DEV(i)

13. Memories (2)~

He remembered it clearly. Her parents had left for some distant relative's get-together, trusting him, of all people, to keep an eye on her while they were gone. He had always been the responsible one, the "good influence" in their eyes. They had no idea what the night had in store.

Srinika had just gone through her first breakup with Aakash. The first of many heartbreaks he would cause her. She had called Dev over, insisting she needed company. But when he arrived, he was greeted by something entirely unexpected—a small bottle of cheap rum on the kitchen counter and a defiant, tear-streaked Srinika, announcing that she was going to drink away her heartache.

"You don't even like alcohol," Dev had said, raising an eyebrow as he watched her pour a generous amount into a glass.

"Well, tonight's a special occasion," she had replied, her voice wobbling with a mix of tears and bravado. "Tonight, I officially say fuck you, Aakash."

Dev hadn't known what to do at first. He had never seen her like that before—so raw, so hurt. Part of him wanted to tell her to stop, to take the glass away from her and tell her everything would be fine. But another part of him, the part that had always stood back and let her make her own choices, hesitated. He didn't want to be the overbearing one, the one to dictate what was right or wrong for her. So he just watched as she downed her first glass, grimacing at the taste.

"It's horrible," she had muttered, but then poured herself another anyway.

As the night wore on, the alcohol worked its way through her system, loosening her tongue and her inhibitions. The once-sharp, focused Srinika had transformed into a giggling, incoherent version of herself, stumbling through the house, alternating between fits of laughter and bouts of tearful rambling.

Dev had tried his best to keep her grounded, to stop her from doing anything reckless. He had even managed to make her eat something to absorb the alcohol, but she had been relentless in her pursuit of drowning her sorrows. And then, at some point, things took a turn he hadn't been prepared for.

They had been sitting on the couch in her living room, the faint glow of the dim kitchen lights casting shadows around them. She had been ranting about Aakash—about how he had toyed with her, how he had made her feel like she wasn't enough, and how unfair everything seemed. And then, out of nowhere, she had gone quiet.

She looked at him, her eyes glassy from the alcohol but with a strange intensity. "You know, Dev," she had said, her voice slurred but serious. "What if... what if we dated? Like, you and me. Wouldn't that be funny?"

Dev had frozen. It was a joke, he knew that. She was drunk, her mind clouded by heartbreak and rum. But the way she said it, with that slight tilt of her head and the curious gleam in her eye, made something stir inside him.

He had chuckled awkwardly, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, real funny, Sri."

But she didn't let it go. Instead, she crawled closer to him on the couch, her movements clumsy and uncoordinated, until she was right in his space. "No, but like, think about it," she had continued, her breath warm against his neck. "You're... you're always there for me. You're nice. You don't hurt me like... like he did."

And then, before he could even react, she had climbed into his lap, her legs draped across him as she buried her face in his shoulder. "I bet... I bet if you loved me, you wouldn't break my heart. Not like him."

Dev's heart had raced in that moment, every part of him aware of her closeness, her touch. But all he could do was sit there, frozen, as she whimpered softly into his shirt.

She wasn't finished, though. She pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes wide and searching, and then, without warning, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his cheek. It was a small, drunken peck—nothing more—but it had sent his mind spiraling.

He had stared at her, wide-eyed, his heart pounding in his chest, as she giggled softly to herself. "See? You wouldn't even kiss me back," she had teased, her voice playful but her eyes still sad.

It had taken every ounce of self-control for Dev to remain calm in that moment. She was twenty-one, barely out of college, heartbroken, and incredibly drunk. He couldn't—wouldn't—take advantage of that. Instead, he had wrapped his arms around her gently, pulling her into a tight hug. He held her close, feeling the weight of her head resting on his shoulder as she slowly started to drift off.

He had stayed like that for what felt like hours, just holding her until she finally fell asleep in his arms. Then, carefully, he had laid her down on the couch, making sure she was comfortable before tidying up the evidence of her drunken adventure. He hid the empty bottle, cleaned up the glasses, and even sprayed a bit of air freshener to mask the faint smell of alcohol. By the time her parents returned the next morning, the house was spotless, and Srinika was fast asleep in her bed, none the wiser.

Now, sitting in his quiet house years later, Dev found himself laughing softly at the memory. Not because it was funny, but because it was so utterly Srinika. Always pushing the boundaries, always testing the limits—never quite aware of how much she affected him.

The weight of his memories pressing heavily against his chest. It was painful how the promises he'd made to her—promises that were supposed to be simple, lighthearted reassurances—had twisted into something darker, something more real than he'd ever anticipated. He had never thought those words would haunt him the way they did now, as if fate was mocking him.

~.~

To be continued...