IshKara/ShivIka/RuMya FF: THE GAME (Sequel to Promises)- Ch 2- Page 3 - Page 2

"So tell me, why did you and Riddhiculous break up?"

"Kindly refrain from coining ludicrous nicknames for my ex-girlfriend."

"How about the fact that she's such a fail she gave you Pulmonary Riddhoema?"

Omkara snorted. "Stop it."

"Fine. But only if you tell me."

"She replaced my pillows."

"Huh?"

"With flowery pink ones."

"Huh?"

"They were fluorescent."

"Were the old ones lumpy?"

"No. Oberois don't sleep on lumpy pillows."

Ishana rolled her eyes and held her hand up to her eyes and looked around, as though scouting for something. "Shivaay? Shivaay Singh Oberoi? Is that you and your infinite snobbery I hear?"

"Shut up, Ishana."

She grinned and drank some more chai. "So she replaced your pillows and you dumped her. Boy do you have some serious commitment issues. I'll have to fix those, I suppose."

"You'll do no such thing, but you're welcome to try. And it wasn't so much that she replaced the pillows so much as the fact that she didn't ask me before she did it."

"So you'd have been okay with the flowery pink pillows if she'd asked you first? So you're saying you're not a commitment-phobe, you're just a pushover?"

"No! But at least if she'd asked me we could have reached a compromise."

"Like blue flowers?"

"Or pink cars." He found himself playing along.

"Did you- actually. No. That's too obvious."

"What?"

"I was going to ask whether you had a bad relationship in the past. But I'm guessing you grew up around the most toxic one you ever really needed to see, so I guess I can understand your aversion."

"Are you... are you seriously talking about my parents right now?" he sounded incredulous.

Ishana shrugged. "You're the one who asked for honesty."

"Yeah, but that's just brutal don't you think?"

"Maybe. But if that's what rocks your chain."

Omkara laughed, despite himself. "Okay, Ishana. So what's your plan this time round?"

"It's not really a plan, per se. It's a game. Or rather, a series of games."

"Huh?"

"I want you to play a series of games with me and by the end of it, I guarantee you'll be in love with me. If you're not," she shrugged her lip with a cool nonchalance that indicated she firmly believed this would be impossible, "then I'll back off and you'll never see me again."

"And what if I don't want to play your games?"

Ishana shook her head. "Not my games. We take it in turns. You can even pick the first one. The winner picks the next one."

Omkara tilted his head slightly and observed the young woman opposite him. She watched him in turn, unaffected by the intensity of his gaze. She smiled and drummed her fingers on the table.

She swallowed and his eyes were drawn to the sweep of her neck, where he saw the flicker of her pulse.

A sudden urge to brush his lips on that spot, hear her moan. He was certain she would, that part of the neck sure to be exquisitely sensitive.

He shook the vivid and unexpected image from his head.

"Chess."

"Are you sure you want to give away so much about yourself with the first game?"

Omkara arched an eyebrow. "I don't make a lot of conversation while I'm playing chess, I like to focus."

"That in itself tells me something about you. Chess is an incredibly revealing game, Omkara. So let me ask you again, are you sure it's the one you want to start with?"

"You're forgetting, Ishana, there are two players. Whatever you think you might learn about me, I assure you I'll be learning more about you."

Ishana laughed. "You're a lot more fun than I thought you'd be."

Omkara inclined his head, graciously accepting the compliment and mocking her in the same small movement. "When and where will we play this game of chess?"

She nibbled the corner of her lip as she was thinking, drawing his attention to their fullness. She caught him looking, winked. "Seducing you will be no fun if you make it this easy. How about the day after tomorrow? Back here. 6pm. You chose chess so you provide the board and pieces."

"That sounds... great?"

"In the interest of honesty, I have to admit I'm genuinely surprised you're agreeing to all of this. I was mostly expecting you to freak out and yell at me again."

"I er, I'm sorry. For what I said last time."

She looked surprised, and then slightly sheepish. "I guess I should apologise as well. I said some pretty harsh things and... I didn't mean them. I obviously wouldn't be pursuing you if I thought you'd really turn out like your-"

"Ishana."

"Yes?"

"Just because I want what you tell me to be the truth doesn't mean you have to tell me everything."

"So full disclosure not required?"

"Very much not required. I shouldn't have mentioned your family or upbringing." He frowned. "I'm not really one for outbursts and arguments, I tend to ruminate and withdraw. Shivaay is the firecracker and er... I guess when it was my turn to combust I just went with his trademarked dialogues."

"And yet he's marrying the woman with no family, no name and no prestige?"

"He's marrying his soulmate."

"Come on now, Omkara. Surely you're not telling me you believe in that nonsense?"

And suddenly his eyes were the Artist's. The one who saw too much and too deep and too far. The one who knew peoples' secrets without them so much as speaking a word. The Artist saw past her flippant words and incredulous expression and it saw the heart beating within. She stiffened. People always sensed something had changed when the Artist took over and their guards automatically slammed up, but they were too late. He could see past them all because he was already inside them.

He spoke the truth he saw within her and realised it was so easy because it was his own truth too. "I can believe something exists even if I've never seen it. I can want something even if I don't believe I'll ever find it. The heart knows and the heart wants, a baptism of fire requires no fonts."

Ishana was silent for a moment.

"Fonts? Like Helvetica? Omkara hon, you really need to work on your poetry skills."

Omkara sputtered, the Artist receding back within him, his intensity no longer required. "If you don't know what a baptismal font is, I can't help you." He stood up, motioning to his driver to bring the car closer. "I'll see you back here in two days, Ishana."

She nodded, waiting until his car had driven away- with him inside- to release a shuddering breath of relief. She couldn't believe that had worked.

Ishana Patel was not a woman used to second chances, but whether he admitted it or not, Omkara Singh Oberoi had just given her one. And he'd done it for her, for Ishana. The real one. So often dismissed or ignored or even actively disliked...

Something flickered inside Ishana, some small emotion she had long since thought completely burned out. She was as surprised by this existence of the tiniest spark of hope within her as she was by the man who had ignited it.