chapter : 25
strong determinations

THE HELL!!!
WE REACHED 10 FREAKING K VIEWS!!!
YAAAAR OOOF. thank you so muchh🥺🥺🥺

this might not be the best novel you are currently reading, but i feel so obliged that you are giving it a try.

royally trapped has put me in so much turmoil lololol y'all have no idea🥺

thank you so much,
you all have a piece of my heart. 🤍✨

(sooooo, i haven't really gotten the time to proof read the chapter, i'll correct the mistakes by mid night—you can point the errors <3)

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n o o r
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"So you are rubbing salt on my wound now, huh?" My best friend is busy munching on popcorn, stuffing his mouth looking like someone who has been starved for months now.

He is sprawled on the sofa, hearing me rant out my confusion, the same sofa where Kabir and I had cuddled and slept the previous night. The memory keeps reeling and replaying in my head. It creates a shiver in the pit of my stomach, a storm of emotions that makes me feel things so strongly.

"Also, please remind me to never eat any meals at your house. God knows what all you do there. I am scared to ask, have you by any means christened this very sofa as well?"

"Shut the fuck up. Dheer, are you listening?"

"Sadly yes. I know how you two ruined your kitchen for me. I don't even have to ask you if it was good, you are practically resembling a beetroot."

"It was so good. It was everything...but I have this weird feeling. He left in the morning. It was as if nothing happened, I feel he ran away. Like he did on our wedding day."

Waking up alone was like a slap on my face. I had woken up around eight in the morning, with my eyes closed I had patted my hand around subconsciously, trying to find him. Where there was nothing I felt, I had opened my eyes. The bed where I had been shifted to was cold and empty. I checked my phone then, to find a message from him. He had texted and informed me about his grandfather's call.

He had written that he would be back soon but it was already one in the afternoon. Breakfast couldn't have been stretched for this long, right?

His absence kept nudging me. It forced me to face my insecurities, I kept thinking if he did receive the call or if was it a sham to escape. To run away, from me and my overbearing emotions.

This can be his way of making himself and his stand clear. Maybe he wanted me to not overthink yesterday's moment. There's a high possibility that whatever perspired between us in the kitchen could be the result of the building tension between us. It really could have been an incident caused in the spur of a second, and nothing more.

And it wouldn't be his fault. It's me. He has repeatedly told me that falling in love isn't an option for him. And yet, I leapt.

It's me. I am the one who is breaking all the traffic rules. He told me, not to fall in love, I did exactly that. He told me that he is afraid of love, and here I am magically hoping that he does feel something for me. That somehow he does love me.

It makes me so stupid. Love makes you stupid. It makes you want to experience the joy, but it doesn't warn you about the sorrow.

I have never felt so cold in the morning, so bitter and empty. I had dozed off with hope, a motivation to try and make him fall for me. But can love really be forced?

Am I really that needy? Am I so desperate for love that I am ready to bulldoze into someone's life who doesn't even believe in the concept?

There's no way to impel anyone, particularly the one you genuinely love. This isn't how I should be behaving, like a love-sick fool.

"Noor, if you both did something like that, you ought to have feelings for them. I refuse to believe that he doesn't love you. He does, he likes you, baby."

Those words should be comforting but they are far from it. Lust can make people do silly things. I know he cares for me but love? I am not sure of that. He has spent his sweet time building that wall between us, brick by brick. That means something. Maybe for him, that wall means everything.

"I feel I am expecting too much."

"He's your husband. You ought to expect things from him."

"No. Not things we agreed we wouldn't want." That is right. It was futile of me to fall into the pit and wish he would tumble down too. He is someone who'll extend his hand to save me and not repeat my stupidity.

He is smart enough, follows the rules and knows what he wants.

Which I clearly am not.

"Dheer, he didn't even kiss me." This right here is what sowing the seeds of doubts, watering them and causing them to grow big in my head.

Kissing someone is an act of love. Of showing admiration, affection and affirmation. He didn't even attempt to, he didn't try. Neither did I initiate it. I was just too eary, so bothered, that I was ready to take anything and everything he was willing to offer.

