Posted August 28th, 2018

✤ Sanya: 1.12 two can cuddle ✤

I look back when the voices around me quieten and I find Rihaan holding a friend of his, Faisal, by the collars. "How dare you? Who the hell do you think you are to talk about her, huh? I..."

"Rihaan!" I instantly walk over to him and put my hands on his arms trying to pull him away from Faisal - caring more about him than my nerves pulsing furiously from having to approach a possible dangerous situation by getting in between two people fighting. "Ri, leave him! What's wrong with you? Punching your own friends..."

Rihaan leaves his collars, but his gaze remains fixated on Faisal. Blood is starting to ooze out of his nose, "He's no friend of mine. Anyone who talks shit about you is no friend of mine."

Faisal looks back with anger, "You, asshole. Now you're going to punch me because of her? You've known her for one day, and you're going to pick her over us?!"

"Get your facts right, atleast." Rihaan corrected him in a mutter. "I've known her my whole life, so yes, asshole, I will pick her over you guys. I will pick her over everyone else, always."

I speak again, fighting my instinct to dwell in his words. My hand on his arm feels tiny. "Rihaan, please. Let it be. It's not a big deal. Don't fight with your friends because of me." I did not want to be the reason behind this.

He glances down in surprise. "Not a big deal? How can you say that? You don't even know what they were saying about you."

I insist, "It doesn't matter. It's not worth getting a detention."

A clueless teacher steps into the classroom, "What's going on here?" Everyone else quickly take their seats but we're still glued to our spots. She exclaims at Faisal's bloody nose, "Faisal, what happened to you?!"

He answers saving Rihaan from getting in trouble, "Nothing, miss. I just tripped. I didn't have my shoe laces tied."

She gives him a disappointing look, "You should be more careful, Faisal. Now go to the school nurse."

"Yes, miss." He leaves, and in the past months, I did notice this about his friends. They weren't the kindest, but they weren't bad guys either. They do consider Rihaan their friend, and I don't know what happened that Rihaan would punch one of them, but hopefully they will get past this.

*✧✤--------------------------✤✧*

The classes tick by slowly and finally it is lunch time. Rihaan sat in the back at his seat, but he wasn't in his jovial mood. He wasn't talking to anyone either. At lunch bell, even his friends get up and leave the classroom while he continues to sit there. Given that Kriana wasn't here, I wasn't planning on leaving the classroom to get lunch either.

Once everyone walks out, I walk to the back of the classroom. I don't say it, but I am sure he can read the concern on my face. He sighs, "I'm not okay."

I give a sympathetic look and sit sideways in the seat in front of him and twist back to look at him. "Talk about it?"

He shakes his head and I let it be. Usually, I am the one answering in nods and shakes. I open the lunch box to reveal the aloo parathas and fried rice. I forward the parathas to him, keeping the rice for myself. I very well know his preference of parathas over rice.

A few bites later, he breaks his silence. "I'm so sorry, San."

"For what?" I glance up from the lunch box, halting the spoon to my mouth mid-way.

He questions back, "Is this how they've been treating you since I've been gone?"

I understand what he's talking about. "Uh, no... Kriana. You know she wouldn't let them get by with it if she heard it, so..."

He argues. "It doesn't make it okay to let them get by with it, San."

"Maybe, but ... does - does it matter what they say about me be-behind my back? It doesn't change who I am." I put my perspective forward, because it's true. They can name-call me and pass whatever judgements they want. They can try to bully me but it isn't as if I will fall for that. "I... know who I am and I am not looking... f-for their approval. If that's how they are, I don't need them to be my friends either."

He argues, "It's not even about that. It's about showing some basic humanity. Bullying? It's wrong. It's a crime."

I shrug my shoulders in response. He is right, and it may be wrong of me to not take a stand for myself, but I honestly do not feel the need to waste my energy in this. I'll graduate from this place shortly. I won't be in this school forever. It does not hold that much of an importance in my life.

