Ecoutez Moi, Love!
~1~
"Green, pink or lavender?"
His brow wrinkled deeply, eyes refusing to open just yet, even as the sound of her voice could not fail to register with his slumber affected head, and be recognized. Formal, and informal greetings she had foresaken, of course, cause she rarely bothered with the whole 'hey I'm so and so' triviality, but her alter opening was majorly elusive, even by her usual conveniently non-explicit standards ... "Nik-ki...? he managed, sounding deeply hoarse and croaky himself, as if heavily drugged; a consequence technically of being woken up from the shortest spell of sleep that he had barely earned for himself after 40 hours of none.
"Holy gee AM! You're sleeping!" The few words he may just have mumbled in response were smothered by a wide consuming yawn. The few seconds of silence prompted her to continue expressing utter displeasure. "You don't mean to tell me you're already in bed at 8PM? I thought your Friday psychiatry shift never went past noon? You can't be reduced to such dead meat state, you better say no!"
"I ... no ... why ... yes I sort of ..."
"And now you're struggling with one straight sentence, awesome!"
"But ... "
"There's no scope for a but here! You're insensitive about us. We're hundreds of miles apart, and you never make plans for weekend visits anymore and it has always been like this for so long and now you don't even consider calling me during your meal breaks so I know what's been up with you and when I finally can hold up my pride no longer against my worry I make a call myself and find you're doing what? Catching a lovely beauty sleep?!"
"Nikki," he begun resignedly, more awakened than he could have expected himself to be so soon, even if not half as refreshed as he would have hoped. "I was ... never mind. You called?"
"I called?! Why yes I did!" She was so unstoppable with her tirade, that his passive reaction went down as 'disinterest' rather than a more concern worthy something. "Is there something wrong with me considering calling my guy at least 'once' a day?" The 'my guy' bit twisted something inside him. Her guy was Armaan Malik, not him. He was Abhimanyu Modi. But that aside, she wasn't being all that unfair in wrecking this wrath upon him. He had avoided her most entirely for almost two days now. She didn't know the reason, and explaining that was what had exactly kept him sort of incommunicado as far as she was concerned. Who was he fooling, he'd never escape her, or even want to. He wanted all of this to get right, he wanted her to know the truth, the entire truth, oh why had he ever started off with a lie in the first place. A little voice inside him told him because it had not mattered as it did now, back then.
"HELLOOO?!" His eyes jerked open. Wide open. Miserably he rubbed a palm over the ear she had screamed into, and grudgingly made to sit up in his bed, finding his way out of the sheets that had rolled themselves around him, while simultaneously searching for the switch to the bedside lamp. "Armaan Malik, I warn you to start speaking up if ..."
"I'm here," he said hastily, mostly because the entire deal of hearing her call him by that name wasn't helping his survival ... what would happen when she learned of the truth?
"That helps!" She muttered, barely appeased.
"I'm here, and I'm listening to you Nikki ... and I'm sorry ..." he paused meaning the apology so much as he had never meant in his life, though not for the reason she would imagine. Then realizing he had lapsed into a silence again, he went on, "I think ... I ... " he fumbled with words again as the golden glow of the lamp momentarily blinded him. Oh he was so tired ...! And he couldn't tell her anything about it ... not just yet. Because then... he'd have to explain about the entire ... well, he couldn't. "I'm sorry the signal snapped I think ... what were you saying again?"
Nikki didn't answer him right away. Something about the humble conceding in his voice and words quietened her. She had definitely woken him up - but it wasn't like him to be sleeping in so early anyways. And she'd gone on telling him off and what not without inquiring about the basic why. And now, she assumed from the greater alertness of his voice, despite its somewhat lingering slowness, that he had been woken enough so as not to just crash back unaffected by the interruption. Suddenly, she felt all guilty about it.
"I ..." she begun, stopping herself from asking the obvious question, cause it also only occurred to her, that he wasn't making effort to explain himself. "How're you doing?" He was taken aback by her asking. Had he been dreaming about the rant she had begun this call with? The tender note of her words made him smile, bitter sweet.
"I'm ... better ... now that I've heard your voice." It was a solemn reply. Mentally he bid himself to drop the gravity or she would sniff the trouble. And that could get very, very ugly. "I'm glad you called Nikki." He added anyways, cause coming up with an impromptu deviation to the topic was just not happening with how preoccupied his thoughts were at the moment.
Nikki's mind was indeed working at a furious pace. Something was wrong, and if her intuition was not enough to tell her as much, all signs about him were glaring. She wanted desperately to know what and why. And yet, it seemed to her the moment was not yet come. Fine then, she mused, she would give him his time and space. If only she could stop worrying about the mystery of it meanwhile ...
