Book 4 in the Proposal Series.
YUGANTIKA IYENGAR
"You cannot fight your doom. It will fucking destroy you, Pookie."
She laughed, wrecking it deep within her guts. A voice that could slice through all the weak hearts. "No one can bring doom on me."...
(God believed to inspire suspicion and mistrust in humans)
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Yugantika could feel Tushar's presence like a dense fog rolling over the room—oppressive and utterly inescapable. His dark, brooding aura seemed to seep into every corner, casting shadows that even the hospital's sterile lights couldn't dispel. His negativity wrapped around her like a thick, damp blanket she couldn't shake off, making her feel trapped.
No wonder the man never found joy in his life; he was a walking cloud of grey smoke, life-threatening to every living being.
She had tried everything to get rid of him—acting in pain, calling doctors who had no business being there, requesting her phone which he had to retrieve from across the room, not before a distant scowl, and even making pointless comments just to disturb him. She had even resorted to fake snoring, hoping to drive him away.
"You know, if you spent any more time in this room, they might start charging you rent," she had said, trying to mask her frustration as he remained perfectly at ease in his seat.
"Stop ridiculing yourself and sleep; you're not the only one stuck here," he had retorted sharply, glaring at her before making a call. Moments later, someone delivered his laptop, and he settled into work, leaving her to the wearying cycle of frustration and exhaustion.
Now, after hours of restless sleep, Yugantika felt like a hapless actor trapped in a drama of her own making. Tushar was engrossed in his work, tapping away on his phone and laptop with a focus that bordered on obsessive. Every so often, his eyes flicked up, scrutinizing her every movement with an intensity that made her skin crawl. It was as if he was keeping a meticulous record of her every breath and blink, his vigilance more unsettling than her actual predicament.
Just when she thought she couldn't endure any more of his unsettling scrutiny, the door to her room creaked open. Lalitha walked in, her expression a blend of apology and anxiety, as if she were stepping into a minefield.
See, it was all his presence.
Her eyes darted nervously between Yugantika and Tushar, clearly anticipating an explosion.
"Yug, you're up," Lalitha said, her forehead creased with more wrinkles than the hospital sheets. "I should have stayed here last night, but... Ki wouldn't stay without me. I was worried sick about you."
"Wish I wasn't." Yugantika murmured, noticing the strange, tense exchange of glances between Lalitha and Tushar—an unspoken communication that seemed almost...scheming. Lalitha had always shared her aversion to Tushar, so why was there this weird, uneasy acknowledgment between them? Were they plotting something against her, or was this just another bizarre twist in her already messed-up life?
"You would." As Lalitha moved closer, her eyes shifted back to Tushar with a flicker of wariness. Tushar remained absorbed in his phone, but Yugantika could sense his heightened alertness, his attention split between his screen and her guest.
