I logged on today for the first time in a long, long while, and found out that I had missed Rasgulla_sp's birthday.
This is the result of that discovery.
I am SO SO SO SO sorry. I can't believe I missed it! Happy belated birthday!! I know this was thrown together really quickly and probably isn't the best or the most well thought out piece I've ever come up with, but I promised you a sequel to "Only Playing"...so here it is. I hope it brings a smile to your face, at least :)
Notes: AU. Sequel to |Only Playing| (link below).
http://www.india-forums.com/forum_posts.asp?TID=3939213
ArHi OneShot |Not Playing|
"This is getting a bit tedious now."
Khushi managed to swallow her gasp down in the nick of time, but that only led to a brief interlude of her suffocating on her breath. Struggling to refrain her own flailing limbs, she succeeded in keeping still enough to prevent giving away her current location.
Which happened to be inside a closet.
Able to distinguish only a few grey silhouettes in the darkness, and shrouded in the peculiar scent of mothballs mingling with fabric softener, Khushi inhaled as slowly and quietly as she could before holding in another pocket of air to last a few more seconds.
She agreed with him.
This was getting tedious.
But what was she supposed to do? There was no way she was going to burst out of the closet now, with the definite knowledge that he was only a few feet away. Of the two of them, she was the level-headed one- the sensible, rational, calm child who was perpetually quirking an eyebrow at her companion's questionable antics.
Was one such antic really worth throwing their childhood equation off-kilter?
A sudden wave of exhaustion and dismay hit her, so heavy it almost dragged her down to her knees in the cramped little closet.
What was she even doing in here? She had been waiting for Aarav to return after asking his mother for permission to let her take him to the park, but then-
Another involuntary shudder raked through her and Khushi groaned into the material of her sweater, conscious of the uncomfortable heat coiling about her and most likely originating from her own skin.
She had heard footfalls approaching, and only a few brainwaves were needed to establish that they were too heavy and too loud to belong to a child, and if they did not belong to a child, then there was a chance that it might be-
That thought had not even needed to complete itself. Barely comprehending her own actions, Khushi had bounced to her feet and bolted, burrowing into the nearest hiding place she could find, and had spent at least the past five minutes furiously questioning herself about what it was that she was doing- why on earth she was acting so childishly.
When the footsteps were accompanied by a too-familiar voice calling her name though, she banished all self-reproach from her head.
Because hiding in a child's closet was much more preferable than facing him...
Especially after what he had done the last time.
Khushi's face flamed at the memory, and traitorously, her lips began to tingle, her skin began to itch, and she was overcome with a confusing urge to break something solid or bang her head in it-
Only for the closet door to fly open.
Light spilled into the tiny space, and Khushi blinked as it overtaxed her pupils, but even the sting of it was nowhere near as painful as the mortification suddenly slitting her heart apart.
"Well, well, well," drawled a voice Khushi would have been much happier not having to deal with, "What have we here?"
Pulse thumping furiously and pumping hot blood into her head, Khushi managed to stammer, not quite making eye-contact as she hissed, "I'm playing hide-and-seek with Aarav. Go away."
It was not a shoddy excuse, Khushi shakily congratulated herself- it was perfectly legitimate considering she and Aarav were constant partners-in-play.
But he did not budge and Khushi was having trouble breathing, so she made to grab the door the insufferable dolt was holding open in a bid to tuck herself back into the darkness again.
This, it transpired, was a hopelessly miscalculated move.
He caught her wrist, and yanked her out.
"Hey!" Khushi screeched angrily, yanking her hand free as she stumbled out of her sanctuary; she glowered at the culprit, inwardly hoping that the bright red she was sure her cheeks had turned could be passed off as fury instead of embarrassment.
To her consternation, Arnav appeared thoroughly unaffected; he merely stood there with his hands tucked into his pockets, his stance casual and tipped slightly to one side- a habit, Khushi had realised over the span of the time they'd known each other, he tended to adopt when with her, as though to cut down a little of the height separating the two of them.
