On some days when you feel emotionally defeated, all you want is a physical sign that things are going your way... the power of hope and manifestation has brought this to our fandom <3 Forever blessed to be a part of it!

My dear silent readers, hello to you! Please vote karna mat bhoolna agar pasand aaye toh :P

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Cabir swept the busy premises from left to right while pacing ahead for a particular face. He had to talk to someone about it before his mind caved or exploded and he did something irrational to that steroid-hungry worm. He landed on five chairs covered in luxurious red velvet that formed a semi-circle around a green oval table in the north-eastern side of the room. One of those seats, the one beside his friend, was empty. 

Rummaging through a flock of sheep–sorry, guests–who aimlessly wandered around, he was continuously disrupted in his tracks, enraging him further. When he was a few metres away from the game, he heard a stern "Check."

"I'll raise you five," said an old man with hair that resembled white cotton candy plastered on the centre of his head, pushing some tokens to the betting pool.

"Five more," came a rather chirpy voice. Certainly queer, Cabir regarded while identifying with the stereotypical brown spiked man opposite to him who wore red suspenders on a white shirt. If Raghav were to do anything stupid, he too had found someone to rebound with.

Two cards faced up in between the heads.

Nawab, whose back was to him, sunk in his chair. He tapped the table twice and another card was drawn and placed in the centre.

He was on a flush already. A decent hand, but Nawab was willing to bet as high as he could and risk it all regardless... anything to experience a minute form of joy that had been selfishly snatched and solely claimed by a certain girl ever since his first date with her.

Cabir sat on the arm rest of the vacant chair, a handspan away from his friend. Nawab's legs stretched lazily under the table and he appeared much at ease... as if winning that hand was child's play for him. Then again, it wasn't specifically because he had great cards, or that he had an upper hand. All he had to do was project that he did. A game of deception was what poker was. 

"Bhai, sun raha hai?" Cabir hissed.

"Hmm..."

The next round of bets were underway as Cabir leaned in. "You won't believe what happened."

"Neither," Nawab said blankly, adjusting the cards in his hands.

Nandini Murthy, over the course of the last two odd weeks of knowing and meeting her nearly every day, sometimes for hours at a time, had turned his entire world as he knew it upside down.

Merely sixteen or so hours ago, the mission he had come for had successfully completed, and it was time for him to return to Mumbai via the planned cruise he was currently on that was to stop at Kochi for another dealing and then return via the west coast to Mumbai. From the moment he would step foot on the cruise, he would be back to Nawab again. Forever. 

Just for one night, Manik wanted time to freeze so he could be inconsiderate of everyone else's wishes and his own duties and follow his heart.

And so he did: he had spent the night with Nandini Murthy on the bonnet of his car, chatting about insignificant things under the stars. Because he could not tell her the truth about why he was leaving her, he had told her he needed to visit his ailing mother in Kochi and would be gone for at least a few days, not stating precisely when he would return because he never planned on coming back and yet again deceiving her.

The lies had been never ending, and Manik himself was fatigued by the twisted webs he had spun around himself all in an attempt to cautiously shield who he truly was. It was so wrong, for it was the very first time someone had grown fond of him for the person he was and expected nothing in return except his endearing company. Added to that was an aching realisation that Nandini was an embodiment of several values and morals he deeply contrasted; if at all she did learn about him, her tender heart would forever be broken.

On several instances, especially when she innocently asked certain questions, he found himself within an inch of answering her with due honesty and loyalty–that was what she deserved for the kind of unhindered affection and concern she naturally showered on people and their qualities, many of which Manik could not even imagine empathising with. What held him back each of those times was the potential absence of her happiness. It was unbearable to imagine.   

Nandini's high spirits plummeted at the horrible realisation that he would soon be gone for Aiyappa knew how long. A lot of questions swarmed in her mind, some because she doted on him and some purely out of an undesirable inquisitiveness that Nandini often was reprimanded for by her loved ones. Regardless, she did not feel it was right of her to ask them. Especially not when their relationship... if she could even call it that... was barely two weeks old.

Neither did she feel she had the right to be so damn upset about his departure.

The hopelessly dejected girl tried her best to keep her unpleasant emotions at bay. Manik sometimes caught a glimpse of an uneasy dullness basking over her gorgeous features. Feeling his gaze, she would fix her face and make the most of the few blissful moments she got to spend with him; the conscious switch stabbed the middle of his chest and twisted it. During the car ride back, despite controlling to her best ability, she spontaneously burst into ugly tears and a deeply concerned Manik pulled the vehicle over on a gravel side street.

