"You're gonna take my hand
Whisper the sweetest words
And if you're ever sad
I'll make you laugh
I'll chase the hurt."

It was Virat who had made that risky proposition with Anushka, and he is the one who is scared like a soaked cat.

You would never talk to me.

Every word she had spoken that day hurt. She didn't just dislike him. She hated him. But if that was the way of things... Best that he discover it early. He was already in love with her for so long, and hadn't dared to make the first move. 

He is at the entrance of her residence, waiting for her now. She is carrying a huge bad which was very uncharacteristic; it is like she had brought every possible ammunition to win the goddamn bet.

But he will not mind if he did lose the bet. The point of the bet is not to win a single kiss from the woman he loved, the point is to win... well, her every kiss. Her last kiss.

She flashes him a smile — it was the first time, she was smiling at him — when she opens the door of the car. She places the huge bag in the back seat, and shuts the door close, before hopping inside the car, beside him.

"Please tell me it's not laughing gas inside the bag." he asks with a boyish grin. 

"No. Just some sugarless cookies and good food. Healthy food because I wasn't sure who we would meet, so I had to consider a lot before preparing it." she replies hastily. "But I do have a tincture of nitrous oxide or laughing gas as you put it so eloquently put it, just in case we enter somewhere where the task is not so simple."

"Touché. You really want to get rid of me." he makes a gesture with his hands over his heart.

"Oh, you are realizing this only now, Mr. Kohli?" She is smiling to herself, looking all the more adorable now.

Virat suppresses the strong urge to kiss her lips. Feel that warm smile against his lips.

Their first stop was a grumpy middle aged woman. It wasn't too hard for Anushka to make her laugh. Her sun kissed smile and awful jokes were more than enough. 

Virat knew he tended toward gloom, like a dark little raincloud. Maybe it was the fame, the inability to be with people who would treat him as a real person instead of a cardboard cut model who only lived and breathed cricket. Whenever Virat made friends, he always tended to think the worst of them. How they benefited from this association because the world worked with conditions and profits.

But with Anushka Sharma around her, he always feels like a smiling dark little raincloud. He likes the way she saw the good in the world, he had told her that too, but she saw good in everything except... him.

He is the one person she doesn't like. He should just give up.

But right now, whenever he looks her way, a small blush would creep on her face and she would turn away. It is definitely some improvement from how their conversations past few months.

"Well, Miss Sharma," Virat said. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm here."
Anushka didn't look at him. "Not at all, Mr. Kohli," she said. "I'm not wondering. Wonder requires thought; thought requires concern." She looked over at him and raised one eyebrow. "And concern, Mr. Kohli, requires me to care about your motives in the first place." 
Which I do not. She left that implied, but unspoken. 

Virat spirals back into the present, shaking his head at the memory ruefully. "I hope the children like the gifts, I brought to them."

He stifles his laugh. The single mother to eight children lived in a shoddy apartment, and here she is worried about trifling things like... gifts.

"Oh, don't you laugh at me now. I know how they're living there, but a little presents always cheer up the children." 

Virat's eyes dance with merriment.

"I know the harsh realities of this world. I am not naïve, Virat."

He stops and cocks his head at her. "You aren't?"

"I know naïve. You know what naïve is?" she tells him. "Naïve is when at fifteen, a man ten years your elder, your own teacher, says he loves you, and he will take you away and give you your happily ever after when you come of the age." She points the finger at him. "Naïve is when you love him back. Naïve is when you are ready to do everything but the final act of intercourse which you wanted to reserve for marriage because you don't want to be stupid at the age of fifteen."

One of his eyebrows rose, and she can almost hear him taunting her. Didn't work out so well, did that? 

"Naïve is when he agrees, and you do everything but that one thing, that one thing that risks pregnancy, that one thing that you're saving for your wedding night. He tells you that he can't wait to do that one last thing." Her eyes smarts — just the cold of the wind; definitely not tears — but she lifted her gloves to her eyes and dashed away the liquid there. "He tells you how much more there is to do over and over as he rogers you senseless. I know what it means to be naïve. It's believing a man when he says this isn't how pregnancy occurs. You just don't spill, he says. And because you trust him, and the world shies away from educating naïve people about sexual intercourse, you realize how wrong he was after five weeks."

