"I'm not your brother." A devil smile played on his lips.
Elevating the right brow, I asked, "What do you mean?"
My hand clenched the beer bottle as his gaze intruded into mine.
I hated him. I told the ugliest things of my life to him. I confessed...
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"It only hurts when you start pretending it doesn't."
"Be fast and quick about it," I grumbled, falling down on the chair, and firing a glare at him.
I shouldn't believe his words, knowing he was a master of webbing words and feeding lies to get the things he desired. But a part of me, a part where humanity still breathed was bothered about Radhika, and I couldn't ignore the expression drowned on his face. He was terrified. I had never seen Rahul terrified. I had seen him scared, cocky, smirky and arrogant, but terrified wasn't the demeanor he wore in front of me.
Or maybe he was just lying, seeking to play with me and my feelings. But his face, damn I couldn't dwindle his face from my conscious. For a matter of fact, I couldn't overlook the last night events. I knew he was with a bad crowd but the accurate interruption of it never formed. What type of crowd was he indulging himself into?
Sitting opposite to me, he played with the corners of the napkin, tearing them into pieces, and avoiding eye contact. After the silence of some minutes, he cleared his throat. "I've been said to kidnap and kill Radhika."
"Why?" Barely a whisper.
He inclined down on the table, allowing the waiter pass from our side. "Because she's very hot and sexy. She's killing all the boys. I think I should kill her instead."
And the terrified expression was succeeded by the smirk and cleverness. The shock cemented on my face was nothing as compared to the distress and nerves I had gone through. For a second, I was perplexed, permitting my brain to grasp his words, and function accurately to decipher them, and then, I cupped my mouth.
He was smirking, eyes twinkling with mischief. How could he smirk? Did he have any idea from what I went through? For how much worried I was perceiving that one more person I cared about was closer to death? Feeling I couldn't save her, and that too would be gone from my life like any other person, leaving me alone to fend for my feelings.
I was on the verge of crying; either from the shock or the relief that dragged through my veins, soothing the jumpiness.
"Do you think life is a joke?" I spat venomously. "Do you think you can go and play around by doing this joke? You killed me!" Killed me with the thought of death. I despised death and the influence it held over all of us. Loathed how it seized every single thing from me and giggled at my back; not caring about me.
He drummed his fingers on the table top, and leaned back, showing me a lopsided grin. Why did I even engage myself with him when I had an exact idea of what type of person he was?
He was heartless. And I was wasting my time with him.
I picked my purse and stood up. Immediately, he stood up, donning a sincere face but I wasn't buying it. He could never be serious. For him, life was always a joke. He had no idea what it meant to lose and see that life never played with the rules you had created. It had its own set of rules, commanding over us and making us see we had no control, but we were the mere puppet of an act called life.
