Naina dragged two large plastic bags full of snacks on the road as if they had wheels under them. She knew that she had overstocked, but she couldn't help seeing rows of colorful snacks and an access to a billionaire's credit card. When the supermarket staff had swiped the card and she punched in her birthdate which was his password, she felt her joy evaporate and leave emptiness behind. Naina always perceived herself as someone shameless who could kill for money, but suddenly, she felt guilty even spending her husband's money.

"Damn it, should have come in a car," she muttered to herself as a can of coca cola dropped from the bag, rolling down the road till it hit the shoe of a skinny man. The skeleton man was dressed in his loose rags and jeans with a cap lowered that covered his protruding eyes and pointy nose. Naina, unbothered about her life, waited for him to give the can to her in the dark street.

Bony fingers gripped the can and stretched towards her, before Naina could take it from him, she noticed blood underneath his nails.

"Naina!" A familiar voice called out, followed by a honk. "Why didn't you ask the driver to accompany you?" The skeleton man disappeared as fast as Mr India, leaving a perplexed Naina facing her husband in his Mercedes. Ahanay immediately got down, forcefully taking the bags from her even when she refused. Noticing her stubbornly scowling face, he frowned, that sexy frown of his. "What happened to my little demon? Are you upset that my business trip took long?"

"I'm upset you came back," Naina thought, not uttering a word.

Sighing, he wrapped his free hand around her waist, pulling her to his car and opening the backseat. To her surprise, the entire backseat resembled a little garden with bright bouquets of flowers in all shades of colour that could ever exist. Was he starting some gardening business?

"These are all for you," he said, a handsome smile curving his lips.

"I will kill Naina, I promise you. Just give me a couple of more days. I need to earn her trust, buy her some flowers, show her some love." Oh God, the recording was coming true.

"I hate flowers," Naina lied, slamming the door shut.

"I have got you more stuff---"

"I don't need any of it," she cut him off cruelly.

"Alright," he breathed, his nostrils flaring in irritation. "We'll talk about this at home. Get in the car."

"No."

"I didn't ask," he said, quickly sweeping her off her feet and for a second, Naina thought this was it. He would throw her down the road to crack her head open. It would take him minutes to dispose of her body, and nobody would come to look for her. Naina had chainsawed her relationships with her parents and friends, she had only Ahanay left. And he wanted to kill her.

To her surprise, he hurled her inside the car instead of down the road and firmly shut the door. Naina noticed a father and a daughter walking at a distance and was pulled into an epiphany- of course, he couldn't kill her in front of them. As she felt her body relax, the fragrance of flowers from the backseat was making her drowsy. There was something special mixed in that fragrance otherwise...

"I'm sorry, I had to do this," Ahanay's words echoed in her ears as he closed her eyes.

* * *

Ohas pocketed his hands as he strode across the street, ignoring women in skimpy clothes under the streetlights, trying to pull him into one of those dingy rooms to show him a good time. In his mind, montages of Priya played like a movie, her sitting by the table, her making tea for him, her standing naked on her toes and kissing him. He adjusted his pants at the last image, walking stiffly to the brothel.

Just as he turned the corner, he found Rama, whom he had appointed as the manager of his brothel, talking to a familiar figure. The streetlights flickered like the stars above, revealing glimpses of the angelic face. Feeling a sudden urgent tension rise within him, he quickly strode towards and grabbed her wrist.

"Why are you speaking with her?" Ohas demanded, squeezing Priya's wrist.

"She said she had a job for me," Priya said, her soft features contorting in pain. "That hurts... Leave me."

"A job? What do you need a job for? And here?"

"Why do I need a job?" She questioned, scoffing and snatching her wrist back as her nostrils flared in snobbish pride. Ohas couldn't figure out whether she looked more attractive or annoying. Annoyingly attractive. "I need a job so whenever I kiss you, I'm not mistaken for a prostitute."

"You're signing up to be a prostitute here," Ohas said through gritted teeth, his cat eyes flashing to the manager and freezing her on the spot. "She recruits stupid, young women like you to work in the brothel."

