The Mafia heart ( book 1 )

chapter 8 Vikram's Desires

The home bar was dimly lit, filled with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft hum of music playing in the background. Vikram sat between his two friends, Arman and Kartike, on plush bar stools that were more comfortable than they looked. The atmosphere was thick with the smell of whiskey and cigarettes, a familiar scent that usually made Vikram feel at ease. Tonight, however, his heart was heavy with longing.

"Another round, Vikram?" Arman asked, his voice slightly slurred from the drinks he had already consumed. He waved at the bartender, who was busy polishing glasses behind the counter.

"Yes! More whiskey!" Vikram exclaimed, a bit too loudly. His gaze was fixed on the empty glass before him, and he could hardly think of anything but Mehek. "I want Mehek. I need her!"

Kartike leaned back, sipping his beer. He observed his friends with a mix of amusement and concern. "Vikram, you're going to drown in that glass if you keep this up."

"I don't care!" Vikram shouted, a wild look in his eyes. "I want her at any cost! You don't understand!"

Arman chuckled, shaking his head. "Dude, we get it. You're in love. But shouting her name isn't going to make her appear."

"Mehek!" Vikram mumbled, his voice dropping as he looked into his drink. "Why won't she just notice me?"

"Maybe because you're always drinking and not talking to her!" Arman teased, nudging Vikram playfully. "How can she notice you when you're busy getting sloshed?"

"Shut up!" Vikram retorted, though a small smile crept onto his face. "This is serious, Arman. I need to do something."

"Okay, okay. What's your plan?" Kartike asked, taking a sip from his own drink. "You can't just sit here and wish for her."

Vikram sighed deeply, his thoughts swirling. "I don't know. I just keep thinking about all the times we've spent together. I've never felt like this about anyone else."

"Then tell her!" Arman said, leaning closer. "You need to man up and show her how you feel."

"Easier said than done," Vikram grumbled, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "What if she doesn't feel the same? What if I embarrass myself?"

"Then you move on," Kartike said, shrugging. "But you won't know unless you try. You can't keep hiding behind this bar."

Vikram looked at his friends, feeling a mix of frustration and admiration for their confidence. "You guys don't understand! It's different with her. She's special."

"Then prove it!" Arman urged, raising his glass in a toast. "To Vikram and his endless love for Mehek!"

"To Vikram!" Kartike echoed, clinking his glass against theirs, though he looked more skeptical than enthusiastic.

Vikram took a gulp from his glass, letting the warmth of the whiskey fill him. "I don't know how to prove it. I'm not good with words."

"You're not good with anything when you're drunk!" Arman laughed. "But seriously, you need a plan. Maybe do something sweet for her?"

"Like what? Buy her flowers?" Vikram asked, rolling his eyes. "That's so cliché."

"Cliché is good sometimes!" Kartike chimed in. "Girls like that stuff. Just think of something she enjoys."

"Maybe I can take her to that new café she mentioned," Vikram said, his voice thoughtful. "You know, the one with the amazing pastries?"

"Now you're talking!" Arman said, his enthusiasm returning. "And make it a surprise. Girls love surprises!"

"Right! A surprise!" Vikram exclaimed, feeling a flicker of hope ignite in his heart. "But what if she doesn't want to go with me?"

"Then you just keep asking until she says yes," Kartike suggested. "Persistence is key, my friend."