He said nothing, but continued to regard her with that disconcerting look on his face- a look somewhere between amused and intrigued.
"What was that for?" Khushi demanded, trying not to flinch at the high-pitched note her words broke off into, "I told you that I was playing with-"
"He went out."
Khushi found herself blinking again, stopped short in bewilderment.
"What?" she said dumbly.
Arnav retrieved his hands from his pockets, and something about the gesture, normal as it was, set off alarm bells in Khushi's head; the muscles of her body coiled like a spring ready to pop, but instead of scurrying backwards as her instincts bade her, she tried to casually retreat a step backwards.
"Mum took him out," Arnav elaborated, and Khushi narrowed her eyes, wondering if she had lost her mind to paranoia or whether there really was a hint of wickedness gleaming in his eye as he spoke, "To the park."
Khushi was not a dramatic person, and nor was she fanciful- but in that instant she could practically feel the ground beneath her feet cave, and for a split second her vision was swallowed into an endless stretch of black rushing past as she plummeted down into the hole fate had decided to dig out for her.
She was pretty sure her disappointment- to put it mildly- showed on her face. Her mouth had gone slack, her pallor whitening a little as she realised her wingman (in other words the five year old boy of her neighbours and family friends, and the person who had become her escape-route lately) had gone off and left her behind.
With the enemy.
Who happened to be her best friend.
Who happened to be watching her with keen attentiveness.
Who happened to have a thoroughly unnerving expression on his face...
...as though he knew what she was thinking.
The thought disturbed her so much, her entire frame shook as she attempted to cast it off.
"Ah," she wheezed, running a quick palm over her forehead and noting numbly that it was covered with a light sheen of sweat, "al-alright then...I'll just go home...please tell Aunty that-"
She had been edging past him on unsteady limbs, willing herself not to break into a trot and wondering whether she was even capable of it, when her movements were impeded.
Once again, Khushi found her wide eyes sweeping toward the person who had cuffed a firm hand about her wrist.
Butterflies erupted into her stomach, and their wings seemed to be made of flames- every beat was accompanied by a burst of heat, followed by ticklish burning.
This is ridiculous, Khushi seethed in silence, while outwardly she fought not to cower. It was not as though this was the first time he had touched her- they had been friends since they were children, they had played tag together, and hide-and-seek, and in the innocence of their youth held hands when running toward the ice-cream van or scanning through toy-store shelves.
And she had thought nothing had changed- that nothing could change, and nothing would. They might have grown up into first-year university students, but the fundamentals of their relationship had to be immutable- the balance had to be permanent.
But in that one instant that late afternoon, when she had been playing with Aarav in much the same fashion as she had hoped to convince Arnav she'd been today, he had pulled a trick she had never thought he would, and it had changed everything.
And since then, she had been caught in a vicious cycle she could never have foreseen.
And what troubled, what outright distressed her, was that she was not concerned for the reasons she would expect herself to be concerned.
She was not concerned that he had come home early that afternoon to surprise her.
She was not concerned that he had pinned her to a wall while she was blindfolded to do so.
Heck, she was not even concerned he had fed her chocolate with his mouth.
What she was concerned about, though, was the fact that she did not know why he had done what he did.
She did not know whether this was yet another entry in this boy's burgeoning list of ways to annoy or startle or antagonise her-
Or whether it stemmed from something more. Something deeper.
And what tore her apart, what plagued her, was that she did not know which alternative she wanted it to be.
They ping-ponged her back and forth, and left her nerves fried and her mind numb, and her heart aching and overheated, and though days and days had passed since the event had taken place, she was still stuck in that loop of not knowing.
Not knowing what his actions had meant, and not knowing what these sensations embedding themselves steadily into her system entailed.
And it was terrifying.
So terrifying that she could feel a chill envelope her as her limp frame was steered round to face him.