His eyes had widen as she speaks. "Anushka."

"Naïve is when he comes to your school farewell. You're wondering if tonight he'll tell everyone and save you." Anushka gritted her teeth. "I'll tell you when you stop being naïve, Virat. It's when your class teacher asks the man you believe to be the love of your life when he's bringing his wife up from village."

Virat takes a step toward her, and she takes two steps back. "Oh, God." 

"So don't tell me I'm naïve. Don't even think it." Anushka's voice has a quaver in it, and she hates that sign of weakness, that show of emotion over events that had come and gone. "After... after everything was over, after I realized how foolish I was, how ignorant I had been, I wanted to hate everything and everyone. But if I did, he would have won. He would have ruined me. I wasn't going to be a bit of rubbish just because he discarded me." She glares up at Virat. "And I refused to break. I wouldn't do him the honor."

Virat wraps her arms around her.

Anushka leans her forehead against his chest. "God," she said. "I don't know why I told you that."

"I do." He spoke slowly, hesitantly. "It's because you're angry, and you're kind. You can't be angry at the people who love you — your father, your mother. And you could never shout like that at the people who don't know what happened. That leaves me." He gave her a half-bow. "I know, although I should not. I'm the best target you have. I'm the only person you can scream at in all the world." 

There was another sardonic half-smile at that. "I'm not angry," she said in outrage. "I scarcely think of it after all this time." 

"You're not angry?" He snorts. 

"I don't believe that for one instant, my dear. I'm not you, and I'm furious. If you told me his name, I would hunt him down and..." 

"And what?" 

He shrugs. "And I don't know. As alpha it makes me sound... bash his head with my bat?"

Anushka bites down on her lip. "What a peculiar thing to say for a cricketer." Then she retreats from his embrace, and gives him a heart stopping smile of friendship.

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The next time when they meet, Anushka apologizes to Virat. "I am sorry. I have been rude to you when you had no fault at all in my situation. I guess, I just wanted to be angry with someone, and you were a soft target."

"I guess, I deserved it. You made me a humble man, Anushka because I know I am terribly flawed. Now come, come," He offers her his arm, she takes it. He sets his fingers over her wrist and takes comfort in the beat of her pulse — a little faster just like his.

After they finished visiting their second candidate who had to smile, Anushka huffs exasperatedly. It was a child, for heaven's sake. "You're not even trying to win the wager, Virat."

"I'm doing exactly what I wish to do."

"So you don't want to win?"

"I want to win, Anushka. I want to win the wager very much."

Anushka rolls her eyes. "I also want to get married. My mother must have come by your house last night to talk about it." he laughs.

Anushka halts her footsteps. "So that business with list... were they candidates for your bride?" 

"Yes."

"I don't see why you should be making lists. At least one of those girls will be willing to get hitched to you. The Virat Kohli and all."

 "At least one? My, my, You are so very generous when it comes to giving praises, aren't you?" he replies sardonically. "But there is one girl, I want. And she is too damned clever to see me beyond this Virat Kohli facade. She sees me for Virat, for the fraud I am. Anyway, you tell me why are you still not married? Or dating?"

"I was engaged to Kabir."

"He was a total ass. You did good by breaking it up with him."

"I gues. He was one of those men who treated me as an exception to the rule. And I wasn't sure if I liked that about him. I didn't want another R.D. in my life." She pauses for a moment, then continues. "Did you know there was another girl before me?" 

"They never filed a complaint." he shoots him a questioning glance.

"Yes," she answers, then quickly decides to change the topic. "What I want to know is why are you so fixated on this one girl? And why doesn't she return your regard?"

"Because I have never proposed her. Never let her know what truly lies in my heart."

"You cannot make me believe that you are unable to propose to a woman."

