with his parents.

   I don't know why, but we found it hilarious that how both father and son duo get easily flustered by just a kiss on cheeks.

   “You don't get flustered when I kiss your cheeks.” I asked Utkarsh, who was adjusting the gear of the BMW we're currently sitting on.

   “That's because all the blood rushes to somewhere else. Lower, to be more precise.” Flush ran in my cheeks at his innuendo and I hit is bicep.

   How can he be so shameless yet sophisticated at the same time?

   Suddenly, he kissed my cheek and immediately my flushed cheeks got more flushier, and that resulted into a full length grin on his face.

   “You look so adorable when you're flustered.” He glanced briefly at me then looked at the road again.

   In our false dating era, many things changed, including how Utkarsh always drives instead of me and opens the door for me after he gets out.

   Butterflies rose in my stomach as I remembered we're going on our first official date.

   I glanced at the gifts he provided, and smiled internally.

  More butterflies.

   The rest of the ride was silent, with our occasional eye locks and the soft hum of the car engine, along with the AC blowing in full passion.

   After a while, the car came to a halt and I realised we've reached our destination.

   Utkarsh, as usual, got out of the car and opened the door for me, holding my hand possessively that if his grip got loose, I'd run away somewhere.

   As soon as I sank the surroundings in, my jaw dropped to the ground and my eyes widened at the sight. It was seven in the evening, yet someone could see the stars glinting in my eyes.

   I have always dreamt of attending Ivelle's art exhibition since I realised the beauty of art (that is maybe when I was five), I just couldn't do it because of my parents. They think art is not us high classed people like us. We are only made to admire art, not to create them.

   “Say something.” Utkarsh spoke in an unusual soft tone, maybe because he saw how overwhelmed I was with all the dopamine.

   “Thank you.” I kissed his cheek and he wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “Be happy like this always. Now are we even planning to go inside or you want to stay here and keep kissing my cheeks? I don't have any issues though.” I chuckled at his playful remark and we headed inside.