Matsya genuinely looks lost for words. Her red lips open to say something but close again and her hands wind up holding the box of pizza tightly. I take the box from her, noting the nail sized dents in.

Matsya is nervous?

"Revenge," she finally breaks the silence, causing my eyebrows to raise. I didn't expect her to answer and I wasn't planning on pressuring her any further. She's already nervous, afriad or all of them. For some reason, I don't want to hold the cards anymore. This whole making Matsya nervous thing is something so unlike me.

Revenge? "For what?" I ask. Revenge isn't an answer to all my thoughts and I want to know more. It's not enough. "And what does Diego have to do with it?"

"He has nothing to do with anything," Matsya confirms my thoughts. But then why does she has his phone? For money? Diego is rich, there's no other way to address it. "Can we start eating the pizza? It's going to get cold."

I nod, passing the box to her. After she grabs a slice, I take one too and sigh with relief when I realize it's still warm. Cold pizza tastes like dirt compared to the warm slice I hold. "Why are you working here then?" I quiz.

"It's not his fault at all but I wouldn't say he's innocent," Matsya finally admits. The pizza overloads my taste buds with sauce and spice mixed together as I try to process what she said.

"How?"

"Have you ever met his parents?" Matsya says instead, locking her brown eyes with mine. I pause chewing on pizza to watch Matsya carefully bite into her pizza to avoid getting it on her lipstick.

Diego's parents were old people and friendly. They were rich and let me stay over at their extra apartment when I was kicked out. But then again, I'm not sure if Diego even told them that I was staying there. "Yeah, they were nice," I answer, frowning at her.

Is she saying that the people who smelt like flowers and wore designer clothes all the time(I'm convinced they had designer jadals as well) are bad? They donated to almost all the charities out there and with the few encounters I met them through, they were nice enough.

"They killed my parents," Matsya says. Her voice sounds tired. I meet her eyes, mine filled with shock and hers filled with sadness. They seem lost and suddenly, I can finally see the bags under her eyes. She cracks a grin at me, her eyes still brimming with pain. "This pizza is pretty nice right?"

"You don't have to carry on speaking," I say, my voice soft and low. In response, she raises an eyebrow. Thousands of questions are spinning my head around but the hurt in her eyes quieten them. "It's been a long night and I can tell the subject still hurts you."

Matsya stares out of the window before meeting my eyes with the smallest of smiles. "Thank you," she whispers, her tone almost impossible to catch. The moment seems tender as if Matsya's heart was hurting. I don't want to press on an issue where she's not ready to talk about.

The moment seems odd, it was so out our usual selves but then again, talkimg about matters of the heart always changes a persom's tone. Even the most happiest people can cry, even the darkest can have their hearts broken. Everyone seems to change their tones whenever they discuss the past.

What do I know about Diego's parents other than that they were rich?

I knew utterly nothing. They partied a lot, had thousands of money and Diego constantly tells me that his parents always wind up arguing about something - business maybe. Perhaps Matsya's parents were on the wrong side of a business deal and were eliminated.

Matsya does look rich. She can easily fit in with any group and with the way she holds herself up can give off that illusion. It might not be an act - it could be from her childhood filled with rich parties. But then why would she need to join a gang? Why couldn't she hurt them another way?

My eyes move to where Matsya looks at, taking in the building. "What are you thinking about? Breaking into there?" I joke, laughing. When Matsya doesn't laugh and instead nods, I stop chuckling at my bad joke.

"It's a tall building, the view will be amazing!" she grins, her eyes brightening at the idea. "We'll be able to see for miles and miles." At first, I think she's lost it. A moment later, I realize that she genuinely enjoys risk and the rush of heights.

Either could be right but either way, the grin on Matsya's face was amazing. I could feel my heart on pause, the steady thumping of it taking a break to just admire her glow of happiness. She was literally basking in light of her imagination. What would happen of we did break in there anyways?

I'll probably earn another badge on my criminal record. Maybe I'll move a level up from Tagging Parent's Houses to Breaking Into Buildings. But chances are, I'll never see this side of Matsya again where she looks so happy. If I do manage to break in there with her, she'll most likely glow with more laughter - enough to light up everything I know.

I look at the empty pizza box, using a second of our night to throw it at the back. "How would we do it?" I finally ask her, watching her expression change into pure shock.

"You'd do it?" Matsya says, her eyes largening. With my nod, she starts to laugh. "It's a hotel. We'll just pretend we're residents and take the elevator up. I know it's not as illegal as you'll like it." With the last line, I roll my eyes at her.

"I'll grab a spray can," she adds and I gasp. "What? Did you honestly think we're just going to look at a heights and let you keep your criminal virginity?" As she speaks, her body brushes past in attempt to grab a can.

"I tagged a house, I think that's enough," I say. My words cause Matsya to laugh. A spray can lands in my lap a moment later and Matsya plops back in her seat.

Instead of replying, she opens the door of the car. The squeal of the car causes me to wince, reminding me that my get away car is dubbed an old lady car. At least no one will point at us and realize this car is filled with spray cans and stolen phones lying everywhere.

