In His Custody ✎ | (MaNan)

✰ 49 - stay a little longer

Drummmmmrollllllllll!

⭒

Nandini

Dripping wet from head to toe from their evil plans – specifically his – to drench me, I squeezed my hands together, bringing some warmth to them. I went up the stairs and into Mukti's room.

Met by his rigid frame that leaned on the woodwork in her room, a glass beside his thigh as his back met me, I stopped in my steps.

"Go from here, Nandini," he ordered without turning back, his tone a little distinct.

How did he even know it was me? That was besides the point.

"As far as I know, this toh is Mukti's room. Don't you have your own?"

He turned around, his frustration evident on his countenance that violently twitched. "This is my house!" he retorted, flaring his nostrils against his will.

"And this room belongs to my friend! She permitted me to—"

"Belonged, past tense." He took a lazy sip of the drink in his hand, which I registered was a golden liquid, as he stumbled in my direction.

Since the time I had arrived, he had downed two green bottles before my eyes. There were two more of those on the pool island bar, and counting this glass, he at least had five drinks. "Waise bhi," he lifted the glass to emphasise his point, "who the hell is she to allow anything?"

I joined my eyebrows together. "Why? Only you have the authority to control everything?" He was moving towards me in an attempt to intimidate me, test me. So I bravely stepped closer, defying him. "I am not going anywhere," I uttered while caging myself in my arms, preserving some warmth for my writhing body as water beads chilled down on me.

With a sudden burst of palatable irritation, Manik slammed his empty fist into the ajar wardrobe door, snapping in shut in one swift move. The sound reverberated through the room, forcing me to palm my ears shut. "Why," From the depths of someplace deep, his masculine voice floated, "why why?! Why can't you just let me be?!" His voice cracked, and agitated, the drink was emptied in one go.

I jumped back at the raw sight of his unfiltered emotions out of which anger was the most distinct. Of course it was, he was Manik Malhotra. Anger was his middle name, no no, part of his middle name – danger.

Let me be?! Had he forgotten all the things he had done to me, not just in the past few hours but since the beginning of time? If I began to keep count and tallied them, those instances would run into the hundreds, if not thousands.

"I can't believe this." I scoffed, "You still think this is all about you." How incredibly self-obsessed did someone have to be to reach such a level of delusion?

"What was it that you said to me earlier tonight? Haan..." He mocked, semi-laughing to himself as he began to encircle me, "...that you don't want a relationship, that being around me would be the hardest thing you've ever done. Right?" Drilling those words with a particular effect, which he got, he distastefully stared at me while maintaining momentum.

Concious of being watched, I shifted my focus from the one side he was approaching to the other. With every passing moment, a puddle was growing by my feet.

"If you really didn't want to be here, why the hell are you still in my house?"

I gulped, formulating that I was there because Mukti needed me. She couldn't muster the courage to face Manik, let alone him in front of their whole group – which triggered ugly flashbacks and painful nostalgia for her too. And no friend would leave her friend in the midst of so many internal battles to fend for herself.