I have all the friends I need in my cousins Arshiya and Kriana.

This emotional and verbal bullying can't get to me when I know I am loved by my family. This is just an immature phase in life as a teenager that will be over soon.

He makes it known, "You can choose to let it be, but I'm certainly not going to forget about it as quickly." I look at him, wanting to argue, but I see the determination in his eyes just before he fixes his attention on the paratha again. "I never should have left." He mumbles regretfully.

I remember his confession yesterday. It does touch me that he cares about me enough to not want to hurt me, but even I would agree. Leaving was not the answer. Still, we are all humans. We have flaws. We go with our first instinct. They are not always the right thing to do. As such, our actions aren't always based on right or wrong. It's what feels right in the moment, before reasoning catches up to us. Before it caught up to him, he had already made the decision to leave. So, could I really hold him responsible for this?

No.

In a quiet voice, I ask. "Do you know what hurt more?"

He glances up, eyes locking with mine. My insides were a mess of twists and knots having this real conversation. It is scary to admit how one really feels.

Blinking away, the spoon in my hand playing around with the rice, I express. "It was that you never once... c-called or texted. You... you were completely avoiding me and I know... I know before we haven't had one too many conversations, but... I still... thought we were friends."

"We are, San. I know there is a lot to make up for and I really am sorry. I had no intention of making you feel that. I didn't know how to face you. I thought about texting you so many times..."

My voice comes out low, "But you didn't."

There is a saying. It's the thought that counts. But, no. In this situation and I am sure in many others as well, it is not just the thought that counts. As another saying goes, actions speak louder than words. Sometimes, the actual action makes a difference too - things that did not happen when they should have.

He admits hanging his head in shame, "Yeah... I should have."

I honestly do not know how to feel about this. I don't want him to feel too bad because I did mean what I said yesterday. His heart was in the right place and he should not be too hard on himself. At our age, we are not wired to be making the perfect decisions. We all get scared and swept up in that fear, we make reckless decisions that we come to regret later.

One point is though, I did voice out a part of my feelings honestly. I told him how I felt of his action.

That, in itself, is victory for me.

It is one step further than yesterday.

My therapist would be proud of me.

*✧✤--------------------------✤✧*

I make my way out of my elective class - which I had chosen to be art, ofcourse. It was the one time in school when I felt myself calm and focused. No ounce of anxiety coursing through my veins. One time when I wasn't having irrational fears about what others were thinking about me. Around colors is the one place where I always feel safe from any form of judgement.

I stumble back a step when a hard body jabs into my shoulder while walking past me. I look back to see Faisal glaring daggers my way. "Watch it, bitch."

The word sends a pang to my chest. I try to not react but it does bother me.

I lower my gaze and attempt to walk the other way. Unfortunately, my path is blocked by him. I keep my gaze low, fisting my palms to keep my anxiety in check and just focus on my breathing.

He seethes through clenched teeth in anger, "Don't think you're going to get away with it."

Get away with what? I didn't do anything. I didn't say anything. What had I said wrong?

He takes a step towards me basking in my fear. I take two back feeling threatened. I have heard of things being said about me thus far but it was the first time he, or anyone, confronted me. And it triggered my social phobia full on. My fist tightened till I could feel my nails start to dig into my skin and I was afraid it would draw blood.

"You'll get what's coming for you."

In a threatening world where it was just Faisal and me and I hadn't been focusing on anyone else, I suddenly feel a blanket of safety when a hand envelops around my fist and tucks it back, hiding my shaking fist away from everyone's prying eyes.

Rihaan's voice may reflect of anger but his touch on my hand is the stark opposite. "Back off, Faisal. Before I make you regret it."

Faisal scoffs before muttering, "Whatever," and walks off though I have a feeling it is not over.

Rihaan rounds around to stand in front of me instead of next to me. His voice changes to that of concern, "Are you okay?"

