To Not Love Mr. Perfectly Fine

19

ARYAN

I put my EarPods back in its case, dying to get under the shower. It was a Sunday morning in almost mid-November, but taking a jog even in this weather exhausted me faster than I could've thought. Morning jogs weren't my thing. But since Vidit was in Dakota for some important business, I didn't have the choice of boxing my stress out.

These past few weeks have been hell and beyond with meeting the investors again and again, briefing the Delhi crew, incessant calls, and to top it all calls from that unknown number. My team informed me that the number belonged to some Amit Bakshi, who I had no idea about. It was the first time I had heard that name. I had asked them to find out everything about this person but so far all I got was that this person was supposedly based around the northern side of the country.

I peeped into the kitchen and found it still, which meant Ira hadn't woken up yet, or else she would be here with her headphones on, making her coffee. Over the course of time, we have fallen into a comfortable pattern. She didn't shy away from getting caught dancing on Taylor Swift songs, who she worshiped by the way. I wasn't calling her name the first thing every night, when I returned home. We were progressing. In good speed. Only I was yet to find a way to sustain this.

I quickly went to the shower, washed out the exhaustion, and changed into a pair of joggers and a T-shirt. I was towel drying my hair when I opened my door to go to the kitchen, but I walked straight into Ira, causing her to trip. My hand clasped around her waist as a reflex to steady her.

"Careful," I said as her big, round eyes met mine. She smelled like peaches. A maddening sweetness that I was dying to taste. She felt so fucking good in my arms, that I never wanted to let go of her.

"Watch where you going." She finally spoke breaking the chain of my distorted thoughts, as she released herself from me. The muscles of my hand twitched at the loss of contact.

"Sorry. Slept well?" I asked, smirking at her as she rubbed her eyes. "Yes and no." She yawned. "I finished the book that I was reading. So, I slept late, which is why I woke up late. And now my neck is paining."

"Freshen up then. I'll make us something." I offered. But instead of a smiling thank-you, I received a scowl. "No. It's my turn today." Another thing that she had implemented was dividing the chores. Even though I tried my best to keep her from doing that, because all the appliances this apartment had, were enough for that. But she didn't budge.

When she realized there wasn't much to be done around, she picked up kitchen duties. Cooking had never been a hassle for me. I enjoyed it in fact. Nonetheless, no matter what I said, I knew she wouldn't listen. So, I didn't push her about this either.

"You always have to argue, don't you?" I asked, shaking my head.

"And you always have to..." she squinted her eyes looking here and there. "... have to be nice, don't you?"

"Now that is a skill I have honed over the years." I drawled, leaning on my doorframe.

"Yeah, yeah. Gimme two minutes." She said and turned to leave, but suddenly an idea came to me like a light bulb.

"Um... how do you feel about a day out?" It was a spontaneous idea but it had a huge scope of bringing her closer to me. It was a nice breezy day. Not too cold, not too hot. Perfect for spending it outdoors.

It didn't take me long, yet long enough, to realize why she was the person my eyes found in any situation. Why she caught my attention at the club that night. Why watching her in pain felt like a work of knife in my heart. Why seeing, or even thinking of her with another man blazed my mind with a red film of the need to kill them. I'd grown to love her presence around me more than I could ever express. And I wanted her to know that as well. To make her rethink about finding a new place.