Two Lines | ✓

twenty eight

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"I have been with you, Kanak."

She wasn't anything like she used to be, except the rudeness oozing out of her, still fresh as it was before.

Wearning a jacket and over-used as well as over-washed jeans she almost looked like a young chap with her boy-cut hairstyle. But he could cut through her exterior. She was using a mask, a facade to cover her feminine features, to distract a man's vision and to object nature.

Estrogen had done it's job and also Kanak.

"Exactly."

"What?"

He was too busy observing her hidden agenda to dupe the world that he didn't notice her voice.

"You were, Bhaskar."

He blinked. And after ten seconds he actually understood the note which she tried to emphasize.

"As if you have a present?"

The smirk from her face was wiped out. She slowly stalked towards him, it was dangerous, as if tigress readying herself.

"Mind your business, Mr. Bhaskar Gayakwad."

He continued as usual, "Ouch, Miss. Kanak Ghosh! You are a cheat, you don't have courage to face world and are designing space crafts as an escape. You aren't passionate about it."

Both of them had no idea about who had stepped closer to other leaving just a fine gap but the rage was firing everything.

He placed his right hand on her cheek and murmured,  "Miss. Kanak Ghosh, you are just using these things like you used me all those years back."

He could feel her anger, it was pure like it had been before. She still was like that open book which she used to be.

"Fuck off."

She pushed him with all the energy she could muster. She obviously was tired but his words had pinched her brain like electric shock.

He stumbled back and fell down.

"Fuck off, Bhaskar."

She wasn't crying, her eyes showed no tears.

"You know nothing. So you better fuck off!"

But he knew she was crying.