"Brothel?" She appeared a little shaken as she tried to stand her ground. "She told me there's a job of a... receptionist."

"That's what she'll tell you," he said cynically, malicious anger rising in him like the first waves of a tsunami. He wanted to destroy her so she would never come close to him. That way, she would remain safe. "How do I know this? I trained her. I own this brothel, angel."

Ohas was waiting for the look of disgust, the look of spite, the look that made him feel like a vermin to be eradicated.

"Great. So I'm not getting a job," she said instead, throwing a bored look at the manager. "I'm going to eat dinner at home. You can join." Noticing the surprised look on Ohas' face, she threw another bored look. "Don't worry, I won't kiss you. You're safe."

Safe? Ohas almost laughed wryly at the irony, at her pure nonchalance that he owned a brothel. Instead, she was inviting him over again for dinner.

As they walked next to each other in silence, Ohas took a glance at her pretty face glowing softly under the moonlight and asked, "Are you afraid of me?"

"Why should I be?" She countered, more from genuine enquiry than sarcasm.

He was at a complete loss for words. "I can kill you."

"I'm not afraid of death anymore. It's living that's scary."

"I can put you in the brothel. Make good use of you."

"You still didn't," she said, not bothering to dwell over his words as if he said something trivial. "You saved me from it."

"I did not," Ohas said defensively and to his surprise, Priya laughed. Her laughter was as angelic as her voice, light and feminine as if she was being tickled with a feather. It soon stopped and for the rest of the walk, he drowned in silence.

She unlocked the door in the dark corridor after multiple attempts and went straight to the kitchen to heat the food. Ohas stepped into her dark apartment, not switching the lights and enjoying how the silvery moonlight illuminated the little room with a gentle gleam. She looked paler in the moonlight as if she had just descended from heaven when she emerged into the living room and set a big, hot pot on the table. When she opened the lid, steam drifted above to reveal the cheap chowmein noodles of a local restaurant. 

"I don't want to do extra dishes," she said as she handed him a fork, implying that he had to share with her from the pot. He didn't mind as they both took a seat, digging into the food. "I want to live in a house that looks like my old room." Her lips glistened from the oily noodles as she spoke, a strand of her silky hair sticking to the corner. "Before we got bankrupt, I had a room with purple walls and a white dressing table." Ohas didn't say anything, struggling to eat the noodles with the fork that slipped in between. Priya smiled and said, "Look here. You need to twirl the fork in the noodles and lift it. Like this."

Ohas followed her movements like an obedient student, twirling the noodles till they wrapped perfectly around the fork and shoved it in his mouth.

"I'm looking for jobs," she continued, not caring whether he was responding to her or not. Ohas could hear her loneliness echoing with each word she spoke, the same interminable loneliness that would echo in his mind as he pushed through crowds during the day and struggled to sleep alone at night. "I have no qualifications or experience."

"You did not study?" He asked, curious that a rich girl wouldn't have gotten a fancy degree that Naina had coveted all along.

"I was meant to marry." She picked out the vegetables that Ohas didn't touch, leaving the noodles for him. He could notice how weary she appeared with her shoulders that now sagged a little, her t-shirt that wrinkled and the careless neckline that showed the lace of her bra. He recalled when he had seen her initially, properly dressed like a rich and elegant madame. "I'm looking for a job as a receptionist or in a salon..."

She continued explaining her plans in different roles, weighing the pros and cons without asking for any opinion from Ohas who knew not to intervene. As the last bits of the noodles disappeared, both of them instinctively reached to lift the pot, their hands grasping each other's. Their eyes connected through the moonlit darkness, and Ohas felt a chill; her ethereal beauty, beaten from all the gloom, now felt familiar. In despair, they understood each other.

* * *

A/N:

We're at fifty chapters! Who do you like more- Naina and Ahanay or Priya and Ohas?

(Tap on the little star if you're liking this story :))