The first thing that I noticed as I stepped inside was, that the picture of us with winky faces, orange tongues, and sticky ice candies on our hands, was still hanging on the wall above the dark mahogany desk of his childhood. For some reason I was scared that it would not be not on its usual place since it's been hung twelve years back. I took a small huff of breath and looked around at the walls that were painted translucent blue, and then at the potted plant that I had gifted him two years back, sitting on the windowsill. The two adjacent desks under the sill were piled with old school textbooks and notebooks, and a black colored file, which he must have brought from his other home in Gurgaon, sitting beside a lamp. With a twist in my heart I noticed the queen-size bed was still covered in a duck printed bed sheet. And the room still smelled clean and soft like linen and woods. It was all like in the past. I could pretend that-

I turned and found Sahana's caramel eyes throwing daggers at me. Her hair, a perfect bonny blanket, lying above her bronze shoulders. She looked every bit of sophisticated, famous world-class actress, however her body was rigid and her sunflowers painted nails were clutching the Coco bag. 

The door closed with a soft click behind me. Sahana and I both jumped and turned as Kiyansh gazed at us with those cool, impassive, eyes. His calm features showing no signs of vulnerability, or emotion. He looked like he was in a business meeting where the other associates were creating a scene over something peculiar, and he was just watching it from distnace, observing it. I looked at him and thought of how, The 'Times of India' had called his face 'Adonis.' The tilt of his cupid mouth and fire eyes as his eyes fell upon me, were enough for that description, but for me it was much more than that. For me, the way he looked at me, was enough to make me feel like I was set up on fire. His olive face, looked like it was plucked from a painting of Edouard Manet's, his brown hair glimmering gold. Even the slant of light seem to give and fall to his Berluti's.  

My breath hitched in surprise as Sahana grabbed my arm, and her nails digging, "Your friend has gone mad," she said, her  voice vehement, "he thinks he can decide for everything he wants and the whole world will just listen."

What do you do when you had to fight for the person you loved, so that he could be with the person he loved?

Life was cruel. 

I opened my mouth-

"Get away from her." A stormy voice cut through, slashing like a whip through the other side of the room.

Sahana and I turned to Kiyansh in synchrony; I had never seen such acidic expression on his face before. The snap change of expression from impassive to so irate, made him look like an angry knight on a battlefield. He was clenching and unclenching his jaw. The tick on his neck, rapid and hefty; I didn't even realize her nails were a sharp pain on my arm, until his eyes were smoldering it.

Sahana let go of my arm with a jolt and looked at him, as if she hardly believed him he was talking to her that way. "What-What are you-?" She asked, her sentence breaking off to an awkward high-pitched laugh

 A beacon of warning bell flashed inside my head.

He was staring at my arms one moment and then another, his eyes festered up to mine and he hissed, "Out." 

The words felt like a sharp thrust through my gut. I stilled, blinking back the sudden tears that were filling my eyes.  I wasn't going to cry. It was plain and simple, he was angry and he wanted me out of the room. 

I started to walk towards the door, embarrassed blotches covering my skin.

"What are you doing?"

My steps faltered as I looked up at him perplexed and mortified.

His eyes flashed as looked behind me, "You," he said, flicking his thumb towards the door, "Get out."

Silence, as I and Sahana realised that he was talking about her. And then, "What- Stop-Stop joking Kiyansh," as she let out a baffled laugh.

I didn't turn to look at Sahana's expression, but the way Kiyansh was staring at her wasn't in a jocular way. "The only person who's joking here," He said in an acerbic tone, "is you." He clasped the button on his Tom Ford suit close and walked to the desk with the black folder on top. Picking it up carefully, he opened the file antagonizingly slow and then threw it on the floor.

I looked at the floor to see the scattered, of what I realised were photographs on the floor, four of them, near my feet.

My mouth fell open in shock as I picked them up. Two of them were of Sahana kissing a man that certainly didn't have Kiyansh's tall and broad built from the back of the man that I could see in the photos. He had a small but lean built; Sahana was the one who bent down to kiss him.

It was her, with another man.

