If he ever kept a diary and jotted down all the thoughts that crossed his mind; the past couple days’ entries would be reflect his state of mind thereby resulting in repetitive sentences of how much he hated her and how much he loved her. He could not help the repetition of thoughts and he knew it would have looked bad on paper. It was one of the reasons he never shared what was on his mind with anyone else. If it would have looked bad on paper; it would also seem bad when he shared his thoughts with others.
He knew people would soon get tired of listening to his nonsense explanation of why he hated her and why he loved her despite everything. It seemed as if he was stuck in a loop. The same thoughts replaying in his head all day long.
He finished his dinner; surprisingly it felt better. He was glad he had forced himself to eat. Despite the weakness he washed his plate and cleaned the kitchen counter. He was glad he did not have to cook. His friends had done him a huge favour. He closed his eyes for a while and imagined how it would have been if she had taken care of him. He would have loved her presence in his room. He would have felt a lot better simply knowing that she was there for him, no matter what. He opened his eyes and was exposed to the hurting fact that he was all alone in this room.
He knew people would soon get tired of listening to his nonsense explanation of why he hated her and why he loved her despite everything. It seemed as if he was stuck in a loop. The same thoughts replaying in his head all day long.
He finished his dinner; surprisingly it felt better. He was glad he had forced himself to eat. Despite the weakness he washed his plate and cleaned the kitchen counter. He was glad he did not have to cook. His friends had done him a huge favour. He closed his eyes for a while and imagined how it would have been if she had taken care of him. He would have loved her presence in his room. He would have felt a lot better simply knowing that she was there for him, no matter what. He opened his eyes and was exposed to the hurting fact that he was all alone in this room.
He could not change that he loved her but he had to learn to not be affected by it each waking moment. He decided to go to work the next day. Hopefully, he would be able to drive around for at least half a day. Work would help him to take his mind off the thoughts of her.
He walked back towards the bed and sat for a while before lying down. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
There was a knock on the door. He thought he had imagined it. The knocking continued and grew louder. He sat up straight in bed. It was dark around. He got up and walked towards the door in darkness, he switched on the lights before opening the door. The last person he had expected to see was standing at the door. He had wanted her to be there, he had thought about her all through the day. He stepped back and she entered the room. She reached out and touched his forehead –
“You still have high fever” she said and walked in towards the kitchen
He watched as she prepared cologne water and dipped his kerchief in it.
“Lie down” she said as she walked back towards him. He smiled. He did as she asked him to do.
She sat on the bed next to him and kept the strip of kerchief on his forehead. She ran her fingers through his hair. It felt good. He closed his eyes. She ran her fingers over his cheek, the tingling sensation travelled throughout the body. But, it felt different; it was nothing like he had felt when she had taken his hand in hers and held it tightly close to her chest. Maybe, it was because he was sick and he was so desperately hoping to feel her touch that when it actually happened it seemed to be less than what he expected. He did not care, as long as she was with him, sitting next to him on his bed, he did not care about anything else.
“I tried not to come; but I could not stop myself, I had to come and see you. I had not seen you for a couple of days and it did not feel good.” She said and ran her hand over his chest; tickling the hair on his chest and then she bent over him and kissed him on the mouth. At first he responded, kissing her back with passion but then he placed his hand over her shoulder and held her at a distance. Something was wrong. He looked at her again; the image of Mansi blurred and disappeared and was replaced by someone else, a face he recognised. The face of his friend to whom he had confessed his feelings for Mansi. He pushed her back and sat up straight in bed.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” he said, suddenly furious
“What’s wrong? You were kissing me a moment ago.” His friend said and then it dawned upon her. “Oh, so you thought I was someone else. You were thinking about that bitch while you kissed me!” she said bitterly and stepped further away.
“You are still thinking about that bitch who never cared about you. Who humiliated you, hurt you and left you alone. She is not coming back, she’s gone. She is going to give back the keys of her room and go and leave with some rich old dude, as far as I know.” She said, each and every word full of hatred for Mansi; the woman her friend loved. He was such a fool.
“What does that bitch have that I do not have?” she asked. “I can give you more than what she has to offer.” She did not know what she was saying; the only thing she knew was she loved him, had always loved him. She had waited patiently, but this new bitch had stepped in and ruined her chances. She had almost given up on him, convincing herself that the only thing that mattered was that he was happy. But, he was not happy. She had seen him cry.
She moved closer and had almost pulled her t-shirt over her head when he yelled “Get out”
She took off the shirt, anyway. It was too late to stop her fluid motion. She wanted him to look at her; she believed that if he looked at her, maybe he would give in; forget the bitch and make love to her.
