Arjun's POV
A myriad of thoughts run wildly in my mind. It's too much. I leave Varma Mansion and get home as soon as possible. On the way to my room I grab a bottle of vodka and a glass.
I lock the door behind me, lose my clothes and proceed out to the balcony in my boxers. The cold air giving me goosebumps in an instant. I unscrew the bottle of alcohol and sniff lightly. It isn't the strongest kind but just enough to make my bursting mind a bit fuzzy so I can think, or lack thereof. I pour into the glass and put the bottle away.
I fold my hands on the railing and lean forward gazing far away into the black night. A few things need addressing today. Firstly I know what I have to do and since that's not exactly what I want to do, I need to convince my inner pig to fuck off and get my shit together. Secondly, I need to think about what is that I want with Alia. There is no possibility that things will develop between the two of us but instead of letting those accumulate unattended in a clusterfuck perhaps setting things straight will give my nerves some closure. To that thought I take my first sip of the water of life.
Its really strange of you to open up about Ishaan to her my subconscious pipes in referring to my father. One of the cons of alcohol is definitely the conversations you end up having with yourself. That shit hits like a pile of bricks.
It definitely is bizarre that I would share my family issues, but at the same time, something tells me that I'm already stripped naked before Alia. The way she looks at me, its as if I don't owe her any explanations because she knows them already. She understands where I'm coming from, what I went through and why I am the way I am. The fucked up part. I snort. This is ridiculous and impossible and probably the alcohol speaking but deep down perhaps somewhere in me I've already bared myself to her unconsciously and she's seen it all. Dude you're losing it.
Alia isn't stupid. She's so well read, open-minded and crazy and wild in her own way that I don't think there's anything that'll scare or frighten her making her run to the hills. A strong willed girl like her deserves way more than to get tangled in the mess of wool that I am. I'm the knotted bale of ruined wool dipped in black metallic paint that should stay away from her.
As a matter of fact I realize that she is definitely getting attached to me. Or should I say attracted to me? There is no way in hell she would have kissed me today otherwise. I take another drink. Alia isn't fucked up like me to notice that she's unconsciously submitting to me. I feel like I'm drowning in a flooding ocean of guilt. I finish all the vodka in my glass and a lone tear pricks my eye due to the burning sensation at the back of my throat. A series of images of her race through my mind. Her relaxed body leaning forward toward me. Open palms facing the ceiling when we sit beside one another. Her breathing matching the tempo of mine when we dance. The goosebumps I think I cause when we do the triple turn and back bends. When her heart rate starts spiking up and her breath catches when I pull her too close to me. I can comprehend girls too well now.
Alia doesn't realize it obviously. But I'm positive that if, if -something I will not do- if I were to kiss her, she wouldn't pull away. Its sick of me to think this, but until when will I stash my dark thoughts away at the back of my head? We're on mutually friendly terms, but I think we failed to see when it developed to something more. Then again, it might me the alcohol cooking up nonsense inside my head. Oh lord.
I zone out after that. Its a maze of memories. Ugly ones. My mind plays an awkward game of air hockey between Naila and Alia. Its a sick coincidence indeed. When Naila is spelt backwards, it gives Alia. Fate sure knows how to give me hell. I glance at the bottle of booze and huff.
The next few minutes are a little weird, I see Shrek and Elsa from Disney arguing about how Sharpies and white board markers are two different things with varied purposes. Elsa is wrong but she wins the argument after freezing Shrek's balls mid-debate when he offers to do a demonstration to prove his point. Women always fucking get what they want and men are, they are, we just get used and thrown away. But like thank god she doesn't sing 'Let it go'. I would have suffered a hearing loss.
My heart gets heavy. I'm sad. That's right. I'm really fucking sad.
It sucks when you realize you have to do something you don't want to because its for the benefit of someone you care about. I'm that asshole who doesn't want to hold back but cares about the girl who's got me drinking. When the fuck did my life become a joke? Again.
The point is that I have to focus on how this is best for the both of us. Drawing the line and moving past what happened today. Getting back to what it was like before. And that's it. I cant have the both of us falling for each other. How tough can be that huh? I scored a bloody 92% in my tenth boards I can do fucking anything, my inner dick booms into a mic. I roll my eyes and head back into my bedroom.
I had my old bed and mattress thrown and bought a new one after what happened on the night of my birthday. I couldn't even look at it without getting nauseous back then. Some beds still make me sick. I plug my huge Electrohome into the socket and choose a vinyl record that will sing a calming tune. I got into classical music when I sadly discovered that metal rock music inside available in record format. Its hella dramatic at times but nights like this, when I can actually relate to it, its oddly comforting.
I decide against taking a shower because that would wash off the hint of jasmine clinging to my skin and I tonight, I want to sleep surrounded by it. When did you become such a pathetic fuck, asshole? I ask myself pitifully. I quietly blame it on the liquor and switch off the lights, getting under the covers.
Undoubtedly, I still do have a lot of questions I need to ask myself. There was a moment in my life after Naila left when I could actually stand up on my feet again and see things distinctly for what they were. But now, its all swirled into a mighty fine haze once again. Except perhaps one thing that's crystal clear, I have never met a girl like Alia in my whole fucking life.
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Finding Him and Me
Teen Fiction"If you were a boy, I'd ask you to take off your t-shirt for spoiling mine." He retorts "If this wasn't a restaurant I'd slap you across your arrogant face". I spit with anger. Alia plays the role of Cinderella in her Ballet Academy. One fine night...
