Pallavi slipped her sweaty palms noiselessly to the neck of the vase, shining brightly despite the ill lit surrounding, holding it in a vice like grip. Her muscles tensed up as the faint footsteps became bolder before coming to a halt just behind her.
Giving in to the panic seemed easy, but passivity had never saved anyone. Screaming before brandishing her makeshift weapon at the intruder, of course, seemed like a wise plan. But the screams died in her throat as the man cleared his throat and she abruptly turned around to see what her ears already told her.
Pallavi felt a fleeting relief instantly replaced by a sickening urge to stab someone. More precisely, a tall figure, garbed in all black and to her obvious dismay sporting a self amused smirk.
Raghav tipped his head,in mockery of a salutation, like one would do in the direction of a friend or person you're well acquainted with. But they weren't friends. She wouldn't, ever, want to know him. And he definitely didn't knew her.
In the moonlight, his bronze skin glowed and the shadows due to his sharp bones highlighted the chiseled planes of his face. Pallavi couldn't help but admit to herself that the man had a grace about him- majestic and deadly and just by looking at his easy posture anybody could tell that he's in his element in darkness.
Him taking a step back brought Pallavi the realisation that she was standing closer to him than she had ever before and was studying him in a way she had never allowed herself to study a man.
His gaze was playful, mocking even, as he returned the favour considering her from head to toe. Never once blinking at her disheveled hair or stopping to gawk at her ripped blouse sleeve. It was a quick but thorough inspection. She would've called it caring and protective, had she not known the man any better. Mother nature may waste all the dark male beauty it could devise on this undeserving specimen but nothing would convince Pallavi to see the good in him.
Battling with her inner temptation to cover her torn blouse, Pallavi leveled him with a stern gaze.
"what are you doing here?"
Within two long strides he was a the window inspecting it like an artefact he was planning on buying.
"Amrita... she told me.."
"Of course! It is her.." she interrupted him.
She should've known it when Amrita was acting all nice, apologising for ruining her blouse, walking her upto this room and even asking her to take a little rest until she comes back with something to help. She felt foolish for being the easy target of Amrita's silly pranks, once again.
But she couldn't completely blame her. Of course, one charming glance from the devil here and the girl is ready to turn herself inside out. In desperation of impressing him and maintaining his mysterious interest in her, she must have turned on Pallavi. Even sent him here to behold her handiwork himself. Pathetic.
"Liked what you see? Now get out and inform your minion how pleased you're with her work" she fumed.
"God! Will you listen to me woman."
Pallavi fell silent glimpsing the crack in his calm demeanour.
"Your aunt is done playing cat and mouse games. And for once, that stupid lady is using her brain and instead of foolishly trying to prevent it, she's planning to get you married to some "never do well nephew" of hers" he frowned as if the word "nephew" left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"I'll not marry him. She cannot force me. Nobody can" Pallavi felt livid at the preposterous thing.
"She cannot but the circumstances she'll create might... You, in this state" he pointed at her ripped sleeve and Pallavi again ignored the urge to cover her sleeve.
"In case... the drunk nephew walks in here, you'll surely scream, and before you know all guests will be here to witness the scene. Your aunt would cry hysterically despairing for your supposed "ruination" and demand her nephew make an "honourable woman" out of you by accepting your hand in marriage. To which he would agree, not so surprisingly.
Pallavi swallowed, willing the tears not to fall.
"My... My Aai Baba would never... never..."
"No doubt, they won't approve. But other relatives might and so will Mansi's in laws. Surely, they wouldn't want their only son's wedding to be remembered for a scandal and the proposed solution will hold a certain appeal to them. With Baba's health, family's prestige and Mansi's happiness on balance you'll find yourself agreeing to the very thing you found preposterous a minute ago."
Pallavi opened her mouth but nothing came out. She felt breathless and as the tears rolled down her cheeks, she did something she never thought herself capable of. She cursed Sulochana Kaku and wished her to rot in pits of hell for subjecting her and whole family to the humiliation.
As he slipped a hanky in her hands, she heard a "I'll help you" so soft that for a second she thought she imagined it and fixed him with a disbelieving look.
"Why would you? It's not like we are allies."
"Allies? Come on Pallavi, you make it sound so cold like some business arrangement, a trade. And here I thought we could be more." He was a horrendous man finding mirth in her misery.
"More??" she frowned.
"Something like, what they say, friends??" he suggested with a saccharine smile and Pallavi felt hopeless.
For a man like Raghav, friendship had nothing to do with affection. To him there are only two types of people- useful and useless. Useless are trampled upon and useful are used until they aren't useful anymore.
The door won't budge, the window he climbed in from was too high for her, hands sore from knocking and screams unheard. Pallavi felt like a cornered animal. And the only help available was a debt- a debt, the debter would make sure to collect on- a debt, she had no means to pay.
"I have nothing to offer"
But she decided to receive, anyway. She couldn't let herself and her Aai Baba suffer disgrace none of them deserved.
