A World Without Fire

H. Another beer

"I was seriously talking about the painting," I clarified.

She laughed and said, "You should've seen your face—it turned red. You're so scared on this date. Have you ever even been on one before?"

"Hey! You're not even behaving like a gentleman. I wouldn't last a second with a guy who talked like this. Real people don't talk this way."

"Oh, was I really that bad? I thought boys and girls talked like this?"

"No, they talk very nicely. Like asking, *'What did you want to become? What are your dreams? What will you eat? What's your favorite food?'"

"Then I must be one of those creepy flirty boys. I feel ashamed thinking that if I talked to Vishwash like this, he'd probably get scared and run away," she said, laughing.

"Of course, he'd run away. Even I felt like running away," I said with a serious face.

"Okay! But even if I acted like a gentleman, you'd still run away, wouldn't you? Just like you did with all the other boys, saying, 'You never felt the same.'"

"Are you accusing me of liking flirty guys?" I asked, surprised. Shraddha started laughing.

"No! But have you ever tried? Maybe that's your type."

"No! And I don't want to!" I said angrily.

"Calm down! Our date isn't over yet. We still have dancing left," she said, smiling mischievously.

I made a face that clearly said I'd rather die than go on another date with her. Shraddha's conversations were far from normal.

She grabbed my hand and started slow dancing with me. There was still a small space between us. I asked her, "I thought painters would have deep thoughts, talk about philosophy. But you're nothing like your paintings. All your paintings seem so sad, as if you're hiding a lot. But you're completely the opposite."

She listened to me for a moment and then thought for a few seconds. But the way she looked at me, I felt she already knew the answer—she didn't even need to think.

"Painting is like a diary. People write their deepest feelings in a diary, and I paint mine. Whenever I'm sad, I paint. When I'm happy, I can't paint."

"I wish I could see your sadness because I find it so beautiful," I said, gazing at her paintings.

She looked at me and asked, "But don't you find me beautiful?"

I started laughing. For some reason, her flirting was beginning to grow on me. She laughed along with me. I stopped taking her seriously.

Sitting on her bed, I teased, "It's a good thing you're not a guy. You'd get slapped twice a day."

"Am I really that bad? Then why are you here with me? Go ahead, leave this date," Shraddha said, pretending to act upset dramatically.

"Be honest, is this really your first time doing this?"

"Yeah, but my mischievous mind always wanted to do these things. I just never got the chance or met anyone. Finally, I had the time, so I followed my heart. this is really weird though."

I couldn't help but laugh at the innocent face she made. "Your thoughts are so strange. By the way, I love painting, but I can't paint. My patience level sucks, so I just admire other people's paintings. I always thought I was the weird one."

"You're not alone. Everyone's weird in their own way. They just pretend to be normal," she replied.

"You're right. Finally, I'm starting to enjoy this date. Can I get another beer?" I smiled.

"No! You'll have to go downstairs and get it from the fridge yourself. My knees hurt."

"You're so lazy."

She laughed and opened her hair again, lying back on the bed. looking at ceiling. I asked her, "Alright, I'm leaving. This date is over."

She got up from the bed as I started to walk away. "Wait! Isn't there supposed to be a kiss on my date?"

"What?"

"Like that boy taught you, right? Teach me how to kiss the same way. And give me your number too. we can chat if I have any doubts."

I squinted at her and said, "Did you buy a course from me? Why should I provide you with all these services?" I yelled. 

I took deep breathe, I continue, "Anyway, I don't like kissing. Last time I did it, I felt like throwing up."

"Then what are you? A plant?"

"You could say that. Since then, I only talk during dates."

"So, what about sex?"

I coughed and said, "I've never done it out of fear. If a kiss felt that bad, imagine the rest."

"Then I'll have to find someone else to teach me dating."

"Vishwash is a great kisser. He had three girlfriends, and he's good in bed too—he told me himself."

"You never tried anything with him?"

I Remembered the scene in Vishwash's car, where I sat, annoyed and irritated.

"You're my friend. I can't love you," I said.

Vishwash replied, "Just sleep with me once, and you'll fall in love with me."

"Shut up, creep!"

"But all three of my ex-girlfriends liked this about me."

"You said we'd stay friends, so where did this love come from?"

"Would you have talked to me if I'd said, 'I love you'? Do not be friends with me."

"No! Because I don't want a boyfriend."

Back to the present—

"My grandfather used to say—"

"Say what?"

" 'The right feelings only come with the right person.' "

"You and your logic!" As I was leaving, she called out, "Hey!" I turned around.