Midnight Kitchen Services | ✓

6 | sweet pithas and honey

[unedited]

─── ★ 𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐀

Ayana had been having a terrible day. She had woken up terribly late and ended up 15 minutes late to her first class, for which she had received a thorough scolding. She had been receiving multiple messages about why she never made certain food and other nitpicking which had got on her nerves. 

Then, she ended up finding out that her favorite spot in the open cafeteria had been taken by an annoying couple who were feeding each other. Disgusting. She turned around, abruptly as the guy leaned forward to kiss the girl. 

Ugh.

Maybe it was the dry spell which had been cast on her since birth or all the frustrations of the day. She terribly wanted to angry-rant to someone. In her mind, a certain guy's face flashed before her and quickly hid away. The tip of her ears adopted a light pink shade. 

"Ayana?"

Talk of the devil. Or in this case, the angel. She turned around, with wide eyes. 

"Join us." Raghav mouthed to her, waving to her. 

She raised a hand, with a smile that she hoped was bright, "It's alright. I'm fine." 

She wasn't fine. All the tables were full. 

Quietly, she headed over to Raghav's table. He usually sat with a couple of guys and their girlfriends; she presumed that was his close friend gang. Today, however, none of them were present. She glanced at the only other occupant of the table - Dhruv. He was a guy who always had his head down with a cap hanging low. He never talked much unless he was in direct conversation with someone; mostly Raghav.

"That's my friend, Dhruv."

Ayana nodded at him. He nodded back. A friendly camaderie settled around them.

"How's your day going?"

"Terrible." Ayana blurted. Raghav quirked up an eyebrow.

"I woke up late, ended up 15 minutes late to class." She stuffed a mouthful of rice, chewing it and swallowing it before continuing, "And then I've been dealing with a couple of messages."

"What messages?"

"Critical messages?" Her tone was doubtful. "I think they are hate messages of sorts but I can't be sure."

Raghav held out his palm, "Give me your phone."

"They're nothing much."

"Let me take a look." Ayana narrowed her eyes. He narrowed his eyes back. She relented and dropped her phone into his outstretched hand, after typing in the passcode. He went through the messages, scrolling rather quickly as he ate. She peeked glances at his expression from time to time. 

"Yo Dhruv," Raghav turned the phone towards him, "you know who this guy is?"

Dhruv stared keenly at the photograph. "Yeah, isn't this that loser in the fourth floor? The one that's constantly picking fights with Tomar and Gopal?"

"This is that guy," Raghav commented, "I thought he looked familiar."

He handed the phone back to her, "Don't worry. They won't text again. Don't take their words too seriously. All of us enjoy your food a lot."

There was a lot to unpack in those back-to-back statements. 

"How do you know they won't text again?"

"Male intuition."

Ayana's eyebrows furrowed. "Don't tell me you're going to pick a fight with them."