"Aunty told me to thank you, actually," Khushi briefly speculated whether her ears were playing tricks on her, because he sounded as though he were purring. Caught between staring at Aarav's stuffed toys littering the floor and searching his face for clues to make this situation a little less unpredictable, Khushi thought she had glimpsed a hint of mischief in his features, "For helping me out."
Her hand still caught, her brain ricocheting half-baked thoughts in its attempts to resurface from its panic, Khushi parroted back, "Helping you out?"
Arnav nodded, and Khushi was certain she saw him smile- or rather grin, before he continued, "With my studies. Tutoring."
A few seconds elapsed, and Khushi could swear she heard each of them with the loud certainty of a clock's ticking.
"Arnav," she started slowly, glad that her tenor was at least stable this time, "You're studying architecture."
This time a grin did unfurl at the edge of his mouth, and Khushi's heart began to palpitate.
In a desperate bid to ignore it, Khushi hurried on, "I'm studying bioscience."
When his grin stretched wider, crooked and inching higher up one cheek than the other, Khushi was overcome by a dangerous bout of lightheaded-ness. Was her blood sugar falling or something?
"I know."
And then her wariness bristled and her nerves were on edge because he had just purred at her again, and the smugness was quickly brimming over the facade of nonchalance he had been wearing before.
"Arnav," Khushi bit out stiffly, eyeing him suspiciously, "What the heck am I supposed to be teaching you?"
He shrugged then, and took a fluid step towards her; before she could scramble backwards though, he had relinquished his hold on her wrist in favour of lacing their fingers together, and all of Khushi's knowledge about speech and its usage had self-combusted.
"I don't know," he replied smoothly, while Khushi tried not to have a seizure on the spot, "Maybe you could explain to me why you've been avoiding me these past few days?"
Where her heart had been forging ahead just moments ago, now it jammed itself in place and stood stock still.
"What're you talking about," Khushi muttered, not even conscious of the words suddenly streaming out of her mouth without her consent, rushed and erratic, "I'm not avoiding you."
"No? You don't read my texts until the next day, you don't open my Facebook messages, you don't pick up my calls-"
"I'm busy! With work and studies and-"
"And yet you have time to hide in closets and play with a five-year old?"
"You sound like an attention seeking child-"
"I might as well, because apparently I have to be one to get you to talk to me-"
"Look, Arnav, this is a really petty discussion to have...please don't tell me you're going to fight with me because I'm not stalking you on social media..."
"Is it a petty discussion to have when you've been ignoring me?"
"I have not been ignoring you, I just-"
"You just-?"
"I- I just got busy, that's all!"
"Ah, Khushi," Arnav breathed out, and it was then that Khushi, jittery and frazzled, realised how close he was to her- she could see the upturn of his mouth as he smiled and shook his head, but she could also see the dips in that smile that made it humourless, "I think I shot down that argument of yours already."
She bit her lip, the need for words burning her throat like the need for water to battle thirst. But what was she supposed to say? How was she supposed to explain her actions when she herself was so confounded over them? She did not know why she kept stalling on reading his messages, or turning down all his offers for coffee or for a walk or a movie- she did not know what made her dawdle indoors until she had seen him leave his house and disappear round the corner.
All she did know was that there was a strange, constricting ache in her chest whenever she thought of him now, and there were fire-breathing butterflies residing in her stomach, and that she was afraid that if she made a wrong move, everything would implode and crush her heart.
"Maybe I just prefer Aarav's company over yours," she quipped lightly, hoping he would accept it, and then questioning why he shouldn't- they exchanged this kind of banter all the time, insulted one another all the time. There had to be no dearth of names she had already called him, no lack of occasions he had exploited to tease her...
...when had something that had once been so natural morph into something so much like a gamble?
He chuckled, and Khushi was startled when her heart sank.
Perhaps she was the one overthinking it.
Perhaps she was the one who had misinterpreted one of his idiotic pranks as something else.
