||Nandini||

"I am just one of his servant girls, just another bait"

"Where have you been all this time?" Leela questions. "I had to prepare meals for almost 20 people all by myself"

Her complaints and the clinking of the pots she was washing were mere murmurs to me, all I cared about was Vishu.

The feeling when he held my hand and walked me inside the ambalam (temple), I'm sure wasn't despise. It felt nice, for a moment then, I endured complete bliss. But how? I absolutely detest that man. This mind of mine is playing tricks on me again. I should be contemplating my elope, not-

"Nandini" His husky vocals send chills down my spine. "My head's killing me, can I get something as a cure?"

I am stagnant, his night orbs captivate me, and those dark strands of hair which rebelliously fall onto his forehead from the hold of his gel sublime his golden skin. I should say, this would be the first time I've discerned his beauty. Rompa Azhaku (Very handsome)

"Nandini" he reiterates pulling me out of my trance.

"Nandini, what are you doing?" Leela scolds nudging me. "I'll brew a tea for you, young master"

A smirk grows on Vishu's face catching me checking him out, so he wishes, scoffing I stroll off his presence.

Get your act together, Nandini, he's a Nayanar, and you're just one of his servant girls. Whatever you feel is shashwatham (temporary).

To distract myself I take up my novel and sit on the steps of my haven, just the sight of the tharavattu kullam (laterite paved pool, situated inside the house, used to take a bath in the old age) sets me in peace. But reading doesn't help, my mind fills with the thought of him again, those captivating night orbs. That glowing golden skin cast, his-

Oh, Shucks! Get a grip of yourself, Nandini.

Why is it hard to distract myself? This feeling isn't strong enough to be acknowledged. In devastation, I decided to take a dip in the kullam (pool).

I fold clean and fresh clothes, the ones I need to throw on after the dip, on the steps, and ascend the stairs.

The cold ripples of the kulam (lake; pool) welcomes my warm frame. The green algae cemented onto the laterite paved walls fabricate a perfect luxurious landscape, I melt into the waters. My mind harmonizes with the serenity of the atmosphere. It's actually surprising that I'm allowed to use this paradise. The Nayanar family has a separate kulam (pool) for their use. I don't mind the discrimination if I could use the tranquility.

Before I could grab my soap to scrub myself, I heard a jump that sent large waves disturbing the silence of the kulam (pool). I quickly tighten my old mundu (it's a garment usually worn by men around their waist, but women also use it as a cloth) wrapped around my bust down which I used as my bathrobe.

Sometimes privacy is invaded, so it's advisable to wear clothes while taking a bath, I mean it's an open kulam (pool) after all.

"Nandini" a figure arises from the deep waters.

Instinctually, I defend myself by attacking the frame. Well, I regretted it later on. The half-naked man moans in pain, being slapped with wet hands isn't the cherry on top moment. Who would've thought young master Vishu would show up to be the victim of the pleasurable wet hand encounter?

"Pervert" I yell at his face.

His damp face is bright red from the effect of my slap plastering a huge exasperating smirk.

His eyes trail down my neck halting at my heaving bosoms. "You look hot wet"

His phrase hit my cheeks with blood. Sleazeball. Another slap fell onto his still scarlet cheek. I disgust myself for even liking this perv a while back.

Pushing him into the kulam (pool) I climb the stairs, drenched. His giggles wrap me in wrath. Oh Krishna (Hindu god), I should've suffocated him to death in that kulam (pool). 

I dry my hair with a towel and change into clean clothes in the changing room next to the tharavadu kulam (ancestral pool). Wrapping my wet hair in the towel, I stepped out of the room only to find young master Vishu leaning against the door, drenched and shivering. His dark strands dripping as our eyes lock. 

Talk about muddling in someone's peace.

"Dry me, before I fall sick" he smirks.

"Idiot" I call furious.

I stick the towel pulling it off my hair to his chest. "You got two hands with 10 flexible fingers, dry yourself"

The smirk on his countenance grows wide as his night orbs fixate with mine and noisily inhales the scent of the towel I handed him. My eyes dilate broader.

"Even your towel holds the scent of you"

Big time pervert.

I snatch the towel from him, ceasing his action. "Freak"

Before I could walk past him furiously, he pulled me by my hand and swirled me around slamming me against the laterite wall. A gasp escapes my lips as he lays his head on the nape of my neck and snuggles closer. His cold damp face dries itself in my warmth. Baby hair on my neckline rises developing wild butterflies in the small of my stomach.

"Whatever you call me, however hard you slap me, I can't help but like you more, Nandini"

Those words he whispered left me frozen as they craved themselves into my heart.

It was the first time someone ever confessed to me, though insignificantly. It glimmered my insides giving rise to immense colour all over my body.

A flurry of emotion poured into me, the ones I would regret acknowledging.

_____________________________

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