Terrorized By Love [ON HOLD]

Chapter 7: Flattery

Somehow, the two of them fell back asleep, without saying another word to each other. They just basked themselves in that strange sense of comfort that they felt around each other, and slowly allowed it to lull them to sleep.

The hours passed, and soon it was morning. Mahima woke up to voices coming from outside the hut. Looking around, she noticed that Dev wasn't around. The twenty two year old slid off the bed and tied her hair back with a rubber band that she had kept on her wrist.

Her stomach grumbled. She was really hungry.

Mahima stepped outside the hut and noticed that Dev was sitting down with a man - this one unfamiliar. Vijith was nowhere to be seen.

"So this is the President's daughter?" the man asked.

Dev nodded, but didn't even spare Mahima a glance. She looked down, unsure of how to even speak to him. Last night, they had fallen asleep holding hands, with her face pressed against his arm. It was a strange sense of closeness and intimacy, but there was also something very awkward about it, that she was certain that he felt too but would ignore.

"I'm Laksh," the man introduced.

He was a handsome man, similar to Dev and Vijith, although he was taller and had broader shoulders. He was clearly well-built and muscular as well. His hair was longer and messy and he had soft brown eyes.

"I'm Mahima," Mahima replied politely. "Where's Vijith?"

"We traded Vijith for Laksh," Dev intervened. "Vijith wasn't making protecting you his priority."

Mahima nodded, feeling relieved that Vijith was gone, although she couldn't trust Laksh completely either.

"Mahima, I brought some clothes and some things for you from the department store," Laksh told her politely and handed her a bag.

Mahima took it gratefully from him, glad that someone was considerate enough to think about what she could change into.

"Can I take a shower?" Mahima asked. "I mean is there a place to?"

"Behind the hut," Dev answered coolly. "There's a tap and a bucket. Laksh should have brought a towel."

Mahima nodded and went inside first to take a look at what kind of clothes were in the bag. There were a few salwar suits, some jeans, t-shirts, night clothes, even undergarments. She felt very awkward that a random man got her undergarments for her, but she was grateful that she had them. She wondered how he knew her size?

As she was holding a bra up, she heard footsteps enter the hut and she quickly threw the bra back into the plastic bag.

It was Dev.

"I told him your measurements," Dev answered, and Mahima gulped.

"How do you know?" she managed to ask nervously.

"When I carried you, I got your measurements," he answered coolly.

"How?" she asked, totally confused.

"By feel and by sight," he replied. "It's my job to be aware and notice things. Don't take it the wrong way."

Mahima felt very embarrassed so she just nodded and picked up her towel before pushing past Dev to go out of the hut and shower.

As soon as she went to the back of the hut and turned on the tap, she blushed slightly. Something about his indifference made her feel giddy. As awkward as it was that he knew what her bra size was, she couldn't help but find it oddly thrilling. The man who held her hand last night knew her measurements without even touching her inappropriately.

It was almost flattering that he could calmly figure out these things without having any ulterior motives, and this flattery was making her heart flutter.