"Rudra Malhotra naam toh suna hoga ?"
Rudra is the epitome of charisma-outgoing, charming, and unabashedly playful. He has an infectious laugh and a quick wit that makes him the life of the party. His flirty nature often leads to playful banter and...
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Ruhanika who was lying on the bed unconscious started to stir up from her sleep. She felt a wave of pain with each of her physical movements.
"Ahh"
She groaned holding her hands and trying to stand up from bed but failed due to slight injury on her elbow. She was about to slip from the bed but a pair of arms circled around her.
She flinched looking beside to know the owner of the hands but got relaxed after seeing rudra.
"Tumne ping- pong balls khaye the kya bachpan main ?"
"Have you eaten ping pong balls during your childhood?" He questioned , adjusting the pillow behind her and tucking the blanket properly. She didn't hear his question as her gaze was stuck at his face which was glowing. She was staring at his mole right on his upper lips.
"Tumse puch raha hu, mohotarma?"
"Madam, I'm asking you something?" He questioned snapping his fingers in front of her eyes. She looked down in embarrassment for her sinful thoughts about him.
"Huh"
She involuntarily spoke in a husky voice as she was still in gaze of her thoughts.
"Arey ping pong balls jo uchalte rehte hai ek jagah se dusri jagah"
" Ping -pong balls that bounce from one place to another" He explained to her by hand gesture. He moved his hands up and down like ping pong balls.
"Nahi toh, kyu ?"
" No, why ?" She answered honestly.
"Toh phir, ek jagah tikti kyun nahi ho tum ? Jab dekho idhar se udhar twing twing karti rehti hai"
"Then why always move from one place to another like ping pong balls. Twing twing" He said casually looking at her suspiciously like she was lying. She rolled her eyes at his answer and shook her head.
"Ahh"
She winced when her elbow touched the headboard and he immediately sat beside her waist checking her injury.
"Fucking stupid bed, I will add more pillows next time"
He cursed checking her elbow like a child. He was careful blowing the air on her injured hand while she was lost in his innocence. He looked like a small child holding his mother's finger with such delicacy and warmth.
The quality that fascinated her about him was; his innocence. He always has his carefree innocence in his behaviour and eyes. The way his eyes reflect every time when he tries to irritate her, the innocence of getting on her nerves, the innocence of faking his anger, the innocence of his words. Maybe she found it irritating at first but eventually she started liking that carefree innocence kiddish rudra around her.
She was a solitary candle flickering in the dark, desperately yearning for distance, her light fragile and resolute against the shadows. He, the relentless wind, danced around her, teasing her flame into wild flickers and sparks, eroding her defences with every playful gust. Each time she felt the heat of his presence, she swore to extinguish him from her heart, yet in the chaos of their clash, she discovered a strange solace-his presence softened her edges, revealing that even in the storm, there was a security in being understood, a warmth in the tempest that melted the icy walls she had built.
