Advait's Jheel || 18+

💐 10 💐

Hope and false assurances had always been a cruel bitch in my life. That was the second time I had fallen for it.

____

The head goon led me into the Winds and Waves restaurant by Upper Lake. The lake glistened under the sun, a serene blue stretching far and wide, the weather a picture-perfect sunny day. Yet, none of it mattered to me. My steps were heavy, fists clenched tightly, and anger simmering within me like a storm waiting to erupt. 

I wanted nothing more than to see Advait Thakre bleed for everything he had done. 

The moment I stepped through the entrance, it felt as though time itself had paused. The entire restaurant was empty. The space was decorated with red roses and balloons, their vibrant color mocking the fury burning in my heart. 

I stopped in my tracks, the absurdity of the romantic scene momentarily stunning me. The head goon, noticing my hesitation, gestured impatiently. "Come," he said curtly. 

I forced myself to move, the weight of my anger propelling me forward. He led me to the balcony overlooking the lake, where the view was breathtaking—but my focus was locked on the man standing before the railing. 

Advait Thakre. 

He faced the lake, his back turned to me, exuding a calm arrogance that only fueled my rage. He wore a black button-up shirt, its sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing veined forearms adorned with an expensive watch. His black dress pants and polished shoes only added to his composed, domineering presence. 

His hands were buried casually in his pockets, as though he hadn’t just orchestrated a scene designed to bring me to him.

The goon beside me bowed slightly. “Bhaiya,” he said before retreating, leaving me alone with the man I loathed. 

My fists tightened further.

I stood next to the table set for two, adorned with candles and roses. Advait turned slightly, a soft smile on his face. "Jheel, come here," he said. I didn’t move. Not even an inch. Something felt off. I was expecting anger, a confrontation—anything but this calmness, this sweetness that hid what he was truly feeling. Advait chuckled and shook his head, walking towards me. "You still don’t listen to me, do you? Just like when you were seven." He pulled out the chair for me. "Sit down."

I didn’t sit. Instead, I asked, my voice a little sharper, "What’s so important that you had to drag me out of class? Why all this?" Advait’s smile didn’t fade. "First, sit."

My frustration flared. "I didn’t come here to sit and eat! You humiliated me in front of my class. Do you know what your people did? They slapped my professor and threw my friend to the ground, manhandling him!"

Advait leaned against the chair, unbothered. "None of that would have happened if you’d just listened to me, stayed home, and not run off to college."

My brows furrowed and my mouth twisted in disgust as anger surged through me. "You—!" I started, but Advait walked around the table, cutting me off, his tone calm yet firm. "I never wanted to do any of this, but you force my hand, Jheel. You provoke me. You never let me do anything for you."

I stared at him sharply as he stopped right in front of me. "You want to do something for me?" I asked, my voice cold.

He nodded, his eyes softening as they met mine. Then, gently, he took my hand in his, his words coming out almost like a confession. "I want to do everything for you."

I couldn’t help but smile, but it was far from kind. It was sarcastic, biting, and full of heat. "Then let me go. Leave my life."

His body stiffened instantly. I saw the hardness settle into his grey eyes, his expression darkening. He stood there for a long moment, his silence louder than anything he could have said. I held my breath, enjoying the rare sight of him speechless, stunned by my words. Finally, I had him where I wanted him—caught off guard, just like the mountain that falls after it’s shaken enough. Ab aaya ooth pahad ke neeche.