Chapter 16
PRASHANT
THREE YEARS AGO
Just before our upcoming leave, my soldier friends and I planned a short trip to Dehradun, a breather before we scattered to different corners of the country.
Ira was coming too. No one knew about us, about the nights we spent together behind closed doors, about the secret I carried like a loaded gun.
She wasn't mine to hold. She belonged to Aryan Rathore, her boyfriend, who was a senior officer posted in Jammu and Kashmir.
To her, I was just a timepass. A body to satisfy her desires. A means to feed her cravings. She didn't want anything beyond the physical with me. I knew she was using me, and yet she meant everything to me. She meant my world to me.
I had never felt this kind of connection with anyone else not even Avni. Avni Parmar, my best friend since childhood. We were close, once inseparable, but we fell apart before we even understood what love really meant.
But Ira, I loved Ira with all my heart, with every breath, and with all my time.
I loved her like there was no tomorrow. Like she was the last woman left in the world.
I loved her with a madness I couldn't tame.
It hurt, knowing she had a boyfriend but still, somewhere deep down, there was hope.
Hope that one day she would give us a chance.
That she would break up with her boyfriend for me.
I gently put my hand on Ira's thigh, but she softly brushed it away.
"I told you...no touching in public," she said playfully, throwing me a side glance.
I looked around the bus. No one was paying attention to us. Everyone was lost in the excitement of the journey as they were singing, dancing, and laughing.
"I'm sorry," I muttered and withdrew my hand, resting it on my own thigh instead.
I turned to her, drinking in her features.
She had the face of a model, she had sharp cheekbones, pouty lips, and eyes that could undo me in seconds.
Her thick, straight hair fell in perfect waves, and I constantly fought the urge to run my fingers through it.
I didn't just like her body but also I liked her soul.
There wasn't a single part of her I didn't crave.
"Stop staring at me like an idiot," she said softly, eyes fixed on the window.
"I'm just admiring you," I coaxed, offering a smile. "Can't I?"
"You can admire me within four walls," she giggled, leaning slightly toward me. "Not in public, Prashant. I'll be in serious trouble if people find out we're..." She glanced around, then whispered, "...sleeping together. You know what I mean? I have a boyfriend."
"I know," I replied, jaw tightening as I turned away from her.
I didn't argue. I stood up and moved to sit beside my friend Arish instead. Ira slipped in her earphones, looking far more relaxed now that she was alone.
She turned her face back toward the window, listening to her favorite music.
And I just watched her from a distance hurting, hoping, and loving her in silence.
I had a lot of fun hiking with my batchmates, chanting army slogans through the tall pine forests, our voices echoing through the valleys as if we owned the world.
We climbed up to George Everest and soaked in the golden light that spread across the hills.
Ira walked ahead of me most of the time, her laughter clearly audible as she joked with others. She never looked back at me once.
In the evening, we lit a bonfire near our campsite.
Everyone huddled close to each other and sang songs, some tuneless and loud, others quiet and nostalgic.
I sat a little apart, drinking a bottle of beer, the orange glow of the fire falling on Ira's face, when she leaned close to one of the girls, whispering something that made them both laugh.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
I looked at the moon through the tent flap and wondered how close it was just a few feet away, yet how far away from the galaxies. I didn't know why I let myself fall so in love with her. Maybe it was because when she kissed me, even if only to fulfill her own desire, I felt it was sacred to me.
The next morning, we went to Robbers Cave. Everyone shrieked as the cold dipped their feet into the icy waterfall. Ira pulled her jeans up to her knees and walked in gracefully and unconcernedly. I stood from a distance, watching her. She didn't call me to join her. She didn't even look at me.
Later, when we went to the Mindrolling Monastery, I saw her kneeling silently and folding her hands in front of the huge Buddha statue.
There was something in that moment that broke me.
I had seen her bold, brazen, playful but never quiet.
Not like that. I wondered if she was praying for Aryan Rathore.
I wondered if she was apologising for loving two people, or for pretending she didn't love me at all.
On the last day, when we were all packing up, she came up to me. Her expression was neutral, and unreadable.
"Prashant," she said in a soft voice, "you knew what it was. Don't make it any more."
I laughed out loud, trying to hide the closing up of my throat. "Yes. I just forgot."
She nodded. "I had no intention of hurting you."
"You did," I said softly.
"Prashant..." Ira whispered.
The world shrank as I drew closer to Ira, so close that I could smell the faint scent of her warm and fruity perfume.
The tent was dark, only the faint light of the moon coming in through a small hole.
