Thrones of Thakurs

❉ VI ❉

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»»-----　Nikarika　-----««

I clung to his shoulder, dear to my life. His hands were on my bare back, and I could feel the coldness of his fingers against my skin.

I might be regretting wearing this blouse now.His spicy, earthy cologne mixed with the scent of aftershave-it was new for me.

I dared to glance at his face. There wasn't even a hint of struggle, as if I weighed nothing. And I must add, I'm not exactly slim.

His eyes were focused ahead as he took long strides.Looking around, I realized we were in some private area with seating arrangements. I had never been here before.

He gently set me down, and in the process, his hand brushed my shoulder, sending a shiver through me.

He sat down in front of me, taking my foot in his lap as if it were made of glass. I gulped, my senses suddenly on high alert.

I'd never been in a situation like this before.

"Tell me something about yourself," he whispered, his fingers lightly tracing around my ankle.I stared at him, confused.

Why was he asking? Why did he want to know about me? His eyes were intense, boring into mine, making me look away.

My cheeks flushed a little-such an unexpected question.We all know that's the question you get asked at the start of an interview, the one you've memorized. Should I tell him that?

His fingers brushed over my foot, tickling me slightly. I glanced at him, but his full focus was on my feet.Suddenly, his eyes met mine again.

His hands continued massaging my feet, and I could feel the warmth of his touch spreading through me. It was a different sensation.

He raised his eyebrows, and I shyly looked away, biting my lip, trying to think. But it was hard to concentrate with him so close.

"M-My name... is Niharika," I said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. I couldn't remember a single detail about myself. The way his hands massaged my feet made it impossible to think straight.

"Hmm," he muttered.

"I'm studying architecture-" I started, but before I could finish, he suddenly removed my payal from my leg. My eyes widened in shock, but his attention remained solely on my feet.

"Why did you choose to study architecture?" he asked, his voice slow and deliberate-or maybe I was just hearing it that way.

Why? Why did I want to be an architect? The answer seemed so hard to find, so I said the first thing that came to mind.

"My mom wanted me to be an engineer, but I didn't qualified JEE. I suck at studying, but somehow, I scored 92 percentile in NATA-" Before I could finish, he twisted my leg in the opposite direction.

"Aaaaaah!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. The pain felt like a car had run over my leg. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the tears.

"What the fuck did you do?!" I snapped at him, but he was already standing, casually dusting invisible dirt from his clothes.

He looked sharply at me, his eyes piercing. "Language," he said, his voice deep and unsettling.

I looked away. What was with this man? "Why did you do that? What if it gets worse?" I asked, worried. What if I couldn't walk again? How would I go to college?