"So ... erm ... did you end getting held up by the senior doctor for a longer session than usual?"
"Hmm." he responded briefly. Not trusting himself to word another lie. Which senior doctor could hold him up, Abhimanyu Modi, a senior himself in the Neural Department. But how was she to know that? What she did understand was that he was only excusing himself on a false alibi, one that she had offered him knowingly, in the effort of not pressing him for the truth. He couldn't be anymore thankful, and he'd never know how to do without her presence in his life anymore. He'd tried, two long days, involving himself with every case that came to his unit, in vain. At the end, he was one hell of a tired surgeon, who had to walk out on a major operation because his eyes would refuse to focus on the needle anymore. Thankfully there had been another senior to fill in for him - or he dreaded to think what may have become of the patient. No, he had decided driving back, this would not do. He could not expect to keep his personal dilemma at bay at the cost of his patients.
"Armaan?" He flinched, at the soft note of his voice, and at the name it was spelling. Then taking a deep breath he said, "Let's not talk about me for now. How've you been?"
"Worried." she replied, honestly.
"I'm sorry Nikki. I should have called. Its just ... anyways, you did instead. Thank god one of us has better sense. Now tell me what were you saying?"
"You mean you want me to repeat all of the 'you're an irresponsible boyfriend' lecture again?" She inquired in a childlike cute way, and inevitably, it made him smile, even if crookedly.
"No ..." he said with a light chuckle, which she heard and felt brief relief about, "I mean ... what was all that about the colors in the beginning."
"Colors? Oh! Oh, yeh, jeez, how did I forget?! So I was calling to well ... you know that potluck I mentioned? The one my new neighbors are hosting? By the way, the guy is just fine, but his girlfriend, goodness, she's a loud screechy, whining, ordering, arrogant, narcissistic ...
"Ahem!"
"Sorry, I get carried away! But she is all that, and quite more, trust me! Anyways so I have to totally show her who's better tonight, and I was hoping you could pick one for me - green, pink or lavender." Abhimanyu had to laugh, even though he kept it quiet. Shaking his head he said, "How about black, brown or blue?"
"AM!" she exclaimed, demanding. His fist tightened over the phone. Well, at least there was this silver lining of sharing common initials with 'Armaan Malik' - AM still felt like it could be him. "Hello? ..." Her reminder softened the scowl that was coming on.
"Okay, how about ... lavender?"
"Yeh? Awsome! I'll call you back in 20." He quipped hurriedly before she could cut the call on him.
"Nikki...?"
"Yeh?"
"Erm ... how long will you be?"
"I just said twenty!" She said with a little happy smile. After quite a while, and quite was to be highlighted here, he had sounded like the guy he had been at the start of their affair, always calling her, keeping her up late nights, and imploring to her for '5 more minutes' every time she said she must hang up ...
"No ... I mean, how long will you be out tonight?" Tentatively, she held back on her breath. In anticipation, and speculation. Were they finally going to talk all night on a call - like they used to before, a time that felt so far away - she had thought they were done with that exciting part of the early relationship ...
"Why ... do you ask?" she whispered, half hoping, half fearing what he may tell her.
"Well I ..." he stopped, knowing he couldn't give her the real reason. There was no telling what all she would imagine about his being in town right that moment, some 10 minutes of drive away from her. What was he doing here, why had he not told her, and if this was even his twisted idea of a surprise, why was sleeping at 8PM instead of being with her ... the questions would be endless, and he just could not let her be so prepared in expecting him this time. He had flown into the eastern metro, so tired, and the matter for which he had arranged to be here this weekend, with her, was so very convoluted, and even more important, that he didn't trust himself with a confrontation without at least a recovering few hours of sleep. He had taken a room in the hotel closest from the 'Med Ghetto', as the students lovingly named their campus residence, and crashed into the bed without a change of clothes or a bite to eat. These few minutes of being on a call with her however, had revived him more than a fitful sleep could have, he supposed. "Just feel like a chat ..." He told her quietly.
Her smile widened. She thought about the last couple months and the kind of distance she had felt creep between them. No, he had still always been every bit as considerate and loving in his moments - even in their inevitable regular doze of trivial arguments was a comfort of intimacy she always would seek - but something had still changed. Initially she had dismissed it on account of his work load - after all, clinical year was meant to hard, and beyond it kept getting tighter, at least for a while - medical was not the easy field of study, even lesser when one was just a student and still had a long way to go before establishing oneself, whatever else its charm may be! But gradually, it had become odd between them - starting from few times a week, to at least once a day, they would have extremely clipped, rather formal quick talks on the phone, not the fight-and-hangup kind, or the hurried ushering of 'love you(s)' while rushing to or from work, but the remain distant and neutral and monosyllabic kind. Sometimes they would start off just fine, and then somewhere in the middle she would lose him, he would abruptly, for no reason she could fathom, become really quiet and just 'hmm' and 'yeh' before ultimately claiming a pager buzz sooner than expected. Yes. There had been a certain pattern which had felt like feeble estrangement to her, and now, the past two days, he had not called her once! She had gone from being in wait, to being angry, to being hurt and furious at once, to pretending indifference, to finally worrying like crazy. Back from a long day of lectures and anatomy demonstrations, for she was still in her second year at Med school, she had been undecided over the potluck today, and so tensed about not hearing from him that she didn't think she could keep up a cordial farce for anyone in the world. And so, she had called him. And now, with his latest words, she was so glad she had. It was like a moment of rediscovering the man she had found her love with.