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
My gaze fell on her lips, and then her eyes flickered to mine, and that was all the permission I needed.
I leaned in slowly, deliberately, watching for any sign of hesitation. There was none. Ira's breath hitched, her chest heaved gently as she tilted her head slightly.
Our lips met in a soft, hesitant pressure as there was no hunger, just warmth.
I closed my eyes, as if a dimmer switch had been pulled, amplifying every sensation.
Her lips were warm and impossibly soft beneath mine.
I let the moment drag on, riding it out with maddening patience, then drew back to just a breath away.
The space between us was throbbing.
Ira let out a soft sigh, her lips parting in quiet invitation.
I moved again, this time deeper, with more intention.
Our mouths opened slightly, mimicking each other.
My tongue flicked softly along the curve of her lower lip, probing.
She responded in kind, her own tongue brushing against mine with a feather-light touch.
A gasp came out of her throat, and I felt it more than heard it, like a spark ignited in my chest.
Our rhythm found itself unhurried, and deliciously slow.
One of my hands moved up to caress the back of her neck, my fingers curling into the silky strands of her hair.
The other rested on her waist, linking her to me.
Ira's hands, shaking but sure, wrapped around my shirt, pulling me closer until our bodies were pressed against each other.
She tilted her head further, deepening the kiss, tasting me fully.
She moaned softly against my mouth when my fingers moved up to hold her face, my thumbs rubbing over her jaw.
I placed my lips at the corner of her mouth, tracing a hot path along her cheek, up to the soft curve of her jaw.
Then down. Her pulse began to flutter under my mouth when I kissed the spot just below her ear, then the sensitive line of her neck.
She tilted her head back with a soft sigh, and my teeth grazed her skin with a playful bite.
"You're so beautiful, Ira," I murmured against her throat.
"I know," she replied breathlessly.
I paused at her breasts, looking at her for permission but she grabbed the back of my head and thrust them into my face, breath ragged with need.
"Wow," I murmured with a grin, yanking off her T-shirt and revealing the black, lacy bra she wore underneath.
Her nipples were tight, already aching for my mouth.
I cupped one of her breasts, pulled it free, and took it into my mouth.
I kissed, sucked, and worshipped them like they were something holy.
My jeans grew impossibly tighter as the heat between us deepened.
"God, Prashant... please," Ira moaned, her voice cracking with desperation. "Don't torture me."
She yanked me up for another kiss, urgent and needy. My hand slipped inside her denim, and I groaned into her mouth as I felt her warm, wet, and throbbing against my palm.
Without breaking the kiss, we stumbled toward the mattress, limbs tangled.
Ira kicked off her jeans, and I fumbled out of my clothes, heart pounding, skin burning.
I kissed her breasts again, then trailed down to her stomach, her thighs, and even her toes worshipping every inch of her like she was mine to memorize.
She moaned, her fingers tightening in my hair when my mouth drove her to the edge.
"I'm entering you," I whispered, hovering above her, breathless. She dug her nails into my shoulders and bit down on her lower lip, nodding.
I could feel her slick folds against my hardness, and when I finally pushed into her, slow, deep, my breath caught. She gasped sharply, her body jerking beneath me, then melting around me as I filled her completely.
"Oh God!" she breathed, her eyes locking onto mine. "I like it."
I captured her mouth again, thrusting into her slowly. Her hips lifted to meet me, her body clinging to mine with every movement. Ira scratched down my back with her nails when the pleasure became too much, and her moans grew louder with every stroke.
We made love that night like the world didn't exist beyond that tent.
It wasn't just about our bodies, it felt like our souls collided.
She was the only woman I'd ever been with, and even if I lived a hundred lifetimes, she would always be the one.
The one I didn't just touch I felt. It was deep, raw, and real.
She passed out in my arms after hours of lovemaking. Her bare body curled against mine, soft and warm. It was our last night of the trip, and we'd be leaving in the morning. I watched her as she slept peacefully beside me.
Quietly, I reached for her clothes and helped dress her, then pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.
And for the rest of the night, I just stared at her, committing every curve, every breath, every part of her to my memory.
That trip to Dehradun was the best and worst time of my life. I returned with a smile on my face and a hole in my chest. Everyone said I looked sallow and restless. They didn't know that I had left pieces of myself somewhere among the trees of Mussoorie and the silence of that monastery.
And I still couldn't stop loving her. I didn't tell her how much I love her.
Even when I tried.
Even now. One day I would tell her how much I love her.
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