𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 1
"You... just left my room! I don't want to see your ugly face again, you..." He said ferociously, clenches his fists and his face turns red with rage. He takes a step toward her.
without uttering a word, she quietly exits the room, her...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Words:-1500+
___________________________
Raha's pov
As I indulged in the sweet delight of the cotton candy the old man had given me, I couldn't help but relish its comforting taste. Despite my inner resolve not to acknowledge his kindness with a simple "thank you," I couldn't deny the warmth his gesture brought. My thoughts were interrupted as the car came to a halt at a red light. Glancing outside, I couldn't help but notice the mundane beauty of the moment-the stillness of the traffic, the soft glow of the streetlights. In that fleeting pause, I found myself appreciating the old man's quiet consideration, realizing that perhaps he wasn't so bad after all.
As a boy approached with gajras, I felt a pang of longing. It had been ages since I'd worn them, even though it wasn't for a big event like a wedding. The old man said he didn't want them, but I did. My heart sank as he didn't ask me. I wanted to stop the boy, but I didn't know how. My heart was breaking-I really wanted those gajras.
"Do you want this, Raha?" the old man asked, breaking the tension with the little kid. "Yes," I blurted out, unable to resist. "Then give her one," the old man instructed the boy, who handed it over. With a thrill, I accepted the gajra. Excitedly, I tore open the paper and wrapped it around my wrist like a bracelet. It felt like heaven-I loved wearing it this way.
"What is this?" I heard the little boy exclaim, confused by the old man's actions. Slapping my forehead in disbelief, I couldn't believe the old man was offering his black card to pay for the gajras. Was he out of his mind? How could he think it was acceptable to pay on the street like this? He clearly needed to brush up on his street smarts.
"I don't have cash," the old man admitted, but I wasn't about to give back my precious gajras.
"Wait, I have a check," he exclaimed, adding to my embarrassment. First, he offered his card, now a check! I cringed as I noticed the little boy stifling a laugh at his expense. Feeling mortified, I rummaged through my purse, praying I had some change to spare.
"Here, take this," I said, offering the money to the little boy. However, the old man swiftly snatched it from my hand, leaving me in shock. There was no way I was going to let him take my gajras from me.
"I will pay, Raha, you don't need to," he insisted.
"How? You don't even have cash, and this isn't a 5 or 7-star hotel where you can pay with your black card!" I retorted angrily, but he just laughed at me.
"Sorry, baby girl, I won't be able to pay for you today, but from now on, I'll always carry cash," he said with a cringe-worthy smile.
After the traffic light turned green, indicating it was time to go, he smoothly accelerated the car forward. I sat beside him, holding the delicate gajras in my hand, feeling their softness and taking in their sweet scent. It was a simple pleasure, one that brought a smile to my face.