I hear him but am unable to reply. My eyes seem to want to focus on the passing by students who spare us a glance - obviously having witnessed everything.

What are they thinking about me? They're probably judging me. It can't be anything good. They probably hate me. They...

I blink the daze away when his voice reaches my ears again, "Let's go."

Go? Where?

Though feeling numb on the inside and unable to wrap my head around what just happened, I let him pull me away from the school building and towards the parking lot to his car. He opens the back door for me and steps aside to let me in.

With my body on auto-pilot, I slide inside and then scoot over so he can get in as well instead of walking around. Once inside and he closes the door, the driver swiftly begins to drive.

Seat belt. I should put it on.

"Forget about it," he says when I look in the direction and moves himself to sit in the middle of the seat to wrap his arm around my shoulder, pulling my side to his body. His other hand touches my fist and I glance down at it.

The warmth instantly radiates to my skin. Or maybe it's the fact that he forces a thumb in my palm to uncoil my fingers from still digging into my palm. The fact that he is very observant is what spreads warmth inside. I don't want to fight him but if I unclench my first, I am afraid I will set off a full-blown panic attack.

At my hesitance, he adds a verbal instruction as if understanding my fear. "Let go, San. I'm here now."

Yes. Yes, he is here. I can feel his arm around my shoulder pulling half my back to his chest to hold me.

I fight back the tears with some furious blinking and listen. Slowly, I stop fighting him. He manages to pull open my fist and though I feel my breathing return to normal, his takes a hike on noticing the imprint of my nails on my pale skin as blood rushes in.

I try to hide it by closing my palm again but not in a fist this time.

Still, his thumb nudges my fingers away before caressing the imprints as if to take the pain away. Every time, I become more and more familiar with how he doesn't like to see me in pain. How he doesn't like me hurting.

I find myself saying, "Thank you."

For what exactly? Coming to my rescue there? Asking Faisal to leave me alone? Being here for me? Caring for me? I don't know in particular. Just that I needed to respond with something for the way he looks out for me and I did not know what else to say other than those two words.

He covers my pain with his, hiding the imprint of my nails digging into my skin, and before long, intertwines our hands. It reminds me of the first time he did something similar almost a year ago when we were all watching a movie in the home theater and we'd shared a blanket. It feels like I should react to it somehow, him holding my hand... and yet, that is not that causes something to stir in my stomach. 

It's what he says.

"Always," he answers in a voice laced with some emotion that compels me to turn my head up to look sideways at him. 

I knew he would be close given he is sitting next to me but I still blink in surprise but unable to shift my head back. Our eyes lock and it takes me a few seconds to recognize the emotion. Guilt. He still feels guilty and holds himself responsible for this. The verbal digs my way. The bullying.

And yet, his words sound like proof to the promise he made yesterday that he'd never leave me again. Today, being there by my side when I needed it, he's even started to follow through on that promise - not just say it.

I wish he'd know it's not his fault but I know... He won't believe it no matter how many times I say that to him. He has to come to terms in his own time to forgive himself.

*✧✤--------------------------✤✧*

After changing out of the school uniform, a lot more in control of my anxiety after the long car drive, I walk back towards the kitchen. "Aunty, can I help with anything?"

Riddhima turns at my voice and pushes a plate of food in front of me, "Yes, eat up."

I chuckle and take a sit at the high chair off the half-wall. She loves feeding everyone, that's a fact. It's her habit to cook a lot of food when something is stressful for her. I imagine it must be one of her hospital cases again.

Rihaan yells from top of the stairs, "Mom! Where's my grey gym shorts?"

Riddhima sighs shaking her head and mutters, "Iss ladke ka kuch nai hoga." Then she yells back, "Stop being picky and wear whatever you find!" Rihaan says something we don't catch, but about a minute later, he runs down the stairs. She scolds him, "You, mister, really need to learn to do your own chores."

