Her Deviant Husband

5. Petty Wine

Reyansh's Pov.

The smoke curled around me similar to the fog that hazed my mind. I leaned against the wall by the café, staring blankly at the street in front of me, but my mind was stuck on last night like a broken tape recorder.

What the fuck was I thinking?

Staring at her like that—watching her like some creep through the balcony window. It wasn't like I planned it. 

I just... glanced, and then I kept watching. Ah shit. 

My breath hitched when the image of her returned in my head again.

Water sliding down her skin, her lips parting as her brows furrowed, like she was thinking too hard about something that hurt her or annoyed her.

That frown.
Why the hell did it bother me so much?
I couldn't even sleep.

I shouldn't have given a shit. It was none of my business what went on in her head, or her life, or how the water looked tracing down the curves of her body. 

But I couldn't stop thinking about it.

The cigarette between my fingers burned to the end, and I ground it into the wall, and light another one. 

I wasn't supposed to care.
She is a pain in my ass—always too goddamn happy, too chatty, with everyone. I should've been plotting her downfall, not replaying the image of her under that shower.

God.

I dragged on the cigarette, watching the smoke rise into the air. 

The cold confidence I was used to wrapping around myself like armor was fraying, and I hated it. Hated how she was getting under my skin in a way no one else ever had.

But before I could lose myself in my thoughts with another drag. I see her.

Of course, it had to be her.

Athira fucking Roy.

She was heading straight toward me, eyes locked on mine.

For the first time it felt like the light had acknowledged the presence of darkness. And Even if I sounded like some weird poet fucker it felt different to actually have her looking into my eyes.

It was different than always watching her look at someone else.

Except she didn't smile this time.

No, the little hellion stormed right up to me and snatched the cigarette right out of my hand like she owned the goddamn place.

"What the hell?" I snapped, glaring down at her. 

Not once in my life had anyone dared to pull shit like that with me. "Who do you think you are?"

"Smoking's prohibited here," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, stubbing the cigarette out on the wall beside me. She didn't even fucking flinch.

I blinked, trying to process the guts on this woman.
"What the fuck?"

She just looked up at me with that same smug attitude, arms crossed.
"The person who just saved your lungs and the environment," she said, like I should thank her for that.

I couldn't help it—I chuckled.
Dark and humorless. 

She had no idea what she was fucking with.
"You've got some nerve."

She shrugged. "You're not the first person to tell me that. Want to try again?"

I should've walked away.
Could've ignored her, like I usually did with everyone who thought they could stand in my way. But fuck me, I wasn't backing down.
Not with her.