I unsteadily turned the other two upside pictures and my heart nearly stopped palpating. In the other, the man, whom now I recognized was a model I met at a party, was feeding Sahana salad with a fork. And in the second one, they were holding hands and kissing on a French balcony.

He was the model that Sahana had brought into my office once, asking me to look out for a role, if I had been writing any other films. 

I couldn't believe it. I just couldn't believe it.

My eyes helplessly scooted towards Kiyansh who stood there with that mildly annoyed expression on his face. He wasn't looking at me, which to say was something, because it was obviously to hide back what he was feeling.

I heard a weeping sound, and clutching the photos, I turned to see Sahana who stumbled forward and groped Kiyansh's arms. "Kiyansh it was just a fling. I ...it meant nothing, I promise. He just came at me and..."

Something nauseous rolled inside my gut as I saw her clasping his arms. He came at her? She was freaking bending down and kissing in the picture. I hated it when girls played molested roles to cover up something they had done.

Kiyansh gave her a look as if she was a piece of dirt stuck under his shoe, and said,  his voice like a swirl of honey, the ticking in his jaw rapid, "Get out."

Sahana jolted back as if she had been slapped, "But we were going to get married, you were going to propose and we were going to announce our engagement."

What?- I- what? My mind whirred so hard, I had to grit my teeth. 

Kiyansh looked at his Patek Phliippe, as if to say, don't waste my time. 

"Please... Kiyansh..." she ventured, moving closer to him, her hand touching his arm.

My heart suddenly filled with rage so sharp, I had to physically grip my hands into fists to keep from moving and snatching her hand away.

"Kiyansh, just think about us" Her voice was pleading. I wondered if it was the part of her that was acting, or the part that was genuinely worried about that us. Because in the pictures, it was clear she hadn't cared about us. 

How could anyone cheat on someone like him?

Kiyansh moved, freeing his arms, there was amusement in his voice, as he said, "Us?"

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, she looked like she wanted to argue but then she stood waiting for him. 

Kiyansh stood like a statue, his eyes and gait skeptical and stony. Sahana finally realizing that there was nothing she could do, she started walking to the door, her head bent down. She reached to the door and her steps faltered,  suddenly she turned and looked at me, "You are a bitch."  

My mouth fell open in shock- as Kiyansh swivelled towards the door; his golden eyes turning pitch black, his voice etched in stone, he said, "If you ever dared to talk to her that way again, I don't think you have ever really known me. Now, get out."

Sahana looked at Kiyansh as another set of tears rolled down her cheeks, "I don't believe you," she said and then walked out. The only sound echoing in the room was the receding click of the heels in the hallway.

For a minute, as I stood in shock, I reminisced about the times Kiyansh and I stood in a garden before the dark, waiting for the stars to come out. For a minute, I let myself think that none of what happened, actually happened. I let myself think, we were just kids for a moment.

But then, I heard Kiyansh's gentle voice, "Shanvi"

I stayed where I was, I didn't think I had it in me to move, to say anything.

I heard a sigh and I looked up to see his face, which was so open, so expressive, that the tears that I was holding back escaped my eyes. 

"Why are you crying?" He asked with a frown.

"I am sorry." I whispered.

I could feel his breath on my face, as he came close to me, the heat of his body, as if wrapping itself around me, "You don't have anything to be sorry for," he said, putting a cool finger on my cheek and my heart galloped like it would escalade out of my chest. "I hate it when you cry," he sighed. "I am sorry that she talked to you that way, I promise it won't happen ever again."

I opened my eyes, and through the blur of my tears, I watched the unguarded expression on his face. "I am sorry I didn't know all this was going on. I didn't want to tell her, it just came out of my mouth."

His lips moved a fraction, as he took me towards his childhood bed. His eyes were back to being soft golden brown as he looked at me, and made me sit on the bed, my arms jittering from the touch of his calloused fingers. The image of Kiyansh trying to fit on childhood his bed with ducks looked so ridiculous in my head, that a choked laughed jolted out of me.

His lips turned into a heart-stopping smile as he played a childhood game, and asked me with his brows up, pretending to be all consequential, "Password?" 

I said, "Quack, Quack," in a duck-like voice, and we both gave out surprised laughs.