“Get Out” he yelled again and walked towards her. He held her by the arm and pushed her out of the room and closed the door on her face. She stood there at the door, staring blankly at it; her t-shirt in her hand and then she started crying.
Rohan took a deep breath and sat back on the bed. He held his head in his hands and thought about what had just happened. The girl he had considered his friend had walked into his room, kissed him on the mouth, called Mansi a bitch, cursed her, accused her and then tried to seduce him by taking off her shirt. What was she thinking!
She did not deserve being thrown out topless, a voice in his head said. He agreed. He should have not pushed her out of the room like this. If Mansi had humiliated him, he had done exactly the same thing to his friend. But, he had been furious because of the cursing and the accusations. He was not the kind of man to be rude to anyone. He got up and opened the door of his room. He searched for her; she was nowhere to be seen. Despite the weakness he walked out and climbed down the steps to go towards her room. Before he could reach the door he saw her making out with their common friend. He turned around as she took of her t-shirt yet again.
He walked back towards the bed and sat for a while before lying down. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
There was a knock on the door. He thought he had imagined it. The knocking continued and grew louder. He sat up straight in bed. It was dark around. He got up and walked towards the door in darkness, he switched on the lights before opening the door. The last person he had expected to see was standing at the door. He had wanted her to be there, he had thought about her all through the day. He stepped back and she entered the room. She reached out and touched his forehead –
“You still have high fever” she said and walked in towards the kitchen
He watched as she prepared cologne water and dipped his kerchief in it.
“Lie down” she said as she walked back towards him. He smiled. He did as she asked him to do.
She sat on the bed next to him and kept the strip of kerchief on his forehead. She ran her fingers through his hair. It felt good. He closed his eyes. She ran her fingers over his cheek, the tingling sensation travelled throughout the body. But, it felt different; it was nothing like he had felt when she had taken his hand in hers and held it tightly close to her chest. Maybe, it was because he was sick and he was so desperately hoping to feel her touch that when it actually happened it seemed to be less than what he expected. He did not care, as long as she was with him, sitting next to him on his bed, he did not care about anything else.
“I tried not to come; but I could not stop myself, I had to come and see you. I had not seen you for a couple of days and it did not feel good.” She said and ran her hand over his chest; tickling the hair on his chest and then she bent over him and kissed him on the mouth. At first he responded, kissing her back with passion but then he placed his hand over her shoulder and held her at a distance. Something was wrong. He looked at her again; the image of Mansi blurred and disappeared and was replaced by someone else, a face he recognised. The face of his friend to whom he had confessed his feelings for Mansi. He pushed her back and sat up straight in bed.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” he said, suddenly furious
“What’s wrong? You were kissing me a moment ago.” His friend said and then it dawned upon her. “Oh, so you thought I was someone else. You were thinking about that bitch while you kissed me!” she said bitterly and stepped further away.
“You are still thinking about that bitch who never cared about you. Who humiliated you, hurt you and left you alone. She is not coming back, she’s gone. She is going to give back the keys of her room and go and leave with some rich old dude, as far as I know.” She said, each and every word full of hatred for Mansi; the woman her friend loved. He was such a fool.
“What does that bitch have that I do not have?” she asked. “I can give you more than what she has to offer.” She did not know what she was saying; the only thing she knew was she loved him, had always loved him. She had waited patiently, but this new bitch had stepped in and ruined her chances. She had almost given up on him, convincing herself that the only thing that mattered was that he was happy. But, he was not happy. She had seen him cry.
She moved closer and had almost pulled her t-shirt over her head when he yelled “Get out”
She took off the shirt, anyway. It was too late to stop her fluid motion. She wanted him to look at her; she believed that if he looked at her, maybe he would give in; forget the bitch and make love to her.
“Get Out” he yelled again and walked towards her. He held her by the arm and pushed her out of the room and closed the door on her face. She stood there at the door, staring blankly at it; her t-shirt in her hand and then she started crying.
Rohan took a deep breath and sat back on the bed. He held his head in his hands and thought about what had just happened. The girl he had considered his friend had walked into his room, kissed him on the mouth, called Mansi a bitch, cursed her, accused her and then tried to seduce him by taking off her shirt. What was she thinking!
She did not deserve being thrown out topless, a voice in his head said. He agreed. He should have not pushed her out of the room like this. If Mansi had humiliated him, he had done exactly the same thing to his friend. But, he had been furious because of the cursing and the accusations. He was not the kind of man to be rude to anyone. He got up and opened the door of his room. He searched for her; she was nowhere to be seen. Despite the weakness he walked out and climbed down the steps to go towards her room. Before he could reach the door he saw her making out with their common friend. He turned around as she took of her t-shirt yet again.
