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Chapter 2
"Dammit"
He hit the pillow again in frustration.
Turning over on to his back he recalled the events of the evening.
***
Watching her gracefully walk over to the refreshment table, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. She seemed to be floating through the guests as if her feet never touched the ground. She was magnificent in red. His eyes skimmed over her lithe lissom body, her beauty was almost unnatural and she was breathtakingly stunning in her red saree. When she walked in he was in conversation with Aman and he stood there, his mouth opened, but no words came, his throat dried as her almond shaped hazel eyes looked at him, doe like. He became flustered. Why did this girl cause him to react this way?
He was angry with himself and confused that there was a force that pulled him so strongly towards her. It was so strong it took all his might to fight it and he didn't understand why this girl did this to him. ASR had many women in his life but no one, NO ONE, ever, ever affected him like she did. Whenever he felt an urge to kiss those lips,
which was too many times for his liking, he would fight with her...it was easier to make her angry with him and then she would push him away with her retaliating words. Somehow this made him feel better as if rejected by her.
Maybe a form of punishment because he felt he didn't deserve love?
She picked up a glass of juice and the hairs behind her neck stood on end and chills went down her spine. 
That feeling always came when he was intently staring at her; she somehow knew he was doing this even with her back turned to him.
Slowly she turned and lifted her long dark lashes, their eyes met and it was if an explosion hit his chest, he actually staggered back. He coughed and turned and walked away.
Khushi whispered under her breath,
"What is with him, that Laad Govenor?"
The night continued with entertaining music, wonderful food and all having a splendid time. The room seemed as if it roared with many voices, a cacophony of sound that vibrated throughout the large mansion.
Through this excitement and buzz of the famous, a few elite photographers were chosen to capture the event, clicking their cameras with bright flashes of light surrounding the guests. In this feverishness, a loan couple stood out;
A still, a quietness surrounded them,
As if alone,
Across the room from each other,
But their eyes found each other through the mists of the crowd.
Nothing else mattered.
As she strolled the room so did he,
Parallel.
His piercing eyes never leaving hers.
Too intense at times she had to look away;
But every time her eyes would wander back,
Searching for their home.
Nothing else mattered.
He didn't understand what he was doing he just did it as if controlled by the Goddess of Love or maybe even Cupid!
Love he thought, ridiculous!
He was ASR, dammit, he did not fall in love, he didn't believe in it.
He turned and walked away and went to the bar. The bartender looked at him and knew he needed something to calm him, his frustration was written all over his face.
He placed two fingers of single malt straight up right in front of him.
Arnav grabbed the shot and swallowed it in one swallow.
He slammed the glass down and walked away furiously.
Khushi went to the powder room where she splashed water on her flushed face.
What was she doing playing cat and mouse with her boss?
Her heart was beating a mile a minute, her cheeks flushed with the feverishness of the moment.
"This is ridiculous, stop it right now, Khushi, what are you thinking?"
She reapplied her kohl to her eyes and her pink lipstick to her pouting lips, took a breath and went back into the lion's den.
When she went back to the hall he was nowhere to be found.
She let out the breath she didn't know she was holding all this time and found Anjali and Aman looking very chummy.
***
He had to get out of the house, he couldn't breathe. He handed the valet his keys to his SUV. The valet brought his truck up and Arnav jumped in. He revved the engine and with a screech he took off.
The road is long, dark, and it is as if a demon is driving the SUV. Here he is driving in his SUV, his truck where he is free from all scrutiny...his psychiatrist's couch. A safe haven for him to think without anyone knowing; just him, the car and the road.
A place where he can just go and drive,
and think and drive,
and think and see,
and think and feel,
and no one will know.
Yes, his psychiatrist's couch, where it is safe to think, question and reminisce.
But all these images... his mind won't stop...
Driving in his truck, where he is alone with himself, with his thoughts of her, alone with the camera of his mind, the shutters flashing the scenes before his eyes of "that girl". Reminiscing of all the times she fell into his arms 
and even when he let her fall, 
of "that girl" looking ravishing in her red saree, 
of "that girl" standing in the rain and of him saving her from an on coming car. 
Her beautiful eyes, her smile, her "Good Morning!" as she places his morning coffee on his desk every day. Her beautiful curves of her body and those pouty,luscious lips he just can't stop thinking how they would feel under his...
STOP!
STOP!
He slams on the breaks and swerves to a halt.
He gets out.
He can't take it anymore.
He questions..
Why?
Why?
Why do I keep thinking about her?
Why?
Why do I see her face all the time?
Why?
Like lying on the pyschiatrist's couch he thinks and thinks and finally comes to an answer.
***
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Chapter3
Edited by cinthiann1758 - 11 years ago
66