Panic. I feel it as soon as I register the dip in the empty space beside me. The sheets on that end are cold to the touch. My fingers curl inward as the outgrown nails - or one can call them kitten claws - create a scratching noise on the cotton sheets. I turn on my back and stare at the ceiling, thinking. Thoughts are scary, I have a fear of getting lost in them. What if I am too deep to come back to the surface?

Samarth will pull you up.

The thought came unbridled, rendering me unarmed and vulnerable. I cover my arms in front of my body and roll over on my side again, already feeling better. Another emotion accompanies the aforementioned. The feeling of my independence getting snatched is too heavy to bear. In a quick motion, I get off the bed, committed to confront the man and tell him it was a mistake.

Without putting the slippers on, I speedwalk through the flat. As I outstretch my hand and touch the doorknob, the sizzling sound from the kitchen reaches me. My hand hangs midair before it starts shaking. With the stealth of a thief, I pad back to the entryway of the kitchen. Hiding my body behind the wall, I lean over and peep inside. Samarth is cooking a full-course meal it seems. Sweet. Not.

This piece of shit!

As if he heard my inner monologue, he turns and I take a dive to hide. Stupidly enough, I dived to the other side which means that he clearly saw me jumping like a monkey on the floor. Worse, my feet are peeking from behind the wall, I can feel it as my toe moves. Wall. No wall.

"Mihir, what are you doing?" Samarth questions me or more probably my sanity. I don't answer. Aabra ka Dabra, I murmur but the ground doesn't open up to swallow me whole. "Mihir."

I keep my mouth glued shut. Nonetheless, a giggle escapes me once he touches the sole of my left foot with his toe. In an abrupt motion, I stand up straight, startling him in the process. He raises a prying eyebrow at me. I fumble for words before settling on "I was catching a mouse! They nibbled on clothes last year." He doesn't believe it at all. The telltale is there in the way his other eyebrow raises as well, both of them soaring high together to almost reaching his hairline. The excuse is so stupid that even I would not believe myself if I were in his place.

"With bare hands?"

"Yes," I say with the confidence of a lying man. "You! You...uh...what were you doing?"

"Making an omelette."

I peer over his shoulder and then back at him. "Without eggs?"

"I am learning innovative ways to do tasks these days. From you, obviously. You seem like a master of that wizardry." 

The subtle art of not giving a fuck about taunting the guy you kissed the night before, he seems to be the master of that but I do not tell him that. I want it to be the forgotten kiss. I purse my lips and move on from the topic. "Well, I do not like eggs."

"Is that so?"

 "Mmm hmm. What else do you have for me?" I despise how my voice came out to be flirty. Heart, please be in cahoots - cahoots, love that word - with the mind.

"Chhole, puri and halwa."

I push past him and prance toward the area where two lid-covered dishes are kept. One by one, I lift the top off and inhale gulps of the heavenly aroma wafting from Chhole ki sabzi and Halwa. His chuckle draws me out of my food haze. And God if he did not look like a sexy fictional main character leaning against the wall, ankles and arms crossed. I always imagined myself to be standing in his place when I read those books. It is astounding how life has a way of surprising you.

"Are you done?"

"Yes. What about you?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Are you done getting amused?"

Letting out a short laugh, he shoo me out. "Puri will be ready in a few minutes, set the table and I will bring it over."

How homely! Trudging towards the coffee table, I lay a newspaper on it and retrace my steps back to the kitchen to get the crockery and two glasses. Switching on the television, I change channels until I find Hera Pheri - a legendary comedy movie in Indian cinema - telecasting on one of the channels. 

Once he arrives holding two dishes, I get up to help him carry the rest. We settle on the opposite sofas and enjoy the food and the movie. At times we dub the dialogue along with the actors on the TV. We lose track of time as we immerse ourselves in the movie, our dirty dishes lie on the table, now dry.

The clock hits two in the afternoon when we lift our heads to look at the clock. Cleaning the table, we sit back in our designated spots and switch the channel to sports. After half an hour, Samarth lowers the volume to be a background noise and clears his throat.

"I have to discuss with you something important." On pins and needles, I wait for him to drop the bombshell. "Who do I have to pay my rent to? I mean if the caretaker shows up to collect the payment, he would know."

I deflate like a balloon in my seat. "Ever heard of UPI payment?" my voice comes out as a sneer. "Sorry."

"What has gotten into you?" His words trigger a memory.

"Good. That's because I am into you."

"Not yet."

Our interaction from last night begins to play on repeat at the forefront of my mind. My nerves spike because anytime now we would be talking about it. Maybe he is embarrassed or is unable to bring it to the table in a comfortable manner.

"Mihir!" His voice jolts me.

"I. That. Nothing. Sleepy." For good measure, I yawn.

"You can go sleep if you want to."

"It's cool."

"How many years have it been for you in this city?"

"Three."

The conversation switches to our college days, his were spent in the majestic city of Pune and mine was spent in the city of lakes, Udaipur. It was him rambling mostly and I was half paying attention to his words. Minutes pass and he is yet to bring up the kiss from yesterday.

"...neaked in. There it was, a giant pool with water as blue as m..."

Why is he not mentioning it?

"And then we all threw him into the principal's pool. I mean dayum...you should..."

I squint my eyes at him, trying my best to figure him out. I wonder what his intentions are. I could not have daydreamed the touch of his lips. You don't feel magic every day and once you do, you remember it for a lifetime. Lucky people even die with the magical memories, given that they did not turn bitter.

"...caught. There was a snitch among us. You would not be-"

"Samarth, I think you were right about going back to sleep. I'll take a nap."

The reluctance on his face is clear as day. Usually, I would give him a choice if he wanted to stay over but today I did not. I do not care what he makes of it. If we are not going to acknowledge the elephant in the room, these small things will have to be done to show him my stance on the matter.

He exits without wasting time, his or mine.

On Monday evening, getting rid of the pest named Samarth Sharma was a daunting task and I had a job in pest control. Is there pest control in India? Will they help me eliminate him? I merely want him out of my life. Alas, not facing him will not be much useful. There is no telling that there won't be another guy. I have come to terms with the truth and it is harsh. On more occasions than one, I find myself mulling over my romantic choices, my feelings, and on odd days, about his nonchalance about whatever is going on between the two of us.  

Bedlam Spectrum.

It is not a spell. It is a name I gave to my current life situation. The midpoint arch of my story. Since Samarth came into my life, bulldozing past all the defenses, pushing me to acknowledge that maybe there is more to monochromatic Mihir. With so many emotions colliding together and challenging the books I have read, beliefs I have followed and principles I walked on, I am in a constant state of confusion. Not finding it fancy enough, I chose 'Bedlam.' But my confusion does not end there, what confuses me most is why I did not have an extreme reaction to my discovery of myself like many other typical Indian males. Or sigma males. Another thing that is equally perplexing is my position on the spectrum. If I am one of those people, then where do I stand?

Spectrum is not just a wide range of people from different backgrounds or interests as Google says, there is way more to every tiny particle that makes it.

A whole new world.

An alternate universe.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Word count: 1532

And I successfully finished the 'Just Write It 8-chapter challenge'. A very special thanks to mygoodbones for helping me figure out a very important part of this challenge.

Vote your love and comment your thoughts :)

Love,

April Skyes (Appy)