COMPLETING EACH OTHER

CHAPTER 27

ADHWETA SINGH'S POV:

It had been two weeks since I had allowed myself to look at him and right now, it is resulting in my eyes disobeying me. It almost feels like as if my eyes and the rest of my body have two separate brains instead of sharing one. And as to my hormones well, they seemed to have found the chemicals which makes them bounce like crazy. Who needs dopamine when you can have a tall, muscular man clad in a white shirt with sleeves folded at the elbows and fitted trousers stretching over his muscular thighs, with feet crossed at the ankles leaning against the door staring at you with relief and amusement.

If I were to arrive at a place with dark circles under my eyes and with my 'just removed my monkey cap' hair, people will probably call the zoo authorities and ask them to collect the supposedly on the run chimpanzee but look at this man, he looks like as if Manish Malhotra has himself styled his look and he is just about to walk on the ramp. Or another reason could be that since I have fallen in love with him, I have gone blind and he will look good to me irrespective of whether he is digging his nose or committing a murder.

The thing which brought my distracted mind back on track was a chuckle. But not just any chuckle it was Deven Singh Rajput's chuckle. He bloody has the audacity to chuckle whereas I have been struggling to lift the corners of my lips in a straight line from the downward curve they seem to be stuck in. And mind it, I happen to crack a glass not a joke and he is chuckling.

But wait what is he doing here ? no wait, what am I doing here ?

Looking down I found my answer in the broken pieces of the glasses. I am here to pick the thorns in his life but before that I will have to pick these pieces of glasses.

Picking up a small tray I started to bend down but before my fingers could touch the first piece, my hand got engulfed in another bigger and manly one. Giving my hand a squeeze, he got up and pulled me up along with him.

Taking another cup he did something with the machine and magically delivered a steaming cup of latte. Taking four to five tissues he wrapped it around the cup and placed it in my hands.

" If you stop fighting the owner and everything he owns you'll realize that rather than getting on your nerves they are trying to get into your heart."

Is the coffee so hot that the heat is travelling through my hands to my heart and making it melt.....because I swear it feels like it is slipping from its place. And in reply to this I simply sipped my coffee and realized that .......the sugar is less ?

Taking another sachet of sugar I tore it open and added to my cup.

"Of course you'll need more sugar for more energy to fight."

"And then they ask you to stop fighting." I murmured loud enough to be only heard by myself.

Taking a cloth from a rack, he bent down and started to pick the pieces of glass. Keeping my cup aside I also bend down and said, " Leave it, I'll do it. I was the one who broke the glass let me clean it." As soon as I went to pick a piece he slapped my hands away.

"No, don't touch it you'll get hurt. I 'll do it."

"No I will do it."

"Why are you so stubborn ? leave it."

"No I'll ....ahhh...."

"See that is why I told you to not touch it. Look so much blood is coming out."

Picking up a bunch of tissues he pressed them against my hand and took out some ice from the mini fridge. After wiping away all the blood, he gently moved the ice cubes over the area where I had cut myself. All this while, I took in the way his eyebrows were furrowed with worry, the concentration with which he was tending to me and the way he was blowing on my wound from time to time.