|ROSES AND CIGARETTES Book-I|
She was someone who likes to be in her shell and He was someone who likes to break all the shells.
"Junoon ban chuki ho tum. Ishq ki tapish se bhi tez aur pagalpan ki har hadon se paar. Is qadar beyhadh ki tumhari rooh...
I'm extremely sorry for the delay, I was caught up >>>>
And here's the ⚠️reminder⚠️, my MMC is an anti-hero red flag-morally grey not some lovey dovey. So if you were expecting that, then you are not at the right place <<<<
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Aarav's pov Taking a long sniff from the mug of hot coffee, a wide grin etches across the blonde haired girl aka my only and annoying friend. Best friend is what she says. Looking past the coffee mug, her gaze wavers to me with an impressed gleam on which I just roll my eyes. "How did it go ?" Her greenish brown eyes in the meantime skims across the paper in her hand as she shoots the question.
She doesn't need to see my research of hours of how to accomplish a successful date.
"I planned it " I chastise, fanning my hand animatedly. "It had to be terrific." My eyes narrow at her frame and I pawky slither closer to her. However before I could snatch the paper away, she made a run to the adjacent couch.
And as for consequence, I let out a loud grunt when I landed flat on my face on the sofa. Fuck! Meanwhile Mishti took a good moment to process the scene and then burst into shrieks of laughter.
Why is she even here!?
"I actually didn't expect you to make notes from Google." Once the laughter subsided, she interjected. "Did you even follow it ?" To hide her smile from my glaring eyes, she ducked her head low to sip on the coffee, which I agreed to make for her after so many tantrums.
Her ass is lucky to get served by Aarav Oberio's coffee.
"I did." Her eyebrows shot up, giving me a dubious look. "Initially." I clarified, heightening the curiosity of the already curious girl. "I didn't pull her a chair since she didn't accept my hand when I opened the door for her."
A scowl repleted on her face, her head shook in chagrin. "Jerk." Whatever. I shot her a glare, my shoulders shrugging up in a nonchalance. "Āpanāra tathākathita igōra cikiṯsā karā darakāra."
(That so-called ego of yours needs to be treated.)
Although I didn't understand a word, but her face was saying it all. So, I just ignored her retort.
Taking needed breaths, Mishti strives to keep her composure. "But on a serious note, you know right this date and all won't fix everything ?"
"That's why you are here. You are Bengali right !?" My intention was to divert the topic and it actually worked when she gnashed her teeth together.
"I don't do black magic, asshole." She sneered.
"Ofcourse, you can't. You aren't even a proper Bengali." Emphasising, I smirked, finding Mishti, who was already exhausted from the jet lag, getting pissed. "Angrezi khoon."
