The Bet is On (Completed☑️)

3. Tea and Contentment

Chapter Three

"Mm..."

Her aunt is best at Biryani.

Her relatives do not sit idle when they gather at weddings. They help in cooking, arrangements and other chores.

Sitting onto the slab, she begins throwing spoons on spoons of delicious rice in her hungry stomach.

Her moments of hungry-feeding halt hearing a manly cough. Not any man's cough but his.

She looks up for the confirmation.

What the!

Her spoon stops in mid as she sees him invading her safe spot.

Go out!

Not heeding her metal shrieks, he formally asks for food. Did he not cause the environment to go deliciously intense ten minutes ago?

Nonetheless, his inner man wants some more enjoyment of her reactions to his existence.

"I am hungry. Can I get these too?" He points towards her plate and she hardly composes herself from smashing the plate onto the floor. She hates it when people disturb her dining because later stomach defies cold food, deriding the delay.

"Um, Sure." Nodding slightly, she gets up to dish out rice in a separate plate from the bowl, wholly cleaning it. "I am sorry only..."

He meddles her words, causing her mouth to stop. It gives more bounce to her simple triangle looped golden earrings. "They are enough." Surely, he would not want to miss delicious wedding meal.

Next the plate goes into microwave for two and a half minutes.

She goes back to where she has left her plate and mannerly takes the chair this time. "Please take a seat." Thinking hard about his behavior, she opts to go extremely formal with him.

Her appetite has gone nervous, too, as they sit opposite to each other. Her body desires are getting awaken by being on same table with him – alone. Why his grown-self initiates the war of butterflies in the pit of her stomach? Hell, they have played together in their childhood, been to the same school from his seventh grade till intermediate. Then, he was sent abroad for higher studies.

She cannot let herself to be down.

To show zero impact of his existence, she begins eating until microwave beeps telling the rice are steamy hot for eating.

Mannerly, she stands up and presents the plate to him with a fork and spoon.

With a bright smile etched to his face, he begins eating. He had been treated as a servant since today's sunup. No one bothered to ask him for food being too engrossed in preparations.

"Thank you." He pays his gratitude in return of which she only smiles – a polite one.

As she has been at half when he entered, she finishes earlier than him. Being a good girl, she picks her plate and puts it in dishwasher.

Before she could return, he throws bomb on her.

Nah, not another flirty sentence but a demand of tea.

"Can you please make me a cup of tea?"

She takes in a deep breath, calming her nerves. If she makes, her conscience will rise questions at her, if she does not, he would mind. Making tea is not a big issue. The desires in eyes is. She has grown enough to properly scan them.

"There are many stalls outside." She goes with middle option.

"As you know, I take strong tea... My head is aching without it." His artistically lie makes her feel his pain. Why would she not? She is herself a tea-addict.