Every touch was a bloody revelation.
She had been reaching out for her cup of tea, he had reached out for his own, their hands had grazed each other, just barely, and yet it had been too much. A jar of cookies had slipped out her hands, and he had rushed to save it from falling, and ended up cradling her hand in his own.
She would fall, into his arms, on top of him, roll over with him on top of her, and there was so much physical contact, it drove him crazy because each time felt like a bloody revelation.
(Time seemed to pause, as did they both, when such incidents happened. He didn't know what the two of them looked like to the rest of the world when they had such moments.)
Was there...was there background music too?
He couldn't tell. He didn't really want to know. His life was turning into a corny storyline straight out of a movie. He wouldn't be surprised if there was music involved.
So maybe he was a teeny tiny bit obsessed with her (but he absolutely was) and maybe it was because it felt like she was always slipping out of his hands (because she absolutely was) and maybe the fact that all he could think about was his next encounter with her was something of a problem (and it absolutely was) but it was fine. Really.
Except that every touch was a bloody revelation.
He didn't know how even the slightest brush of arms with her was such a big deal, when he frequently had Rhea all over him without it bothering him too much. Well, it was something of a bother, if he was honest with himself, Rhea could be clingy at times, something Ali remarked upon very often, but it didn't bother him the way encounters with Ananya did.
He actually looked forward to the electric buzz every touch from her incited within him. A sudden jolt to his system, like being doused with hot water that made him go warm all over, the point of contact between them tingling long after she'd left (because she always left. Damn her. He was convinced half of his obsession with her was being fueled by her always leaving him wanting more. Information about her, of course. He didn't want more of her. Or he did. He wasn't sure.)
His internal monologue was as confused about her as the rest of him was, if that wasn't obvious already.
He wasn't obsessed obsessed with her. She was a case that he was deeply involved in, one that he desperately wanted to solve, so of course he thought about her every single minute of every single day. He had pictures of her on his laptop, in his office, on the board hanging over his bed, in his phone, all of them related to his ongoing investigation. (Except the one picture where she was making a cartoon face while trying to get rid of a cookie crumble stuck on her chin. He'd told her he would delete it and yet- he hadn't been able to. For case related reasons. Obviously.)
He'd made a detailed study of every curve, every contour, every line of her face. (From all the hours of staring at her pictures.)
No.
From all the hours spent investigating her.
Right.
So his obsession with her was valid. Reasonable, too, given the circumstances.
His reverence with the physical aspect of each encounter, however, was concerning, to say the least. He didn't want to start finding excuses to touch her (but he usually didn't need any. She slipped way too often and he was usually around to help with that.)
But he'd come to this realisation over time- every touch between them felt like a bloody revelation. He liked revelations. Way too much.
(He was a cop. Revelations were usually good news in his field. He was fine-tuned this way.)
Every time he met her, he was filled with anticipation, his entire countenance humming with the need to get closer, just for another touch- a small link to her, so he could feel the revelation once more, and his impulses worried him.
He needed to focus. Case. Investigation. Ananya.
Bloody revelations.
He needed to steer clear of her. And yet every time he'd tried, he'd failed. Maybe he wasn't trying hard enough (he wasn't) but it was because she intrigued him. Her secrets allured him way too much for him to simply give up.
And besides, he was sure she was a criminal. Someday, he would prove that his hunch was right about her being Case 1,2,3.
So against his better instincts he had to continue staying involved with her. And having close encounters with her. It was part of his job.
And maybe he didn't mind being in her vicinity (or the revelations) so much.
Curiosity had killed the cat, hadn't it?
Ananya was going to be the death of him.
oOo
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