It still puts me in question, it's not a new thing when lust overpowers love. It's okay and it's normal.

Stupid. Stupid. So fucking stupid.

How could I let myself believe it even for a second? Whatever we did last night was consensual but also consequential. Our banters led to a burst of tension.

For me, it was an intimate moment with someone I loved but for him it could have been just an intense moment with someone he has known for a long time. And he is allowed to have that. Everyone is allowed to have any fucking thing they want.

He is not wrong. It's me.

Stupid. Stupid. So stupid.

"You didn't?"

I just shake my head, I have never been this vulnerable but my heart aches, and my eyes burn. They are watering, leaking and washing my hopes away.

There's only realisation, that makes me feel weak. Never had I ever imagined myself to get stuck in this maze.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

I plunge my palm into the popcorn bowl, getting a handful and shoving it in my mouth. Stress eating is the best way to cope with life problems.

"I still believe that he does love you, Noor." He tries, attempts but I have made my decision.

One sway will not cause an accident.

One mistake will not define our relationship.

I have fallen for him, knowing him, understanding him, those sarcastic comments we comment on, those banter, those moments. If I had this leverage to choose who and when I fall in love, he has the right to do the same.

"I'll give him space. I'll try to not pester him, will act oblivious to the happenings of yesterday, and will not do anything that makes him feel liable for my feelings. I cannot control how he feels, but I can control mine."

"So you'll get over him?"

"No. I'll just embrace my emotions and not lose control."

"And if he again initiates anything, you'll back out?"

"If I allow myself, it will only hurt me further."

"So that's decided?"

"Yes."

I ignore the way Dheer's expression drops from his face. He is my true friend, he knows I have never felt so strongly for anyone but isn't that what love is?

Love isn't to bind someone, it's the art of letting go.

He busies himself with another handful of buttery popcorn, chewing and munching loudly. We both stare straight ahead at the black television screen. We stay there in silence, only the crunchy sound of our snack resonating. That's when I remember today's date.

"Isn't your mother's art exhibition the day after?" I check.

"It is."

"Why didn't you remind me? You asked me to come with you, no?"

"I did. But I think you shouldn't attend it with me. You have a bigger problem to deal with, it's just an event." He informs.

"No. No. It's not just an event, it's you and your
mother's biggest event yet. You are arranging the biggest art exhibition in the country I am going to be there to cheer you, Dheer. I ain't missing it for anything."

"You sure about that? You really don't have to."

"But I really want to."

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It's only some hours after I took it as my mission to not let my heart get hurt in this process of living together. After our moment, the lines threaten to blur and disappear but I have to stop that from happening.

I haven't ever wanted a Sunday to pass this quickly but I want this day to end. I want to call it a night and wake up tomorrow morning, with a fresh beginning. One that magically makes all my feelings disappear.

Why isn't it like a switch? On it or off, all as per your own wishes. I have closed myself in my room, ordered dinner today and had it here itself, on my bed. Even if Kabir didn't say anything, I know what he must be thinking.

'You are going to have food on your bed!?'

He had just looked at me, longingly but I kept my gaze lowered. Took the parcel and came back. I normally do not like watching shows on my laptop but I am not risking to go out there.

I am on a mission. Ignore Kabir. Thoroughly and ruthlessly.

He came back soon after lunch, smiled at me and headed to his room. No words were exchanged. I was in the hall that time when he came back, showered and a wet towel hung around his neck.

The neck I had my arms wrapped around.

At that moment I realised I will miserably fail in my decision if I don't take stern measures. Hence the ignoring game. He tried talking to me about food but I had hummed in response and walked to my room.

Since then I have been locked here.

He had still tried, knocking at my door in the evening, asking for dinner but I had simply replied that I would be ordering in. I needed a burger and iced coffee from McDonald's to deviate my head.

'Should we go there and eat?'

'No. I want to enjoy it in my room, alone.'

He didn't bug me after that. I have left my room only twice, and both times I could feel the heaviness of his eyes on my back.

I don't want to hear it. I refuse to hear his realisation. My heart isn't strong enough for him to label the previous night's moment as a mistake.