Rihaan chuckles without humor, "Yeah, sure."

I suppose it's just one of the guy things. Even if something is right in front of their eyes, they won't see it until it is pointed out.

"By the way, you promised to help me catch up in science class. I have so many pending assignments."

Riddhima taunts, "That's what you get for dropping school and going on a tour with your dad."

I've always loved this relationship he shares with his parents. As if they are all equal and his parents aren't older than him. If you ask me, it's adorable.

Rihaan grumbles, stealing a garlic bread from my plate. "Can we drop the taunts? We've already established it was a mistake. Now, if you don't want me to fail and repeat a year, please help? I'm your only son."

His mother laughs at him, "Unfortunately. And stop stealing food from Sanya's plate. Get your own. Let the poor girl eat. Seriously, both you and your dad. Even he kept stealing my food growing up."

Chewing through a morsel, he comments. "I'm a growing person, mom. I need food. Is it my fault that you prefer to feed her over me?"

She glares at him while I continue to watch their back and forth banter in amusement. "I didn't say I'm picking her over you! Stop putting words in my mouth. And you know what, so what if I pick her over you? Atleast she respects me unlike you. She doesn't trouble me, and she certainly doesn't go around failing classes."

He rolls his eyes, "I haven't failed yet."

"Well then, you can fail for all I care. It'll teach you a much-deserved lesson."

He walks over, draping his arms around her shoulder and front, reminding me of last night in the parking lot. He'd hugged me, if you could even call it that. He did hug me once before but that was when I was hurt and he was apologizing and I don't even think he'd realized then what he was doing.

He pleads while bringing on his charm, "Mumma, please na. You can't do this to your only son. You know how science is so not my thing."

She slaps his wrist, "Get off me, you little emotional blackmailer." When she does manage to free herself, she comments. "How is science not your thing? It should be like in your genes."

She was a well-known doctor, after all. Even his dad was in medical school before he opted to take his singer career full time. His grandfather, Riddhima's dad, is a successful doctor as well and his grandmother used to be a nurse. So yeah, she may be very well speaking the truth. Science should be a cake walk for him.

"And anyway, in all seriousness, I'm sorry but I can't help you tonight. I have a night shift at the hospital."

"You can help me now."

She questions rhetorically. "And who is going to make dinner for all of us? Great Chef Rihaan?"

For the first time in last ten minutes, I speak up. "I can help you."

Both look at me, as if having forgotten I was even in the room. I don't blame them. I had been super quiet. Riddhima grins in relief, "See, problem solved. Thanks, honey. You're the best."

Rihaan questions still in surprise, "You'll help?"

I point out, "I do have the same science class, you know?" He left for three months, I didn't. "I can help after I unpack a bit?"

He nods in agreement and I go back to eating as he and his mother discuss the details of when his father is returning and meeting us directly at Jhanvi's palace for the wedding.

*✧✤--------------------------✤✧*

I knock on his room door after I have settled in. The door was left open so I spot him on his bed with his phone in his hand. He sits up seeing me. "So, study downstairs?" I ask while thinking the dining table would be perfect.

He suggests otherwise, "We can study here."

"Here?"

He puts his phone away on the side table and nods, "Mhmm. I always study in here."

I awkwardly walk inside his room. I haven't been here in over three months. I can't help but recall that night. In his washroom closet where he'd started a conversation with me. On the bed where he'd asked me how he looked and how close he had been to me. Against the door where he'd locked the waistband around me and whispered how he'd missed me.

I snap at myself to not lose myself in those memories as they'll only make this more awkward. My eyes dart towards his table against the wall adjacent to the door.

He walks to the desk as well and pulls out a textbook from the organized stack. I imagine the only reason it is organized is because he must have not touched his books all these months he was away.

I expect him to sit there and I take a step in the direction as well when he carries the book back to bed.

What? He wants to study there?