"The time never seemed right," Virat laments. "There was a point where she was actively dating a pompous ass, and then she never seems to be in a proper mood because of a bitter past. And when we talk, I ruin everything by being an arrogant jerk or cracking jokes about the most mundane things. She is also so very accomplished, that sometimes, I feel inferior to her. That she would turn me down and then it will be all... over."

"Does she even know that you feel about her this way?"

"At this point, she would be an idiot to not know how I feel about her. I suspect that for her own inscrutable reasons, she doesn't want to admit it to herself. I am ornery and difficult, but I am not a particularly subtle individual, and there can be no other explanation for my attention to her."

"Well, Virat, I give in that you're a difficult person to be with but I am sure, she would come to like you at least. I can help you, put in a good word for you if that is what you need in a push. Because even difficult men deserve happiness. Give me her name."

"Anushka," he smiles faintly. "When you're able to figure out her name, please tell her that I have been very constant in my affection for her. That I have thought of nothing but her for the past few months, even though it makes no sense."

His words leave her with the biggest thrill of all, her whole body vibrating with an inexplicable urgency.

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I am not a very subtle individual.

The pompous ass was talking about her, Anushka thinks to herself.

She also wanted Virat, and he wanted her back. But her mind constantly reverberated with the simple logic that rules her entire world: 

love leads to actions,
and actions lead to heartbreak.

The last candidate they were to meet was an old man. She tells Anushka that only one thing can make him smile: stories about her grandson.

Anushka's breath hitched when Virat called her Mr. Kohli. "He is my grandfather, he has Alzheimer."

"You want me to talk about you." Anushka breathes out.

"You always see good in people, Anushka. I want to know if you see any of it in me." 

Anushka gives the handsome gentleman a heart stopping smile. She sits beside him, and takes his hand in hers. They were warm, just like his eyes. "Your grandson, Mr. Kohli, he is a superman without a cape. He plays for the country, and he leads a very charmed life. Or so it seems to the world. You see, he was very young when he lost his father." Anushka smiles, but it is sad. "And then cricket became his world. With his brilliance, he became the center of it too, but that made him jaded, forlorn. Too much fame could break anyone. I somehow think, it didn't break him, just chipped him."

"He is a very, very, very difficult man, but the truth is, even though he is a difficult man, it doesn't necessarily mean, he doesn't deserve happiness. And he will really be happy if he sees you smile, Mr Kohli because your grandson is the brown eyed man in front of you. He has the same eyes as you, full of warmth and love. For you. Can you see him for what he is?"

Virat's grandfather looks at him like he's seeing him for the first time. He smiles.

Anushka leaves the room.

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She hears footsteps behind her. They quicken.

"You can't walk away, Anushka. Not after this." Those words stop her.

Anushka sighs, and watches him taking a step towards her. He wraps his arms around her waist, "You can't, darling. I love you."

She leans forward, and kisses him on the lips. It's everything she wanted and everything she wished to forget. Bittersweet. "You're a very good man, Virat. You made me forget what could happen."

"It doesn't have to be that way. You need not forget."

"I made your grandfather smile. He sees you."

"You see me."

"I won the wager," Anushka reminds him with a nervous laugh.

"Fuck the wager," he swears.

"You promised," she says. "You promised that if I won, you would never talk to me again." 

He swallows. "Only if that's what you wanted. Anushka, you can't mean to kiss me and then walk away." 

"I mean it." Her voice is shaking, and he thinks she is on the verge of tears. "I really mean it, Virat. I don't want to talk to you ever again. Goodbye."

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August is ending, and so was Anushka's patience. She smiles, she laughs but she also knows it's all lies.

She is walking in the rain, thinking of the last time she had let love ruin her life. Of the hollow promises of a man. Of brown eyes, and sweet nothings. If only she was naïve and hopeful, if only she was fifteen again.

Kisses can lie.

Then one day, she walks towards the park, and sees him again.

Oh God, it is Virat Kohli. She doesn't want him to see her now. She doesn't want to see him ever. 

The rain pelting hides her tears. But she still brings her hands to her eyes, and blows her nose, hoping against hope.

Virat comes and stands beside her. He tucks her inside his jacket, not saying a word. Of course, he isn't saying anything because of that stupid wager.