Kabir is behaving so normally, and it stuns me. It hurts but it's an important indication. He doesn't want us to create an awkward blanket around us. I should be thankful for that, should be grateful that he isn't acting aloof.

I stare at the window in my room. The inky fall outside forces me to ponder over the previous night. Why did he have to leave? Why did he give me so many signals only to withdraw?

No. No. It isn't his fault. He has always been honest with his stance, no strings should and could be attached. Never has he offered me more, well except in the kitchen. Where he offered me too much. Too much that it left me craving for more.

Stupid mind.

He makes me feel like a moth that keeps fluttering near the bulb, even if the heat destroys and chars its own body. It's an addiction, a dirty one. Once you experience it, you can't stop yourself.

It makes me feel foolish and crazy in love but I need to put a full stop. The myriad of my feelings shouldn't act as a boulder on him, I need to compress them. I have to keep myself in check and maintain a good distance.

Sometimes your hearts need the most protection from
the very thing that it desires.

That's my goal. My target. Run away. Protect my heart as much as I can. It will take me some time, but I will get used to it. Till the time I am processing, I need to maintain a strict distance between us.

I focus my attention back on the screen where Jake and Amy's proposal scene is being played.

Stupid love.

Not all receive the love they hope for, some have to compromise by just looking at the happy endings directed at the screens. My dinner's long gone, the plate still lies on the bed in the tray, I am waiting for half an hour more when I will be sure that Kabir has retarded back to his room.

I pop the last of the fries in my mouth when there's a thud against my room's door. My breath halters, when a second knock reverberates.

"Noor, are you awake?" His voice seems so composed. Soft.

I have always loved the sound of his voice, it's heavy but not too daunting. It's manly and holds power, enough to carry the strength to dominate the room he is stepping into.

Should I answer him? He'll never know if I were awake or not.

"I know you are awake. I just heard Amy's yes for the marriage."

"Are you now spying on me?" I shout back my response.

"Open the door...please." The sweetness in his pleading wins over me as I huff, getting up from the bed.

I unlock it and open it just a little. Kabir stands there with two bowls of ice cream in his hands. He looks so dashing, the black cotton material of his tee stretches and fits him perfectly. The grey sweatpants? They are going to be the death of me, one day.

He has this boyish grin plastered on his face, he looks so young when he dresses this way. At the office, with his ironed suit and stern expression, he seems so much more mature.

His eyes are raking my frame, I look down only to realise what I was wearing for bed today. It's a long oversized tee, one that reaches the middle of my thighs. My legs are completely bare.

"I thought we could have ice cream together if not dinner. Uhm..well, actually, I wanted to talk to you about something."

I am not going to let you label our intimate moment as a mistake, Kabir. I will not pressurise you for love, but I am also not letting you break and shatter my heart.

"I am actually tired. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Oh. I—I bought some new pillows for my room. There's a new quilt, too."

"Okay? I don't think I need new pillows. I have ample here."

"Oh."

"Hmm. Goodnight then." I smile at him but it doesn't reach my ears. He seems desperate to have a conversation about yesterday.

"Ice cream?" He offers me the bowl. His shoulders have sagged a little, understanding that I don't want to spend any more time with him. I think he is relieved, he wanted exactly that.

I take the bowl from his hand, our fingers brushing. His are cold due to the temperature, and mine are warm. A simple touch has me panting for more.

A memory flashes again. Him licking and sucking his fingers dry after they were inside me. He has ruined me.

"Good night, Noor."

"Goodnight, Kabir."

I close the door but I know he is still standing outside. It's only some seconds later that I hear his retreating footsteps. I drop my forehead against the wood of the door, my mind exhausted.

This push and pull, these hide and seek games are tiring me. I am so tempted to walk out, barge into his room, push him on the bed and crawl over him. To announce my feelings and to tell him that he has no other choice than to love me.

I am so fucking tempted to blur the lines between us.

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ahhhhhh. AHHHHH. AHHH.

i feel so bad for noor and at the same time i feel so so bad for my kabir. 🥺

tell me what are your views? and how are you liking the book so far.

thank you for reading.

royally yours,
meethi.