I get out of the car, rubbing my hands. The frost bites at me, nipping at any exposed skin. The suit I wear is most likely creased by now and look unprofessional but I couldn't care less. Matsya on the other hand, looks amazing. The dress seems to suit her more now because of her bright smile.

The city life is filled with people walking, chatting and laughing. I can hear sounds of music playing, something classy and most likely from a restaurant. Noisy drunkards grab at each other, hugging each other tightly like if today is the last day. And maybe it is. The impossible is happening, I'm smiling and laughing along side Matsya.

"If anyone asks, your name is Ajay Malhotra and mine is Katrina Malhotra. We're on our honeymoon," Matsya whispers to me, linking her hand with mine. I shouldn't overthink her gesture, it was just a free pass to get onto the rooftop. My heart still flops over and I try my best to ignore that.

As soon as we enter the hotel, the sounds of the outdoors and smoke of cigarettes leave us - causing me to believe the hotel is sound proof. The sound of Rihana's voice replaces it and I watch the manager dance to it with a laugh.

The manager looks at us with her eyes wide and she stops dancing to lean back at the counter. With a tap the song stops playing. Matsya smiles at her, walking towards the counter with confidence. "How do we get to the rooftop?" Matsya asks, her smile blinding.

The poor manager can't seem to take her eyes off Matsya or say anything. "Just t-take the e-elevator to the top f-floor," she stutters, combing her brown hair back. The hairs escape her ponytail, falling across her skin. Matsya nods her head at her, walking back to me in a way that kind of makes me want to believe that she's my wife.

The way she flashes a grin at me, the kind that seems to shout mischief yet doesn't alarm this heart to run but to instead laugh with her. To spend the rest of this short life being careless with her, to spend my nights like this with mystery (hopefully next time with a lack of illegal activity) and to watch her face light up with that grin again.

But then again, along with those moments come with a feeling of dread. She's managed to become everything I've ever wanted and the person I've regretted the most of meeting. It's strange how weird it is. Even after hearing her sob story, I know there's no way of us ever being a thing.

We walk into the elevator and I smile at her. "You could honestly win an Oscar," I tell her, watching her laugh. "I could imagine it. And this Oscar goes to the fabulous Matsya who successfully managed to make anyone go into a trance!"

"Or I could be a supervillian who break into rooftops. You can be my sidekick," she adds on as we wait for the elevator ding. We're oddly close, even if we stand as far as possible from each other. The elevator is so small, to the point I'm sure if my heart starts to flip flop again Matsya will hear.

"Gladly," I reply. My words are followed by the much awaited ding and we walk out to be greeted by cold air. "Why do you like rooftops so much anyways?"

Matsya takes a moment to think. "I actually don't know. I love the view, it feels like I can see anything. As if all these stars, the moon and the scents of city are here to just greet me. It's kind of magical if you think about it," she explains, her eyes brightening up. With each word, a click of heels is heard amongst some party music blaring in the streets.

We lean over the concrete slab that parts us from the streets. People walk side to side - some kissing, some hugging or some yelling at each other - everyone demonstrating something new. Piles of laughter, music and bright lights fill my eyes and ears with sound. Above us, the stars and the moon are present, watching us their glow.

"My dad love the stars," Matsya says, watching me look up with a heartbroken smile. "I was so angry once since my dad wanted to watch cricket instead of telling me stories about the sky. He ended up giving me his favorite book on stars."

"Instead of sitting downstairs, I sat upstairs with nothing but a torch in my hands and a book. In a way, my love for the stars had saved me. Downstairs, I heard some yelling and gunfire," she recalls, watching each star carefully. Her tone is a monotone and she pauses to let me think it through. "At the time, I thought it was the TV so I stayed up and fell asleep on my book. It wasn't until the next morning when I saw that my family was dead."

"You saw their dead bodies?" I ask, my tone softening to nothing but a mere whisper. She nods, her hair rushing to cover he face. The flying strands of brown hair do little to cover her heartbroken eyes, from where soft pools of water lie in. They highlight the brown eyes of hers, makimg her seem more innocent.

I move closer to her, wrapping my arms around her. She leans against my chest and for a second I wonder if she can hear my heart thumping at the fact of how close we are. Perhaps she can sense my throat is dry, lacking any words that could smooth her. Or maybe she can hear my mind, buzzing with the idea of seeing my parents dead.

Despite everything that my parents had done to me, I still find myself looking at the moments my mother had kissed me on the forehead before school and the days my father had brought spontaneous gifts home. The simple imagination of their bodies lying dead on our kitchen counter brings dread to my stomach.

We stay like that for awhile with my hands wrapped around her body. It's strange to imagine that Matsya actually gets upset - for this whole time we've known each other she's managed to not show any emotions. And today, I've seen the full spectrum. Perhaps she's learnt how to tune them out.

■

How was the chapter?

Is the pace alright? Any feedback? Anything that needs to change?

Any plot guesses/guesses on Matsya?

Also what's your opinions on Nirvaan and Matsya and their character development?

*throws more questions at you like if this is an interview*

So what's changed from the last time we met? I've started a rant book with Meghu on savagewalelegend and I've started a review book on TheOriginalCrew so you guys can check all of those if you have time!

Vote?

- Maya.