"Well ..." she said, rolling the 'l' phonetic more in a teasing, somewhat coy manner, "I can bail myself out of that potluck and just stay at home ... if you insist enough ..." A second time he could help laughing, though a little. She was such a child at times, such an adorable child! How could he not be so in love? His face hardened at that cause it reminded him of the nasty business he had come for. "Let me clarify that if you sit smiling at the other end of the phone AM, I shall absolutely not be persuaded to miss the potluck."
"And I thought I heard you calling your dear hostess all those lovely names not so long ago?"
"Good food is worth some casual trouble when one is as famished as I am." she answered back tartly. It reminded him, among other thoughts, how truly hungry he was himself. Not only had he over worked himself, but he had also skipped meals cause taking those breaks made him restless about not calling her. A handful of granola bars was all he had eaten in the past 40 hours. Not to mention the pots of coffee that he had not kept count of.
"I suppose I can't disagree with you there."
"Then you should think of something smart and convincing to say to me real quick."
"Say Nikki, what lavender dress were you going to wear for the potluck anyways?"
"Dress?! I see you're buying yourself time. But for your very ill-updated information, I don't have a lavender dress."
"You don't right? I thought as much ... but then you were asking me to chose ..."
"Oh you mean green, pink and lavender? That was for the food."
"WHAT?" She giggled rolling her eyes at his first loud word. "I thought..."
"Its for what I should wear?"
"Well no I wasn't exactly thinking what it may be, but only clothes seem to make sense, more than food anyways. I've never eaten anything 'lavendar'." She could just imagine him string the last word in the air as he spoke it, a typical of him.
"I assure you neither have I." she shot back, giggling more. He frowned at her secret joke while stifling a yawn. "I just asigned three options to three colors. Mushrooms for green, chicken for pink, fried rice for lavendar." His eyes rose in mild amusement at her answer, but the smile was hard to keep away. Such a way to make decisions!
"That's very... girly ... you know," he said, through a yawn, working his way out of the sheets which were really entangled around him now.
"Bingo! I'm glad the news that you're dating a 'girl' has finally hit you. And now, since you still haven't come up with one good reason to keep me from ..."
"Actually, there is a reason." he said interrupting, pouring himself a glass of cold water from the jar that had been placed by room service.
"Which is ..."
"I can't tell you ... yet." She would have scoffed him to be trying bluff with her, but there had been no insinuation of any jest in his words."Why don't you ... err ... what were those options again, yeh, cook the pink and green in lavender? And I shall call you back in 20?" She narrowed her eyes curiously, before knowing the question to ask.
"What exactly are you trying to ..."
"Please Nikki. No questions, 20 minutes. Then I shall answer them all." His tone was so serious, she knew not a way to disagree.
"Okay," she said, "Okay, 20 minutes. I'm waiting ..."
"And I shall not keep you any longer. I promise." The last of his words held more meaning than she would have known, even if her intrigue was getting the better of her. "Love you ..." he murmured before flapping shut the cell. He took in a deep breath, gave a quick look to the watch on his wrist, then looked at himself in the mirror - still in the formals he'd been wearing for two days now, and the shoes were on, cause he'd not even cared about taking them off before crashing onto this hotel bed. Well, he was here now, and he'd promised her no more wait ... evidently, the time had come to spill some beans.
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hello everyone! i'm new to the thread, and even to the very gang of AN fans - but coming upon this thread, something of an idea occurred to me, and it seemed like i could do a short story - when i say short, i'm hoping for 2 chapters, and expect not more than 3!
would love to hear back your views on this first chapter of the 2 or 3 that there will be! and, i shall be posting the next one within 24 hours =)
ps: the title Ecoutez Moi, Love! means hear me out love/listen to me, love! When i mention clinical year, it implies, in terms of numbers of years in the US medical study system, the third year at med school - which in general means third year of masters for other disciplines. if there is any other doubt, i'd be glad to clarify!
until chap 2 then,
cheers,
nj
Edited by spln - 15 years ago
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