OPR@UrService

OPR - 6

For warriors battle scars are a symbol of pride. Often described as an understated version of what actually happened at a particular life changing moment of theirs. Everyone of us struggles in our daily lives. There is no doubt about it. At a minor level we are all soldiers fighting for a cause. To gain something that remains at a distance. Right?

These thoughts clouded the mind of Aman Rathod the right hand man of ASR as he pulled out the first aid kit from the pantry drawer in a haste. Well the guy always wanted to join the army and after watching what occurred sometime back he believes that Arnav Singh Raizada is a role model in every field. Be it fashion industry or defense. Silently Aman praised the man and then left the pantry placing the kit on the table where stood his Boss and Ms Gupta.

###

Drip

Drip

Drip

Blood dripped from the deep gash which now looked like a battle scar to the prideful OPR. That angry slash looked as red as the woman who stood a few inches away from him. Her nostrils flairing as she coiled the bandages around his palm to close the wound. Her actions and body language a juxtaposition for the onlookers.

Stop staring. And there is no need to bask in the glory of an imaginative victory. This is not something to be proud of.

The words only pleased to arrogant beast further. Even in her outraged avatar Khushi Kumari Gupta appeared to be no less than an Angry Goddess. Her wide yawning pupils were only filled with rage right now.

I am fine sweetheart. You should be worried about him. That creep wont be discharged from the hospital until next month.

The loud shutting of the medical box was the only response that he received from his chatterbox of a PA. Now this is not the reaction that he wanted. Sneering at her silent treatment the animal let out a low growl. He cupped her face boldly and questioned her behavior.

Why are you even mad at me? I mean he deserves so much more than what he got. I am nowhere at fault here.

Retreating from his hold Khushi Gupta snorted at the words of Mr. Raizada. This man is hell bent on claiming himself a saint. She mused. And then Khushi recalled how exactly the two had ended up here in the pantry treating an injury.

###

Twenty minutes ago;

Everything was running smoothly. She and Aman Sir were supervising the board meeting in the conference room. And for a change ASR sat all calm and composed hearing all the latest updates about AR. But then in the words of her Buaji 'the atmosphere was jinxed by an evil spirit'.

She leaned over the table to pick up a file from the desk when an unwanted touch caressed her waist. And it did not take a second for her to understand that he was not Arnav Raizada. Unfortunately this entire scene did not skip the eagle eyes of her Boss, and then what happened still seems blurry.

Quick and hard punches, fractured and almost mutilated limb, painful cries and only the brave Aman Rathod trying to stop the out of control Arnav Singh Raizada. Before Khushi could wake up from her haze the man had accidently sliced his palm from a paper knife. And then it was only her screams that made the man halt his actions.

Before leaving with her Boss Khushi saw him hissing something in the morons ears who only nodded with fear in his eyes. She could swear she heard words 'killing' and 'mine' before ASR pushed him away.

###

Seeing his object of affection lost in her own world OPR snaked his uncut palm around her petite form. As expected bewildered eyes locked with his own. Satisfaction wrapped around his dark mind after receiving Khushis attention. And then the monster declared his intentions to the woman bluntly.