I do agree that studying in bed is much more comfortable but will he get any studying done? Will he be able to focus? And even putting all that aside... I felt nervous.

On seeing that I stand there in the middle of the room, his gaze flickers to mine in confusion. "Are you going to teach me this while standing?"

"Are you sure you don't want to study downstairs?"

"Quite sure," he answers and opens his chemistry textbook. "Now, come on. Sit. I don't bite."

I exhale a bundle of nerves and walk over to sit at the edge of the bed opposite him.

*✧✤--------------------------✤✧*

"Okay, see, hydrogen bond is the strongest intermolecular attraction – but weaker than covalent or ionic."

He groans, "Wait, how can it be strong if its weaker than both the other types of bonding?"

I sigh. We have been on this the last half hour and he understood the positive and negative charges and that was about it. "You really just need to read the book. Understand the definitions. You're making this so much more difficult than it is."

"I did try!" He exclaims.

"From the top then, three types of bonds."

He nods, naming them. "Covalent, Hydrogen, and Ionic."

"Right, and remember it like this. Co from covalent means two, so they're two atoms that share electrons. Ionic... think of irony. They sound similar enough, right? They're oppositely charged ions." I am making this up as I go so I can only hope I don't sound weird.

"But wait, didn't you say hydrogen bonds are oppositely charged?"

Oh, this is going to be a long night.

Three hours later, I finally have him working on balancing chemical equations. He gets a lot of them wrong at first but eventually starts getting the hang of it. He takes his time doing it and I don't realize when I doze off laying on his bed on my stomach. As I said, studying on the bed was so much comfortable then at the study table.

It's how I've always studied in my room – being a homeschooled student earlier. It's one of the things I missed about not having to physically attend school. Otherwise, sitting behind a desk for 6 hours a day? Yeah, no. It cannot be anyone's idea of fun.

*✧✤--------------------------✤✧*

I stir slightly somewhere during the night when I turn from sleeping on my side to sleeping on my stomach and feel tickled. There is something lodged between my bare stomach – courtesy of my shirt riding up and bunching under my breasts – and the mattress.

I faintly hear someone calling my name, but I am too desperate to return to my dream. I pull the blanket up to my chin and snuggle in.

My return to dreamland only lasts roughly two seconds as the object tries to shift from under me. Instantly freaked out, I twist around to the other side and my back crashes against something solid. I think it's the wall, though... where did the wall come from? The bed in my room wasn't up against the wall. Oh well... it's warm. I release a soothing breath and go back to sleep.

*✧✤--------------------------✤✧*

With an alarm clock going off in the far distance, my brows narrow and slowly I am pulled out of sleep in the morning. I try to stretch but feel a something under me and another resting in between my thighs. What? With the realization that they were hands, my eyes flow open.

The first sight it sees is Rihaan's piano in the corner. It's his room. Last night comes back to me. Oh, God. I fell asleep trying to help him understand the assignments.

But... why didn't he wake me up?

My head twists back and his face is right there. My heart leaps in my chest at his proximity.

The slight disturbance in the night. It was his hand and he'd tried to move it but I had only turned to shift closer to him. Beyond mortified, I consider digging myself into a hole right now. How could I have been so sleepy? I'm going to have to do something about these pills I am taking. They keep knocking me out and it can't keep happening!

On feeling something digging against my back, I try to move away by lightly gripping his wrist to move the hand in between my legs. He is pretty much dead weight when asleep so it was easy to slip out without waking him up. I do remember how much it had taken that one time I had to wake him up a year ago.

I can't believe it's been a year.

That was the day I decided to work on my insecurities and then there was today.

Sitting up and putting some distance between us, I am compelled to admire his sleeping face. When I see people doing this in the movies, I find it almost creepy... watching someone while they are sleeping? Yeah, I didn't use to find anything adorable about it. But now... I may start to see its appeal.

It's the one time I can look at him, really look at him, without the worry of being caught. No distractions. No having to look away. No fear.

