The Gymnast's Escapade

The Hot Plate

Warning:- I was high on weeds while writing so beware🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

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Aarsh is the final ship name. So congratulations to all those who selected it.

Act 2, Scene 4

To think to break something is easy but to act upon breaking something is as crafty as a non-painter participating in the painting championship! Isn't It?

Harsh appeared to calculate the line for himself for the next two and a half days; he thought, and thought, some more but ideas seem to be out of coverage area for him as the network of his mobile phone is limited for most of the time inside his Villa.

How Ironic!

Neither could he talk to his would-be-fiancée nor he could send her texts because due to the rainy weather the network towers around the place seemed as they were having their own vacations. Even the landlines were trouble-makers these days. Oh, Why?

A toxic situation to his mind when he needed to hear her voice so desperately, but he was stuck inside the Villa with no advance communication facilities. The only message after that night they exchanged was the other morning where she wished him luck and informed him that she's off for her practice.

And then like a lost brat, he waited for more after wishing her good-day but the unhealthy, uncooperative, and terrible network systems started the game of hide n seek like a newly wedded bride would shy away from her new husband.

But considering his future bride, he was certain, she's not shying away from talking her heart out with him and neither did he want her to act like a typical girl with OTT dramas of how her jewellery is irritating her, or how tired she's that she never wants to marry again.

And for men the line is stuck —how much does this girl talk? Where am I stuck? (A Jackass) *Subconscious curses at the men clan*

See, overload of melodramatic statements and both do it in one night only as if before that they both were sleeping in a lion's den to not realize—wedding is no playing house-house with your friends, it's the tiresome thing but why in front of your spouse you've to pretend as if you're doing a favour by marrying them.

Duffer, why're you debating over it now when you're supposed to think something else?

"Oh shit," Harsh cursed looking around the big living room of his Villa where he has been sitting for more than two hours now and all he could think was of the things he wasn't supposed to think.

This is what happens in the time of need. Human brains are the most fucked up. They love to solve all the world's chaos at that time only when their life is hanging in the middle of the street.

Like, girls think about their favourite serials while studying for boards and guys think of 1500 ways to kill their opponent of the basketball or football field, but no one ever does what they should do, and that's study. Wasting time is our habit. Deal with it!

"Dammit! Not again," he said with a sullen look taking over his face and rose on his feet—tucking his hands in his jeans pocket, he paced the hall now; his eyes shifted from the ground to the large wall drawing of his grandfather on the right and for a second, he felt intimidated by it.

Now even his drawing is royally insulting me!

How cruel!

For the next fifteen minutes, he continued to stride from the centre to the entrance and vice versa, until he bumped into the cleaner coming inside with a box.