His eyes meet hers. He smiles — not brilliantly, but almost sweetly. 

When did she realize this man was sweet? Was it when she saw him playing with those kids? Or when he danced with aunties during social functions so that they didn't feel left out? Even now, when he's wrapping that jacket around her.

After that, he bends down. Anushka's breath stopped. He makes it seem so uncomplicated to yearn for his touch, so simple to lean into his hand when he set it against her cheek. He runs his thumb under her eye,wiping a tear away before it could slip away. His fingers played against her nose, her mouth. And then, bending just a little further, he touches his lips to hers. 

It is so different for a kiss, filled with melancholy and longing. It is the kind of kiss a knight may give a princess whose enchantment had been shattered years in the past, a woman who is struggling to understand a world without any truth in it.

He straightens, pulling away from her.

"Virat..." she begins.

But he sets his finger to his lips in an unmistakable gesture. His eyebrow arches confidently—annoyingly even. "What are you—"

This time, his hand goes over her lips. He smiles at her. And then, he kisses her again, this time harder, his breath hot, melding with hers, his hands taking hold of hers.

This time Anushka pulls away, and walks towards the shade. Virat follows her there.

"He used to call me darling." she confesses. "R.D. used to. Anushka darling, you're so smart. Anushka darling, I can't wait until I can say the whole that you're mine. I wish I was as rational as you, but it is hard for me to hear those things again. The sweet nothings. The meaningless endearments."

His hands squeezes hers.

"When I look into your eyes, I see truth. And it terrifies me. You scare me. You always have. Feeling that passion again. Feeling that I'm losing myself, giving myself over to another person without any thought as to the consequences."

"Your grandfather must have felt awful when I left suddenly and you followed me. I am right,  ain't I? How can you forgive me for being so selfish?" 

She looks at him. She knows if he could speak, he would probably say something right and awful, and make her laugh in the process.

"I wish I knew why you were doing this. Being so kind to me."

Then he takes out a small pocketbook which was also drenched wet, and a pen. He places it on the tree for base, and writes down something. Tearing the paper away from the book, he slides it down into her hands.

It is only after he leaves, in the silence of her shallow breaths, she unfolds the paper, and reads the words etched on it. I only said I would stop talking to you, I never promised to stop loving you. 

In the privacy of her own room, Anushka stares at those words again. She feels strong and steady. Happy because in spite of pushing him away, she hadn't still destroyed everything.

It scares her. The truth that she might be in love with Virat too frightens her to death.

She remembers Virat telling her that she always saw the best out of any lamentable situation. Rose colored glasses and all. The bad thing here was: Maybe she was irretrievably damaged, unable to love normally, unable to accept the regard of a good man because of what had happened in her past.

Or maybe... maybe she was on the brink of love, if only she could let herself accept it. 

She remembers her father's words after the whole ordeal of pregnancy and miscarriage. You are stronger than you think you are, Nushkie.

Maybe he is right. Maybe she is stronger than she'd always thought.

Later that night, Virat looks at his phone, the air tickets for their new series against Australia. It is exactly what he needs to distract himself from the thoughts of a woman who was too immersed in her past to return his love.

He is walking when through the lane to his home's backdoor when he feels a nudge on his shoulder. He turns around, and is attacked by a soul searing kiss.

Anushka.

When she breaks the kiss, he stares at her in wonderment. "Few days back, I helped you with your situation with that girl you loved, remember? Now, I want your help." She takes a pause, bringing her finger to her chin in a thinking action. "There's this man. He has been constant in his attention and affection for me since months. And I haven't treated him very kindly." Her words falter. "He gave me the truth, and I denied it. Pushed him away, and now he might be leaving soon. How do I... How do I let him know that I have given in? That I want no other man but him?"

"Show up in the middle of the night and attack him with a ravishing kiss," he advises, setting a finger under her chin, "and he'll likely get the message." 

"No point in being subtle." She agrees. He tilts her face up. She looks in his eyes, and he smiles. "I love you, Virat."

"And I, you, my love."