She knew it must have taken a lot of effort for him, to not to pounce on her small admission, twist it and manipulate her into giving but he resisted the temptation, for then.
Kneeling on one knee, he patted on the other one beckoning her to step on him in order to climb out through window. As she was struggling to pull herself up, she felt his hands on her rear and before she could protest she was jumping out of the window. In an instant, her cheeks turned rosy and the man didn't had enough decency to look indifferent, if not apologetic. The miscreant was having a laugh at her expense.
***********
As Pallavi walked towards her home, she could feel the cool air leaching every hateful emotion, every distressing thought out of her mind. It was a good idea to put distance between the world and herself for a little while. With every step towards her home, she felt like herself again. calm, composed and less enraged.
His easy footfalls behind her, with a feline quality of languor made her feel mysteriously self assured. It was a long day but she made it to home avoiding every mishap, only if he would leave now.
"Raghav, do you see the two dogs beside orion up there" she asked.
For a second he was puzzled then followed her gaze skyward and realised she was talking about constellations.
"What about them?"
"In Greek mythology, a dog, destined to never surrender a chase, was set down to hunt the Teumassian fox, who was destined to never get caught. So they were placed in sky to carry on their never ending chase"
"Should I be offended for you comparing me to a dog?"
"And myself to a tyrannical fox?" she smiled. Not a genuine smile, not fake either. Just a peace offering.
"Nah..." she shook her head.
"What I meant is... That I don't have anything you could possibly want and you don't have it in you let a debt go unpaid. We can play out the same chase for a long time or we can simply get on with our lives. Forgetting that we made troubles for each other based on few misunderstandings. Forgetting that you ever met me"
"So you did compared me to a dog" was his only reply before he resumed walking. She was right. He's a stingy rogue who'd never let bygones be bygones no matter how much you try. He recoiled from the peace offering so sharply like her mere words burned him.
"If I'll ever compare you to someone, it'll be Hades" she literally stomped her feet and the irritation she felt was evident in her voice.
"And where is he?" he looked up at the sky.
"Not up there. He resides in the underworld. Aloof, stern and pitiless. Ruling over his realm of dead" she stated with a flat face.
"Sounds like a bad guy" he intoned.
"He is. Very bad. The villain not only dragged Persephone to the dark world with him against her will but also tricked her into staying with him. Monster"
Before she could go on with her rant, her home came in view and she started walking in without sparing him any parting words.
"How do you know ?" she turned around to come face to face with him. With his 6 feet, he peered directly into her eyes despite standing at the lower stair. He looked offended, hurt even.
"He had a flourishing income, a palace, and a freaking chariot at that. And besides being aloof, stern and pitiless, don't you think he was cold and lonely too? So what if he seeked a companion, a wife. Why wouldn't she want him?" his voice wasn't raised but his eyes conveyed how strongly he felt about this.
Pallavi was perplexed, not only by the revelation of his familiarity with the tale but with his perspective and defensive disposition regarding a mythical God.
"Seek?? He literally took her against her will" she couldn't believe she was arguing about a myth. It was a thing of her childhood. She grew out of it. Didn't she??
" How can you be so sure?" he had the look of a child in denial.
Pallavi unconsciously touched his sleeve, trying to break his trance.
"You tell me Raghav, why would a girl want to be with a man whose ice can suck every ounce of warmth from her heart; who despite his unfathomable wealth cannot buy her a little sunlight ; whose wickedness will put the goodness of her heart to test at every point..."
Pallavi felt a hot liquid searing through her gut and pooling in her stomach and underbelly as his lips came down on hers with a softness she never imagined him capable of.
It wasn't proper, she knew. She should've stopped him, she knew. And she would've, ultimately. But at that moment she stood still. Taking notes of the ecstatic feelings,coursing through her, for the keepsake.
It was wicked, but she had dreamt of this, of him, anyway. In those dreams she was a different Pallavi - less burdened, more free and he was a different Raghav- heroic, good hearted.
It wasn't a kiss like those written in romantic novels. Urgent. Passionate. No, it was a soft pressure, a sweet tease. Undemanding. Baring the part of her soul to her that was buried somewhere deep in a state of dormancy. Their kiss was a joyful ballroom dance, she'd fantasised about, with him.
He eased back slowly but his hands remained comfortably planted on her lower back. It took everything in her to not cry out in disappointment at the loss of contact between their lips.
"You're stupid" he chuckled and Pallavi dared not risk a glance into his eyes.
"She felt his warm breath on her cheek as he bent down to whisper in her ear.
"What if it was his ice that made the warmth of her heart so significant; what if the unpretentious beauty of darkness made the sunlight loose its appeal to her, what if the colours of mortal flowers paled in comparison to the crimson of blood, what if she craved freedom, a crown of her own, what if she developed a taste for wickedness. And what if the prospect of being with him, happy in their own world, was the deciding factor."
And just like that a quick peck and he took off leaving her mind to wander wander in forbidden territories and her body tingling in places she had no business tingling in.
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