ArHi FF || Serendipity #2 || Link to Thread 3: Pg 1 - Page 44

When Khushi's eyes finally fluttered open, the glare of fluorescent tube lights painfully blinded her. Almost instantly, she shut them close again... caught off-guard by the brightness. She cringed as colorful balls of light danced behind the black of her closed lids, unfamiliar and uncooperative. Blinking, struggling against eyes that were resilient to opening, she attempted to place and adjust to her surroundings.

It was a psychiatrist's clinic. Clean and polished, painted warm hues of red and brown, and smelling distinctly of strong, black coffee. Her luggage was propped against the far corner of the room, a small bottle of water and sliced apples resting on the table beside her makeshift bed. Months ago, the idea of finding herself within an unfamiliar room with no recollection of how she got there would have terrified Khushi Kumari Gupta. But today, the broken, battered and lifeless rendition was more than pleased in simply finding a temporary refuge from Arnav and Chetan, unperturbed about the circumstances of who had brought her there.

As she tried to sit up straight and swallow, Khushi recognized how parched and dehydrated she had become. Breaking the seal of the water bottle, she lifted it hurriedly to her lips, chugging till the plastic was left empty and dented by her grip. She was reaching over for the plate of apples when a cheerful voice abruptly caught her off guard... and she recoiled as though the fruit had singed her.

"If you're hungry, we can get you something else to eat. Those poor apples have gone stale waiting for sleeping beauty to wake up"

He was a tall man, lean, brawny and built, with hands that were large and coarse and hair that was overgrown at the nape. The angles of his face were gaunt and sharp, his horn-rimmed reading glasses persistently slipping down his pointed nose. But his wide smile was undeniably kind, and it softened his features.

And then there were those dark, deep eyes.

Khushi gasped as she recognized them, the events of last night storming back to her memory... how she had fainted on the abandoned road as those black eyes were approaching her. He had brought her here, had given her a place to rest. For how long had she been asleep?

"You may have guessed after seeing this horribly cliched leather recliner that I am indeed a psychiatrist. But alas, even I had to go through the endless pains of medical school. I hope you don't mind that I treated you."

The doctor reached over to place the back of his hand on her forehead and Khushi violently flinched away from him, petrified by the idea of being touched by a man. Taken by surprise, he awkwardly withdrew his arm back, the soft smile only hesitating for a brief moment. His intention had not been to scare this woman.

"I'm sorry, Miss. I was just checking to see if you're still running a fever".

He reached down to shuffle through disorganized drawers and offered her a thermometer instead, placing it on top of the small table so she could check her temperature by herself.

"Waise. if the framed degree on the wall didn't prove it, then I hope that at least this crappy thermometer and my very authentic looking prescription pad may convince you that we loony psychiatrists are indeed graduates of medical school. Most just take us to be overhyped and overpaid therapists"

Khushi weakly nodded at his attempt to uplift her mood, focusing instead on the steady beeping of the thermometer she had placed inside her mouth. Nervous, she timidly passed it to the man sitting beside her, unable to restrain the shudder as her fingers brushed against his own. Something must be seriously wrong with her mental health, he pondered, shifting his seat a little farther away at her blatant anxiety.

"You had fainted from exhaustion and dehydration last night Miss, and were running quite a high fever. But it's down to 99.2 now"

Another feeble nod of the head.

This particular doctor was not an innately persistent man, but something about this woman and her beautiful yet wounded eyes struck through his impressionable heart. He felt this irresistible and unjustified need to know what or who had hurt her... and perhaps even try to fix it.

For his own sanity.

"Well. Considering that you are inside my office and eating my apples, introductions need to be in place. My name is Dr. Tarang Lal Kher, and I am a man who strives to live up to the horrid weight of his name ", he chuckled good humoredly as he extended his hand for her to shake. Discomfort hung in the air as she stared determinedly at her intertwined fingers resting upon her lap. She refused to return his gesture or look up to meet his eyes, halfheartedly folding her hands in greeting instead.

"Khushi"

Tarang Kher felt a current sprint through his spine at hearing her speak, the small hairs on his arms standing to attention at once. No. Not because her voice was sweet, pleasing and melodic... but because it had the potential to be. What he was hearing now was the whisper of a lifeless spirit, the pitiful remnants of what must have once been a woman who aspired to love and live. He cursed whatever had caused her so much pain and wounded her so severely, suddenly unwilling to uplift the tense atmosphere of the room when his own heart was aching to see her wither away.

As a psychiatrist, he had heard the firsthand accounts of lives that were shattered and destroyed, some people even more broken than the woman sitting beside him. But there was something about this young girl, Khushi. Her unfeeling voice, her sunken eyes, her trembling hands, the signs of malnourishment or maybe the small mole on her cheek that resembled his deceased mother's. Tarang found himself wanting to extend a hand of friendship and support to this mysterious woman. To relieve her of, or at least share, a bit of the pain.

But what could a lone stranger who had just happened to be returning from a patient's emergency late yesterday night do? A stranger who just happened to see a lonely woman tumbling to the ground? What could he offer to a woman who was probably someone else's daughter, sister, wife or mother? Who had other people to care for her wellbeing?

"Let me call your family, Khushi", he murmured. "They must be worried about you."

"I have no one, Tarang Ji. Nowhere to go."

With great difficulty, Khushi gently lifted herself off the recliner and mumbled a soft thank you to the man who had helped her... walking towards her luggage and mentally calculating the expenses required for a trip to Pune. She was shuffling and straightening out the small roll of bills in her handbag when his voice stopped her -- pleading, desperate and concerned.

"I have a business proposition for you, Khushi. There's no pressure, just hear me out. We'll talk over lunch"

She turned to look calmly into those black, hopeful eyes as Arnav's taunts rose to the surface.

"I may be a wh*re Tarang Ji, but I really don't want to sleep around for business."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~