Perhaps all of this...had been for nothing.
Perhaps nothing had changed.
Then...shouldn't she be relieved?
If he was not standing there, watching her, knowing her better than most people did, she might have broken down into tears upon realising that she wasn't relieved at all.
"So, what is it?" Khushi mumbled, bending her head and tugging at some loose strands of her sweater in a poor attempt to shield her face, "What exactly did you hope to achieve from this?"
Then, with the stupidity of her actions accumulating like deadweight over her shoulders, she added swiftly, in an attempt at normalcy, "If you're expecting an apology you have another thing coming."
"Oh, no," he sounded mock offended, as though disappointed in her for actually suggesting such a thing, "I know well enough to know that. I was hoping, though, that you would explain what's wrong."
Why do you notice these things, Arnav?
"Nothing is wrong," she stressed valiantly, forcing herself to look up at him and match his stare with her own, "I don't know what you're talking about."
A pause followed, and neither spoke- after a while, Khushi could not bear to hold eye contact anymore and averted her gaze.
"You're always doing that," he accused softly.
It was so unexpected Khushi inadvertently glanced at him again. Before she could ask him what he was talking about though, he had already resumed, "You're always overthinking things."
She could not help it; she panicked.
"What are you talking about?" she shot out sharply, the twanging inside her ribs getting louder and more forceful. He was good at reading her but was she that transparent that he-?
"You're still caught up with the chocolate incident from the other day, aren't you?"
If the blow had not been so massive, Khushi might have found herself denying it instantly. But right then, any defences she might have had chances of using, any leeway she might have used to compartmentalise the anomalies of their relationship and her thoughts and her feelings, and pretending they had never occurred, were snatched away from her, and she was at a loss.
She did not know what to do.
But he continued anyway.
"Honestly, Khushi," he chided her, and Khushi listened with a heavy heart growing heavier to the rhythmic notes of his voice, familiar and friendly and spiked with hidden amusement, anticipating his words because if he knew her, then she knew him as well- anticipating his droll "It was just a joke", "Relax, for heaven's sake" and finally, "I apologise, OK?".
"We haven't even kissed yet and you're overthinking it already?"
The cacophony in her head resembled an entire shelf of glassware crashing into the ground.
Her head shot up so quickly she cricked her neck, and a quizzical squeak burst its way out of her mouth as she felt her eyes go impossibly round-
But she could not formulate thoughts, let alone words, because he was smiling at her.
Not grinning, not sneering, not chuckling.
Smiling.
She felt a little dazed.
"E-excuse me?" she managed to choke, many milliseconds of soundless spluttering later.
Arnav retaliated by repeating his death-blow again.
"I am telling you that it wasn't even a proper kiss, and yet you're overthinking it to tears."
Aware that her mouth was opening and closing in mimicry of a goldfish, Khushi finally managed to string a coherent sentence together.
"What are you talking about?" she squeaked unimaginatively yet again; her brain was a hopeless jumble of bafflement and the highly flammable butterflies were not helping- she could feel her body temperature cranking up, steaming up her thoughts before they could form, "It was just chocolate, right?"
Innately, she knew she was being an idiot, but then again nothing she had done so far had been particularly intelligent either.
"Yeah," Arnav answered, and that one word was packed with so much sardonic punch that Khushi had to conclude she had rubbed off on him, "That's all it was. Chocolate." He paused, and then smirked wickedly at her. "That I fed you with my mouth."
A mousey squeak sounded, and Khushi was mortified to realise it had come from her own lips.
Taking advantage of her speechlessness, Arnav zoomed in until his eyes were level with hers.
"I wonder what you would do if I skipped the chocolate altogether?"
Then, he proceeded to find out.
I hope that wasn't too abrupt (it probably was T.T ) But it was pretty clear what he was doing though, right? ;)
I reserve all rights over this work of fiction and request readers do not reproduce/copy/modify it elsewhere and/or claim credit.
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