It was a game that we had played all our childhood. For some reason, we both insisted on having animal printed bed sheets when we were kids, so that the other person had to make that animal's sound to get on the bed. Once, he had a bed sheet with pigs all over them, and I had to snout and squeal for over an hour as he was sprawled all over the floor laughing. He had clutched his stomach and gasped for me to stop, but I kept on snouting and squealing so much, that I had gotten a sore throat for two days after that incident.

He shook his head as he laughed, and my heart fluttered hearing that pure and soft sound after so long. I put my right hand on his shoulder as he sat on the floor kneeling and laughing, but he stopped as soon as he noticed my arm. I felt him still and watched as his eyes scorched to the skin where Sahana had dug her nails. I hadn't realised that had left a mark and a trickle of blood. I started to move my hands away, but he caught my wrist and stared at the spot.

"Hey! It's nothing." I tried in a tender tone.

His mouth fell in a straight line. He was frowning as he scrunched up his brows and wordlessly kept my arm back on my lap. He reached to the side table beside his bed and opened the second drawer, from where he took out the first aid box. His features didn't relax as he took out a bottle of Dettol, antiseptic gel and cotton. Silently he dipped the cotton pad in the bottle of Dettol, picked up my arm and wiped the spot. I bit my lip as the disinfectant burned my skin. His forehead crunched in concentration as he started to blow on the burning skin and I forgot all about the burn, butterflies trickling inside my stomach from his breath on my skin.

Stop behaving like a teenager, I chastised myself as he threw the cotton pad in the dustbin and started applying the gel after the disinfectant, while still blowing on my skin. His long golden finger moving carefully on my skin. I didn't understand how he was so open and gentle with me while coming so closed off to others. Whatever it was, I focused on his olive golden skin, the tilt of his cupid mouth, the slant of his jaw, his cherubic face, the way he looked like he was made of oil paints by some famous painter, and the thought of how lucky I was, to have him care for me, stuck inside my head like a pin. 

He suddenly stopped blowing and looked up at me through his long brown lashes. His golden brown eyes shining like a muddy sun. His finger moved in a gentle circle on my arm, and I involuntarily squirmed under him. His lips curled at corners as he kept gliding his fingers on my arms, spreading the cool gel while looking at me.

My breath came in shallow drags as I looked down at him, my hands itching to cup his jaw, and kiss those long eyelashes. I wrested my arm away from him as the stupid thought evaded my mind, giving an awkward laugh, "You did pretty well for not being a nurse," I said.

His expression was soft and sincere as he looked at me. I jolted as his hand cupped my hand on my lap and he asked in a rough whisper, his fingers gliding on the sensitive skin of my palm, "Have I ever asked you to get out of a room?"

I couldn't fathom concentrating on answering him, not when his fingers were moving over my palms. He repeated his question again.

I gulped and shook my head.

"I will never, never ask you to get out of a room." He said solemnly, looking into my eyes.

A painful knot formed inside my throat. How could he think about me so much, when he must be hurting himself?

"You want to rub your nose, don't you?" He whispered with a dimple popping on the left of his cheek as he squeezed my hand, his eyes shining.

I squeezed his hand back, as I scoffed at him. "Talk about yourself."

He shook his head with a big smile that added seven definite years to my life. One of the things that I loved most about him was that he couldn't be angry with me for a long time.

"When did you get to know?" I whispered. 

He exhaled, his fingers gliding over my palm, "A month ago."

"Why didn't you tell me then? Wait." I asked, my eyebrows scrunching in confusion, "Why did you lie to me about the engagement and announcement?"

"I never lied to you." He said, voice clear as water, "I was waiting to see if she was going to tell me herself, it's been going on for more than a year. A month and a half ago one of my business associate said he saw her at a VIP lounge of a bar, kissing someone else." He said after a beat, "I knew you couldn't ever pretend about it." 

I mulled it over for a moment careful to not look at him. "No listen, I am sorry. I am being selfish. You are right, I wouldn't have been able to pretend that everything was fine. But you did say that there was going to be announcement. What did you mean by that?" I said taking my hand away from his.

He looked at me, his hand stilling on my lap. He blinked up at me and bit down on his lips. The action was so exposed, coming from him that for a second I almost missed what he said, "We need to talk about something."