In His Custody ✎ (MaNan)

✰ 9 - drastic measures

In no way are we unlucky for not having our wish granted. Yes, we worshipped PaNi as a couple for eternity, and at some point, we fans were granted that wish. Their relationship now is much more wholesome than a romantic relationship and in their happiness lies ours... right from day one.

Niti looks gorgeous in her sagai waali pictures :") main bhi kar loon shaadi agar ladki itni patakhaa lagi toh! ;) So only happy tears now, and I'm so grateful to see the pure bliss on her face, and that eternal glow that no hope of any kind could supress <3

With love, a PaNi lover, Krishi :3

⭒⭒⭒

Manik

She didn't dare look at me that day when she concluded I was a teacher as our bodies bumped. For the first time, in the history of Manik Malhotra, I didn't feel like the 'principal's son'–a boy who had a name, a form of power, in the school.

With her came a dimension of my life that I hadn't explored yet. She was new and hence was I. In the haze of foggy glass confines and bath bomb scents, I could vividly see a short silhouette scurrying around the campus like a lost source of light finding its way out. Ironically, if it may seem, that was our beginning and our end.

I shut the sizzling hot shower head off. The subterranean chills were soothing against the humidity in the city. Before dabbing myself squeaky clean and dry, I peeked a look into the mirror beside the bathroom door that did very little to conceal conversations behind it.

"Do you want to head out tonight? Let's go to the clubs." A walk-in closet was enclosed behind the beds. I hummed Luke Comb's Hurricane while slicking my hair behind with a curly metal headband. I believed that look made me a lot like younger Manik Malhotra again, and that was who I suddenly wanted to be.

"Hey Manik, you would know right, which clubs in the city are the best?" Oh, so now they need me. It was typical, how when favours were required, people would be the nicest to you, and otherwise, they couldn't give a damn less. Bill's dress coat was draped over the only chair in that room. I smirked to myself before pulling a cigarette out of his stash. Just a payback and he couldn't protest.

They eyed me, and then the board that hung behind the main door–no smoking, but didn't dare say a word. I fiddled around for a lighter which, once was tendered to me, triggered my response. "Best in what sense? Cheap booze, or more slutty women to nail, or music you can vibe to, or..." The white burning tip etched into ashes, one millimetre every second, just like my patience with those men.

"Conventional, Indian-style nightclubs." Did they mean kohttas, the conventional Indian brothels? Nevertheless, I didn't want to be rude to them for no reason. That zone was only reserved for people who messed with me or people whose lives I wanted to dig myself into: for lack of a better approach.

"Umm... There's one in Worli." I slipped my phone out. I was then scanned from head to toe. Black sweatpants and loose grey sports tanks didn't quite match party outfit standards, not even in Mumbai. "Are you not joining?"

"I am so tired, so jetlagged..." I was quick to come up with something convincing. "But you guys should go, have fun. Take Cabir with you." Definitely, they all preferred Cabir's company over mine, which turned out great for me, I reckon.

I hunched over the balcony rails, resting both my elbows on it. Outside was a spitting sky mixing with the warmth in the air, being swished around by the winds. I smiled, before taking a hefty blow off the filter and threw my head back, inviting the familiar high from high-school. God, she hated the smell of it; yet the suffocation it brought within was more comforting to me than anything else at that point of time.