Soft caresses and gentle questions were asked to understand her reasons for breaking down while his distressed fingers affectionately brushed the sides of her face, hiding the agitation that had stemmed from being the cause of her pain.

She was being ridiculous... it wasn't like he was going away forever! He needed to see his mother, and that was one feeling Nandini could thoroughly empathise with. He had an option that she didn't, should she not be all the more supportive of him during such a difficult time?  She shook her head amidst cries, half-chuckling as she felt silly for crying like a little child, then joined her hands and mumbled a small prayer for his mother's speedy recovery, causing him to remorsefully blink at her.

No one had ever prayed for him for as long as he remembered; perhaps his mother did when she was giving birth to him, then she too gave up on him.

No one alive so far ever had his best wishes at heart.

It was a rather touching moment for him... a first of its kind... but thoroughly unaware of how to react to such vulnerability, he swiftly gathered her into his arms and rested his cheek on her head until her sobs turned into sniffles and then serene comforting silence. 

And he could not fucking believe that in those moments of holding her so tenderly, a part of him had cruelly suggested him to bail on his crew, the people he vouched to protect for as long as he lived, to be with her instead for as long as she wanted him to... till eternity and beyond if she desired him to.

Taken aback by his irrational impulse, he stared into the oblivion of darkness through the windscreen. He saw himself and her entangled in an ugly game of fate–if she was a star, glistening and making the world a better place to be in, he was the engulfing void that had no hope in her world and no right to claim a spot beside a righteous human being like her.

Like a blazing siren, a logical thought affirmed his belonging, his calling, elsewhere. His clan... or rather a particular person... needed him. If he didn't protect them, if he didn't risk everything for them, then who else would? That was where he belonged, where he served his loyalty. Not with the angel entwined in his arms who made his days more lively and nights more serene. 

Shelving his own desires, yet again, Manik conjured a compromise and promised her that he would be with her that night for as long as she needed. It was the most he could do while staying true to his roots.

Nandini had gleamed with the suggestion, and joyfully used Navya's name to get permission from her family to be away for the night. She spent most of it excitedly talking to him, finally settling on the bonnet with her head on his bicep during the waking hours of the night.

While she rambled on about fireflies, his eyes casually fell on her. The one object of fascination he could never get enough of. Her simplistic beauty was amplified by the shimmering stars that twinkled in her pupils as they widened and she naturally blinked animatedly as she spoke.

Uncountable times Manik had promised himself that all he wanted from her, with her, was to woo her. Yet, admiring her innocence and naivety in such an intimate setting more often than not had him second guessing his intentions. Nandini occasionally would catch him blatantly lost in her and divert his attention shyly to a question or thought. It would trigger him back to reality and she observed that he would rip his gaze away and glower at something else. 

Which was precisely what Nawab was currently tasking himself with, unable to share his distress with anyone else and hence resorting to a poker game that was the object of his wrath.

"Did you see it too?"

"Yeah, it's amazing." Nawab carelessly stated. His chances of winning were getting slimmer.

"Amazing? Bhai meri jaan khatre mein hai! Tu kis baat ke mazee ley raha hai?"

The hand finished. Slamming the cards down on the table face down, he stood up hastily, tightening his blazer button. He wanted to wash down the monumentous loss with another drink. And another. And another.

Anything that could get his fucking mind off her. "Bro, do you want to take over?"

Cabir gawked at him with an open jaw, uncertain of the events that folded and what they signified. He was about to say something about Harshad's appearance at the party and alert his friend of prospective trouble, but before he could interject, Nawab turned around.

His friend was looking defeated after losing just one hand; that was so unlike him, who usually played on a losing streak until he won or exited only on a winning streak. Could it be that he saw Harshad too, and was preoccupied with scheming something against him? If that was the case, would it not be better for Cabir if he joined in the fun too?

"Tu sambhal lega, don't worry. I gotta go, sorry," Nawab patted Cabir on the back, plastering a small smile.

Shaking his head to himself, he made his way to the panoramic bar while typing something on his phone.

*Boarding now.*

Before he made it to the bar, his phone buzzed.

*Have a safe trip Manik, I'll be waiting.*

He absently rubbed a finger on his lip covering the growing smile that halted and fell.

On the opposite end of the room, in the south-eastern corner, an envelope with a small black card in it was placed into Harshad's hands, rewarding him with a million dollar snigger.

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The fun begins now! I had so much fun divulging into Manik's conflict, it's so thrilling to write a flawed hero/anti-hero if you will :P