SOMEWHERE ON THE STREET OF BANARAS. 01:11

I started to walk out of the room, my face covered with a scarf, as I was not at all interested in being recognised by anyone. My heart is always at its highest every time I'm here, because this wasn't something I am proud of doing, and if anyone caught me in my real world, that would be the end of my dignity and respect and the small world I have created outside all this.

I started walking toward the back door, the least used door, but it's closer to the highway, and no one on the highway knows where you are coming from, one of the houses, malls or here.

I was walking in a hurry as it was already past midnight, and if I got any later, I would miss my bus. I was practically running when I heard a loud gunshot. A soft yelp left my mouth in reflex, and my eyes widened in shock as I saw a man struggling to walk.

A sane person would run away, but I never claimed to be one. I wanted to run away, but this grandmother of mine was yelling at me to go and help him, so I did. I walked toward him with slow steps, begging every god to take care of me or else kill this budhiya in my place.

His back was facing me, I kept my hand on his shoulder trying to gain his attention, " ahh!" I couldn't even scream properly as he covered my mouth with his bloodied hand; the only barrier was my dupatta.

He looked at me, his eyes narrowed in investigation as if scanning my past, present and future through them. I wiggle in his hold, but instead of letting me go, he pulled me closer. Now I was sitting between his legs on the floor, his one hand holding my middle, the very same hand in which he was holding a gun, and his other hand was against my mouth.

His eyes were glued to mine, call me evil, I don't care as I smack on his already bloodied hand on his wound, he pulled away, wincing.

" Are you serious, or are you a joke?"

" What?" His words were crisp, and I could practically feel the dryness of his throat. Without wasting a second, I passed him my bottle of water. I narrowed my eyes, glaring at him as he took the bottle with a bloodied hand and not only that, but now blood was over my bottle and dupatta too.

Everything was quiet now as the people searching for him left with their cars, to find him, expecting him to be running away somewhere, while here he was, in the bush of cartons and bottles of alcohol.

" I am just trying to help, so you better cooperate..okay," I said, my voice was calm. He didn't say anything. I didn't waste a second as I went through my purse searching for something, only to find nothing.

I felt nauseous because of the bloodied dupatta pressed to my face. I looked around, then at him. He was now lying back lazily against the bush. I opened my dupatta, and a gust of air hit my face. Rubbing my face with the corner of my dupatta, I focused back on him, only to find him already looking at me.

" Staring is a bad habit," I said, and he didn't react, nor did he look away. Ignoring him, I fetched a handkerchief and tied it against his wound to stop the bleeding, every part of me breaking into pieces as I saw my pink handkerchief drown in blood.

I rubbed my wet dupatta on his face as his entire face was covered in blood, as if he was feasting on a body. I don't feel scared or anything because this won't be my first time cleaning or taking care of someone like this. I do fear him doing something to me, tho.

And under all that blood was a man so handsome, his skin was flawless, I wanted to ask about his skin care, but I would sound dumb for that, won't I?

" Dekhne se to Shareef lagte ho yahan kya kar rahe ho..." I said, hesitating for a second before cleaning his other hand, he didn't let his guard down as he kept the gun on his lap. Making sure who is in the power. My eyes cast low only on the gun, before I looked back toward his hand.

" That's all I can do, go to a doctor or call your gan-"

" Aap kya kar rahi hain yahan?" My breath hitched as I heard him. I looked up, my eyes against his; he stared back, not blinking. Is he even a human, or a ghost just like my budhiya?

" Shuker maniye hum yahan mill gaye.." I said, leaving my bloodied dupatta with him, running away as I was more than late for my bus. My heartbeat was roaring in my chest, as I looked down at my kurti, it had a slight blood on it, I didn't dare look back, feeling his eyes on myself whole time.

And by the grace of god, the bus was also late. The driver and conductor smiled at me as I got on the bus; they weren't creepy, and that's the best I could ask for in the middle of the night. .

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TEQUILA BAR 11:30 pm

I was sitting with Anwesha, her hands wrapped around my shoulder as we both sat lazily on the couch. I could feel eyes on myself, on the heavy diamond ring on my finger, but against everything, this wasn't my taste. A bald white diamond can never be my taste.

I excused myself as I started walking toward the restroom, a glass of wine in my hand as I took a small sip now and then, my eyes roaming around in every corner, inspecting.

My legs stopped themselves in my way as I heard a laugh, a familiar laugh. It doesn't take rocket science to know who it is, I navigated toward him.

I didn't move any closer as I watched him from the doorstep. His hands were holding a glass of alcohol, yes, for others it was alcohol, but the fact that he doesn't consume alcohol, the thing in his hand is a soft drink.

But what I stopped for wasn't the soft drink, but the woman sitting next to him, she was pretty, dressed in a black bodycon, with a slit at its waist, she was sitting close to him.

I stood there watching as she got closer to him, whispering something in his ear, and he smiled. It was a small smile; he doesn't smile big, but it's genuine, and I wanted to know how funny her words were.

I shook my head and started leaving, my back facing him, when I felt it, his eyes on me, I started walking toward the restroom.

I sat on the counter of the restroom, spinning the wine in the glass softly. The door of the washroom shut as he walked inside, " Isn't she too funny?" I asked, taking a sip of my wine.

" Was she? " I looked straight in his eyes, trying to find lies, but I found none, indeed.

" I saw you acting like you enjoy alcohol."

" So are you....acting like you want this marriage." A chuckle left my mouth as I saw his raging gaze on my hand, on the the ring.

" Is that how you talk to your to be sister-in-law?"

" Don't." He was standing close to me, he wasn't touching me not that I want him too, his eyes were casted low, he never looks directly in my eyes, such a loser.

" Don't what Vardhan.." I whispered, and I could feel how a shiver ran down his body through our proximity. He stepped back. Too disgusted by my touch?

I controlled the shock as he dropped to his knees, " Please don't marry him.."

A smirk spread across my lips. I kept the glass on the sides, keeping my right leg above the left, sitting tight. " Is that how you talk about your brother?"

I sounded like an evil because I am, his hand trembled slightly as he brought it closer to my leg, trying to touch it, I pulled my leg away.

" Is that how you touch something forbidden?" I chuckled as I teased him; it was a mesmerising view watching Aryavardhan Singh Rana on his knees for me.

A shiver ran down my body as I felt his lips on my feet. I felt a flutter in my chest as he softly pecked on both of my feet, keeping his forehead longer than necessary before he pulled them away.

His eyes were looking at me, yet hung low, not looking straight in my eyes. I was ready to see the hate, but I could find none of it; instead, all they held were longing and grief.

" How does it feel being on your knees for me, Mr. Rana?" I stood in front of him, softly patting his head, his hair was too soft. I wanted to run my fingers a little longer, but instead I walked away from him, even when my heart broke too.

" Hum jee nahi payenge aapko kisi aur ke saath dekh kar..."

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To be continued......