My hands were really itching to touch the hair on his forehead and push them back. His closed lids hide the blue irises that can have any girl falling for him. I am no different. His right hand is still sprawled out on the bed, the one I had fallen asleep on.

The alarm which had went on snooze starts to ring again, pulling me out of my daze and blinking away. A small grumble escapes his throat as he turns to lay on his back with a frown on his forehead - wishing the sound to disappear.

I lean over him to reach the bedside table for his phone to turn off the alarm. It's also when I notice the time. 6:35 a.m. I have less than half hour to get to school!

Why would this boy have his alarm set for half hour before school? That's nowhere enough time to shower, get dressed, eat and the also consider the travel time.

I rush out of the bed and accidentally slam the door shut on the way to the guest room where I was to be staying for the week. Faintly, I hear him exclaim at the sound. "I'm up!"

A huge smile spreading on my lips, I shake my head. This boy can sometimes be pure amusement.

On entering the washroom, I think back to seconds ago.

I can't believe I woke up sleeping next to him. Wait... correction. I woke up cuddled to him. And god... his hand had been resting between my legs! So close to places which shall not be named.

Even as I brush, I can feel my cheeks flaming up. I glance in the mirror and surely, they're starting to turn red. I try to control it, push back the morning events, and go on with the routine to get dressed.

It's either going to be sacrificing breakfast or shower if I want to make it on time – and I choose to sacrifice a shower. No one is going to know. But, if I don't eat, my loud stomach is going to be announcing it to entire classroom. I am not taking that embarrassing risk.

So, I quickly just wash my face and change. Whoever invented perfumes deserves a huge pat on the back. I throw the tie around my neck, deciding to fix it in the car.

Running down the hallway, I start to pull my hair up in a ponytail. Realizing I don't have my bag, I run back to the room and then dash down to the living room.

I am taking big bites of the toast as I slip on my socks and into shoes before grabbing the blazer. Just then, Rihaan strolls in unfazed, not at all rushed and all dressed looking like perfection. How the hell?

"Good morning," he greets as he pours himself a glass of milk. Then his eyes narrow, "Why are you eating like a starved homeless person?"

I speak through a full mouth, "Don't talk to me right now."

Such unladylike. But, oh well. Least of my concerns right now. Because, it looks like I am choking on my food because I am eating a dry toast with no jam or butter on it. Without giving it a second thought, I grab the glass of milk out of his hands just as it was going to reach his mouth.

He mutters, "Sure, feel free to have my breakfast." He can be sarcastic later for my lack of asking for permission.

I gulp down a huge portion of it, my hand on my chest. He takes out another glass from the cabinet just as I make a face at the tasteless milk and push back my gag reflex. I hate regular. I need it to have some sort of flavor: chocolate, almond, strawberry... Something. "You can have this back." I return the half empty glass to him.

The front door opens and Riddhima Aunty returns from her night shift. "Hi kids, good morning." She greets in a tired voice, walking over the counter to place her purse and then places a kiss on his temple and on top of my head. "I'm pretty beat. Have a good day at school."

"Thanks mom, bye." He answers leaving the empty glass in the sink and grabbing a muffin from the fridge. Riddhima waves and disappears up the stairs. "Want one?" I look back at him, realizing he's asking me, and nod in gratitude.

One toast wasn't enough.

He hands one over just as his phone beeps with a message. He pulls it out of his blazer pocket to check and informs the arrival of his driver. Once in the car, I start to put my tie together before eating the muffin. There is a nagging feeling that I am forgetting something. With the way I have been rushing the past twenty minutes, I am sure I am forgetting something.

But what?

*✧✤--------------------------✤✧*

| Author Note |

Really quick one since I am posting through phone.. I should get wifi by tonight - tomorrow latest. 

QOTC: Please tell me if you are seeing progress/character development in the chapters so far? I can't judge on my own so need your help with it :D

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