A guide to being just enemies

Silvery water rained over us, drenching us in the embrace of the moonless night. Each droplet felt like cold punishment as it slid down, creating patterns on my skin.

The yellow glow of the streetlight shone over his face. My eyes trailed the droplets sliding through his stubble and dripping down his white shirt, turning it translucent in the heavy rain.

But he stood in front of me with his hands in his pockets as if this pouring rain and chill in the bones were mere inconveniences he didn't bother to acknowledge.

The metro rumbled above us reminding me of the stretching silence and the fact that I was transfixed by the droplets tracing his body.

"You didn't answer my question." He spoke with a hint of lightness in his voice.

This was not good. This lightness. It was better when we fought. It made me forget the effect he had on me.

"I don't think that's any of your business, you jerk," I said, desperately looking around for an auto. My kurta was sticking to my skin a little bit too much for my liking.

"What I think," he said, stepping closer, "is that it's high time you start calling me by my name."

The wind howled and I blamed my goosebumps on the harshness of this cruel weather. A much safer choice.

"Oh really, what should I call you? Monkey? Annoying fly in my life?" I looked at him folding my hands in front.

"You can start by calling me yours."
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Riya had crafted her world around her with utmost care and love. Tending each relationship to flourish and protecting them fiercely from every storm. The peace and comfort of her surroundings started becoming murky bit by bit when things started slipping out of her hand and her carefully crafted world fell in front of the man she despised.