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Seven Nights of Hell

Day 3:

The Devil Wears Armani

The meeting went well. Dad had his usual poker face so it was hard to tell if he was pleased or not. But I'm going to take that pat on the back as a gesture of approval.

Well that was enough work for the week. I decided to reward myself with a whole day dedicated to doing absolutely nothing productive.

The front door shut close.

"Hey,"

"Hey," she walked in.

"Where'd you go?" I asked noticing the small baggy in her hands.

"Taco-bell, picked up a Churro for you," she handed me the baggy.

It was warm, probably just fried. Oh how I love the garbage that is fast-food.

"You spent four hours at taco-bell? Kitna khati ho tum yaar, moti ho jaogi."

"Ha-Ha very funny. Actually I watched a movie, you know that new Ranbir Kapoor one, and then had lunch at taco-bell. I don't like Ranbir Kapoor but I like him. You know?"

"Yeah..."

"Really?"

"No, not really..."

She giggled at my boyish tone, "I like him. He's an awesome actor and he's proved it time and time again. But I don't like him."

Well someone is bipolar.

"And no I'm not bipolar," she poured herself a glass of water. Ok that's it, I'm convinced she's a mind reader.

"But wait let me get this straight, your fashion show is in what--5 days--and you have the time to go watch a movie?" I felt the need to go all "dad" on her.

"You can't blame me, my friend wanted to take a break not me," she defended herself.

"If she told you to go jump off a bridge will you?"

"Come on dude, that's the oldest one in the book. And stop going all "dad" on me," she stole the churro from my hands.

"Hey that was mine!"

"I bought it. And you were being annoying." She justified stuffing the whole thing in her mouth heading for the stairs.

Well then.

"Fhoo fhufhd fhwelly..." she tried to say something with her mouth full with MY churro. And this time, it wasn't as unattractive as I'd remembered.

"What?"

"I meant to say," she started swallowing the final bit of MY churro down, "You should really watch the movie, I know it's a rom-com but you'll like it,"

"So you're saying it's some kind of revolutionary rom-com that guys will like?" I raised an eyebrow.

"No... I'm saying that it's a rom-com Swayam Shekhawat will like," she corrected the faulty interpretation.

***

"Don't bother making dinner, I'm eating out today," she called out from her room.

"Alright..." I was going to order take-out anyways but ok. "Where are you going?" I felt obliged to ask since she was new to the town.

"I don't know my fr..." and that's when I zoned out. Because she walked into the kitchen with studded stilettos in her hands, looking...like a women.

"You look hot..." I mumbled out feeling like a dog under some spell.

"Thanks?" she took a second to wonder, "I think?"

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," she ran for the door and I followed up until the hall trying to snap myself out of it.

And that's when I first saw the devil, the devil who wore Armani.

His hand, slithered onto her back and his shameless lips made their way to her cheeks. Gosh that dog! The pulled apart from what he attempted to mask as a friendly embrace and his lustful gaze scanned her from head to toe and then said something that made the poor innocent soul blush. Probably a hollow compliment. My inner Bollywood hero spoke out--Sharon was my guest and therefore my responsibility and I could not let her go out with a shady character like such.

Or... maybe this was just my point of view. Maybe it was just a friendly greet and I was over-analyzing this decent fellow (possible-rapist-in-disguise).

Yeah... I don't think so because right then she caressed his 5 O'Clock shadow before placing a kiss there.

So, I did what any concerned citizen would do at the time. I plastered a smile onto my face and marched over to ground zero.

"Hello Sharon," I 'nonchalantly' placed an arm around her, "Sir," I turned to him. "Would you care to introduce us, Sharon?"

"Oh yeah, Zaid this is Swayam and Swayam this is Zaid,"

"Zaid your..."

"My co-worker/friend. The dude who literally dragged me off of my desk to the movie theatre this afternoon," she giggled to which he rolled his eyes.

DRAGGED HER OFF OF HER DESK. I knew there was something wrong with his character.

"Wait, wait, wait... THIS is Swayam," the devil burst into mechanical laughter. Well I'm happy to know my name is familiar to complete strangers/possible rapists. Thanks Sharon!

"Shut up," She gave him a semi-death stare and bit back her smile before pushing him out.

"Wait um... Sharon can I have a word with you. In private." I stressed the last two words.

"Sure," she turned to that Zaid guy and he nodded heading for his--his BMW!

I swiftly pulled her in and locked the door as if that was going to stop her from going.

"What?" she seemed annoyed.

"First of all, why are you whispering?"

"Oh... yeah," she returned to her normal tone. "So, you were saying?"

And without a second thought, I took her hand in mine and knelt down on one knee.

Hey eyes widened with shock, "Swayam you're scaring me."

"Breathe woman," I turned for the corner where we would dump our shoes.

She let out a long breath and I stood up handing her, her simplistic black flats.

"I'm pretty clueless when it comes to fashion, but I'm pretty sure black 'goes' with everything,"

She stood there for a moment, her eyes fixed on the pair in my hand.

Without uttering a single word, she took the painful stilettos off and effortlessly slipped into the flats and left for the night knowing very well that I was watching from the window behind.

***

I hope you liked it.

-Shweta