14 ~ Kissing Chahat #2
The waiter came. Orders were placed. Coffee arrived.
And the entire time, Chahat refused to look at me.
She was talking to Ishika, her voice bright and cheerful, but I could see the tension in her shoulders.
She knows I'm watching.
Ayaan was looking at Ishika mischievously, his eyes glinting with that familiar, playful glint.
Ishika blushed. "Kya hai?" she asked, swatting his arm.
(What?)
"Kuch nahi," Ayaan said, his voice dripping with innocence.
(Nothing.)
Ishika's blush deepened. "Behave yourself!"
He laughed, but he didn't stop looking at her.
Suddenly, he stood up.
"Chalo," he said, pulling Ishika's hand. "Hum log thodi der mein aa rahe hain."
(Let's go. We'll be back in a little bit.)
Ishika's eyes widened. "Kya? kahan?"
(What? Where?)
"Chalo na," he insisted, his voice low and suggestive. "Bas thodi der."
(Come on. Just a little while.)
She opened her mouth to protest, but Ayaan was already dragging her away.
"Chahat!" Ishika called over her shoulder. "Hum log bas thodi der mein aa rahe hain, okay?"
(We'll be back in just a little while, okay?)
Chahat's eyes were wide with panic. She shook her head frantically, her hands raised in a desperate attempt to stop them.
"Ishika!"
But Ishika was already gone.
Ayaan had dragged her around the corner, and they disappeared from sight, leaving me alone with the woman who was driving me insane.
Silence stretched between us, heavy and uncomfortable.
My eyes shifted to her. She wasn't looking at me.
Her arms crossed lightly over her chest, her posture stiff, like she was already preparing to leave, to escape like always.
A faint smirk tugged at my lips.
Typical Chahat.
Suddenly her phone began to ring.
She picked up the call almost immediately, like she had been expecting it.
"Hello, mumma..." her voice dropped a little, controlled, and careful. "Haan, main Ishika ke saath hoon... thodi der mein aa jaungi," she said quickly.
(Yes, Mom... I'm with Ishika... I'll be home in a little while.)
There was a pause.
Her expression shifted.
Brows pulling together, lips pressing tight.
"Mumma, relax...Ek ghante mein aajaungi."
(I'll be home in an hour.)
She hung up.
Her eyes searched the cafe instantly.
Looking for Ishika to come back.
Of course.
I leaned back slightly, watching her without making it obvious.
Her fingers tapped lightly against her phone.
She checked the time again and again.
Ten minutes passed then fifteen. The weather outside shifted without warning.
Dark clouds, wind picking up and then it started raining heavily.
The glass windows blurred with water as droplets started racing down.
She cursed under her breath.
Her phone rang again.
She answered instantly this time.
"Bas thodi der mein nikal rahi hoon..."
(I'm leaving in just a little while.)
Her shoulders tensed.
"Mujhe pata hai baarish ho rahi hai lekin aap fikar mat karo main aa jaungi."
(I know it's raining, but don't worry. I'll come home.)
She exhaling sharply.
"Time dekha hai kya hua hai. Itni raat tak bahar nahi rehna chahiye tumhe. kitni baar bola hai..." I could hear her mother's faint voice.
(Do you know what time it is? You shouldn't stay outside at night. How many time have I told you?)
She clenched her jaw, irritation clearly visible now.
"Mumma..."
Before she could say anything more I took her phone.
She froze and before she could react, I said.
"Namaste, Maa." My voice was smooth and composed. "Main Kartik bol raha hoon."
(Hello mother. This is Kartik speaking.)
There was a brief pause on the other end. Then:
"Kartik? Beta tum Chahat ke saath ho?"
(Kartik? You're with Chahat?)
"Haan." I glanced at Chahat, who was staring at me with a mixture of horror and fury. "Hum raaste mein mile. Bahut tez baarish ho rahi hai, isliye maine socha ki use ghar chhod doon."
(We met on the way. It's raining very heavily, so I thought I'd drop her home.)
While speaking I couldn't help but cup her cheek.
Her skin was soft beneath my palm. Flushed with anger and something else...something that made my pulse quicken.
My thumb traced a gentle arc across her cheekbone, caressing the delicate curve of her face.
She looked irritated as she pushed my hand away.
I smirked.
She's beautiful when she's angry.
"Aap...aap use ghar chhod denge?"
(You'll drop her home?)
"Bilkul." My eyes never left Chahat's face. "Main use safe ghar pahuncha dunga. Aap fikar mat karo."
(Of course. I'll make sure she reaches home safely. Don't worry.)
