Sandcastles | A Virat Kohli Fanfiction

10 • the excursion

Kavya's POV

Sounds of heavy panting woke me up from sleep that I wasn't aware of being in.

My eyes opened to polished teakwood walls of our cottage; interiors of which were a combination of beautiful red and white. Few feet from the door, I saw Virat doing one-arm pushups and breathing in a distinct rhythm while sweat glistened his entire body.

I was in sheer confusion.

"When did we get here?" I asked him, stepping out from my blanket.

"Around 8 pm last night. You looked too tired and cute to wake up, so I didn't ruin it. You are welcome."

"Oh, please. I am not even thanking you in the first place. Like, how dare you pick me up to the bed? I mean the audacity -"

"Seriously, bhalaai ka jamana hi nahi hai," he said shaking his head dramatically.

"Anyway, there's your bag. Freshen up and join me for a walk. It's 5 AM, must be quiet and cold outside. Acha lagega." he added.

I unzipped my bag and grabbed a handtowel first, and a moment later decided to change and wear something cosy, I randomly settled for an off-shoulder ruffle top.

He was about to leave the room and I was about to enter the bathroom when both of us unknowingly averted our gaze back to each other. The chilled Coorg air filled the room and cooled the heat in my eyes. He whispered an innocent 'sorry'.
I smiled and without saying a word, got inside the bathroom, bolting the door behind me.

***

The grass was crisp from the morning dew under our feet.
The wisps of white fog drifted from the rolling hills as the sun made its way above the horizon - it's soft light blending with the aroma of raw coffee. The peace of the dawn was soul-soothing.

I set my lenses onto the tripod to capture the whole course of the day from a suitable spot so that it would make a perfect time-lapse and rejoined Virat in our carefree, otherworldly exploration.

We strolled till the far end of the meadows where the trees seemed to be taller and varied. The hedgerows were pregnant with berries and we tasted some.

We were drawn back to our childhood as we devoured the berries with our red wet hands like babies.

We talked of our fears and fantasies of those times.
He told me how he was called the 'kaccha limbu' of their gully cricket team and how the older guys required him only when they had smashed a window and how all the ladies in the colony would get tricked by the charm on his cute face and would return the ball at the cost of pulling his cherry-like cheeks.

And I told him how I was brought up single-handedly by my father whose wife died as soon as she brought me to this amazing world, and how I spent nights reading her diaries where she wrote muses and poetry about living, about the love she had for dad and the anticipation of my birth, and how I had got everything from her - my eyes and even my name - except the art of loving.

Virat said that he was sorry for me and I told him that he need not be.

As we tread deeper into the hedges, we discovered a narrow pathway worn out due to walking. We traced it as far as we could just for the sake of serving Virat's curiosity to find what lied at its close.

A waterfall!

It was swishing over the rocks joyfully. When it toppled into the ecstasy-pool, it foamed it at the bottom. Pebbles whisked about in the under wash like pieces of glitter. We could see a group of geese grazing by the bank and the scene was picture perfect.