Chahat's eyes were blazing now.
I ignored her.
"Thank you, Kartik beta." Her mother's voice was warm with relief.
"No issue."
I hung up and handed her phone back.
Her fingers curled around it protectively, and she glared at me with those beautiful, furious eyes.
"Kya tha yeh?"
(What was that?)
"Phone," I said simply.
"Mujhe pata hai phone tha!" She leaned forward, her voice rising. "Main punch rahi hoon ki aapne mumma ko kyun bola ki aap mujhe ghar chhodenge?"
(I know it was a phone! And why did you tell my mother you'd drop me home?)
"Kyunki main kar sakta hoon," I said, my voice calm. "Aur kyunki main karunga."
(Because I can. And because I will.)
"I'll take a cab," she shot back immediately. "You don't have to..."
"You're not taking a cab," I cut her off, my tone firm.
Her eyes flashed.
"I didn't ask you to..."
Before she could finish the sentence, I reached out and grabbed her chair.
I pulled it closer.
Her eyes widened. Her breath caught. Her entire body went still as I dragged her chair toward me until there was barely any space between us.
She was frozen. Her chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths. Her lips parted slightly, and I could see the rapid pulse in her throat.
"I..." she started, but the words died in her throat.
I can now feel the warmth of her body, just inches away. The faint scent of her perfume...something floral, something sweet. I leaned closer and her shoulder brushed against mine.
My entire body went taut so does hers.
"Kartik..." She looked at me and shifted slightly.
I felt the movement...the subtle shift of her body, the way she leaned forward like she was about to stand up.
No. Not yet.
My hand moved before I could stop it.
I placed my palm on her thigh.
She froze.
Her breath hitched sharply. Her entire body went still, like she'd been turned to stone.
I felt her thigh beneath my palm through the denim of her jeans. I could feel the muscle tensing beneath my touch, could feel the heat of her skin seeping through the fabric.
Her breath caught, and I saw her chest rise and fall with a deep, shuddering inhale.
"Ye aap kya kar rahe hain..."
(What are you doing...)
I looked at her and I smirked.
"Kya kar raha hoon?" I repeated slowly.
(What am I doing?)
She looked at me and I could feel the tension in her body.
Her face was so beautiful. The curve of her cheek, the fullness of her lips, the way her eyes seemed to hold entire galaxies.
Her curves...those perfect, impossible curves were driving me insane. The way her breasts pressed against the thin fabric of her crop top. The way her body seemed designed to drive men to madness.
She doesn't know what she does to me.
Without a word. Without a glance in my direction. Without any explanation at all. She just stood up and started walking.
I watched her go, my eyes tracing the curve of her hips in those faded jeans, the sway of her hair as she moved. She walked quickly, almost urgently, like she was trying to escape.
She's running. She's trying to get away from me. The thought made something dark curl in my chest.
I couldn't help but follow her
The hallway was narrow, dimly lit. The washroom door was at the end, and I could see her slipping inside just as I turned the corner.
I walked slowly, deliberately, my footsteps silent on the tiled floor. The door was still slightly ajar. she hadn't locked it yet.
I pushed the door open.
She was standing at the sink, her hands gripping the edge of the counter, her head bowed. Her shoulders were trembling slightly, and I could hear her breathing.
She was trying to calm herself down.
I stepped inside and I locked the door behind me.
The click of the lock echoed in the small space.
Her head snapped up. Her eyes met mine in the mirror, wide and panicked.
"Kartik..."
But I was already moving.
Crossing the space between us in three quick strides. Grabbing her by the shoulders. Spinning her around and pressing her against the cold tile wall.
Her breath left her in a sharp gasp. Her hands came up to my chest, pushing against me, but there was no strength in it. No real resistance.
"Ye kya..."
(What are you...)
"Ssshhh Chahat." I cupped her cheeks
She clenched her eyes closed. "Kartik...aap bohot galat kar rahe hain."
(Kartik... you are doing something very wrong.)
"Do you think I care..." I traced my fingers on her lower lip.
The words came out rough, almost a growl. I was done pretending. Done holding back. Done watching her from across the room and pretending I didn't want to devour her.
"Kartik, please..."
"I can't," I said, my voice low and intense. "Tum jaanti ho na? Tum jaanti ho ki main kitna pagal ho raha hoon tumhare liye?" I rested my forehead against hers.
(You know that, don't you? You know how crazy I'm going for you?)
Her breath hitched, her lips parted slightly.
My hand came up to her neck. My fingers wrapping around the delicate column of her throat, my thumb resting against her pulse point.
She gasped.