Chapter 63: chapter 63

MADHAV“Huh? Like what?” Sruthi asks with a frown.“A timid woman with hesitations to speak or ask what is on her mind.”“I am a timid woman, Madhav,” Sruthi says in a defensive voice. “Praveen always told me how timid I was and that was what he liked about me.”GOD! One day or the other, I am going to find that sonofabitch and punch him in the face for making Sruthi like this. “I don’t care what that prick Praveen told you. He is your past. Let me tell you Sruthi, no one gets to decide who you are. Only you do. I don’t know how you were with Praveen but with me, you were always bold and fierce. I want you to continue being like that. I don’t want you to hesitate when you speak to me. I want to you talk with me with no filters. This timid version of yours doesn't suit you. Come on, bring out that snark and spark you have.”Sruthi watches me in confusion. I am not sure if she understood me. I don’t know what went inside her head in a few seconds after I left the kitchen. She e. Even when she is scared of me, she puts up an act of boldness. I am not going to lie but I never liked how she was with Praveen. She was always hesitant and nervous around him. She hid her opinions from him and agreed with whatever he did or said. If it was agonizing to watch her with Praveen then it was unbearable to see her get pushed around by him. She may not know it yet but I know how much she agreed to Praveen’s family rules. She was sweet with his parents and relatives even when many of them told her how lucky she was to get Praveen as her husband. I hated how they always belittled her for her humble occupation and life. She put up with it all and tolerated them all for the sake of that bastard. But, he cheated her in the end. My blood boils in fury. She may have the heart to forgive him but I don’t. That bastard will get a beating from me for using Sruthi.“I will help you with wound,” Sruthi says in a determined tone.I smile because this is the Sruthi I know. The one with determination and vigour, “No, I will do it myself.”Sruthi raises her brow and tries to grab the disinfectant bottle from me. I lean back on the couch and raise my hand in the air with the bottle out of her reach.“Madhav, give that to me now,” Sruthi says huffing out a breath in frustration.“Nope. Not happening honey,” I say smugly. My smugness only adds more to her frustration and she looks more determined.She exhales a breath and there is a challenging look in her eyes, “Then don't regret what I am going to do now.”She suddenly grabs my collar with a force that I wasn't expecting. I am so unprepared that move that I fall on the couch when she pushes me. I fall on the couch with my hand holding the bottle still raised. All the air leave my lungs as she puts her knee on either side of my waist. Her eyes are gleaming with mischief as she bends down closer to me.“Sruthi,” my voice is thick and I myself don't recognise it.What kind of torture is this? This is the most intimate we have been and my control is already slipping. A hand that is not holding the bottle grips the couch in a dead grip. A little more pressure and I am sure I will tear the leather.Sruthi grins at me as she leans closer to me. Her lavender smells drives me crazy and I stare at her lips. Her fingers slowly trace a path up my arm. Her movements are sure and unhurried like she knows what she is doing. I am lost in her touch. But it can even count as a touch since she is only tracing it with her two fingers. I am fully aware of all the places where our bodies are touching. Her fingers reach my elbow and then travel up the wrist. Her fingers close around my palm that is holding the something. I don't even remember what I am holding. What were we even talking about before this?Sruthi brings her lips closer to my ear. Her breath is hot on my neck and I feel my desires raising their head. Her voice is a sweet whisper, “Madhav, be a good boy and hand over the bottle. Let me take care of the wound.”Bottle? What bottle? I blink at her and then remember the bottle. Oh, Yes! We were arguing about the disinfectant bottle. I lossen the grip on the bottle and she grabs it from my hand a triumphant smile. One moment, she is literally lying above me and the next moment she is siting on the couch with a huge grin on her face with the bottle in her hand. I take two deep breaths and swallow three times before sitting up on the couch. What the hell? I thought she would snap at me and try to get the bottle by force but I never expected her to do this. Is this what is called seduction ? I can still feel how soft her body felt and how delicious she smelled.“Why did you push me on the couch to get the bottle?” I ask.She grins with a shrug, “I don't know. Something told me that you will give me the bottle if I took by surprise and I did what first came to my mind. Now, enough with the talk. Let's get you patched up.”My thoughts come to a standstill as Sruthi takes my injured hand in hers gently. A whistle sounds somewhere from the kitchen but I am too focused on her to notice anything else. She puts my hand palm upward on her tigh before opening the disinfectant bottle. She uses a ear bud stick to dab some disinfectant and clean the cut. I wince when the disinfectant makes contact with my skin. “It is okay, the pain will subside,” she murmurs in a soothing voice and I relaize something.“Do you take care of the kids in the pre-school when they get injured?” “No. That is the job of the school nurse. After they come back to class from the medical room, the kids usually grumble and whine about the pain. It takes me quite some time to calm them down.”“Why did you choose to become a pre-school teacher?” the question slips out of me.“Why?” she repeats my question as she rips open the bandage cover. She frowns with concentration as she wraps the bandage around my finger. “Honestly, I love kids. After my parents’ death I become wary of the adults around me. I realized how fake the adults were and how flimsy their promises were. I started having trust issues after Vikram was sent to the juvenile. I had no idea whom to trust. People would approach me for ulterior motives and with each day, it become difficult for me to trust people. I found out that I could no longer trust a person’s word. I doubted every one of their actions. I was afraid to mingle with others.  It was easier for me to interact with the innocent children than the corrupted adults. If I had chosen any other profession, I had to interact with adults. I think trust is important between colleagues but I didn’t have it in me to trust others, so, I chose this job.”She meets my eyes, “Do you think that I am a coward for choosing this job?”“Are you afraid of my judgement?” I ask examining the bandage she had put on my finger. “Maybe,” her voice is soft and hardly audible.“Why are you afraid of my judgment?” my voice is also low.“I don’t know,” she answers looking at her feet. I can easily guess the thoughts going through her head. For some reason, she feels insecure because of her job. But, I am the last person she would be worried about judging her professional choice. Another whistle sounds in the kitchen.I cup her jaw and make her look into my eyes, “Did Praveen ever call you a coward for being a pre-school teacher?”She blinks in surprise, “Huh? No, it is not like that. He never directly called me a coward or any names but I always felt I lacked something when I was with him. He knows a lot of prominent and highly successful women in the industry but I had no idea why he chose me. I both felt lucky and burdened when we were dating. It was—”She shakes her head and stops mid-sentence, “He is my past now. You still haven’t answered my question.”“I don’t think you are a coward for choosing this job. We all have our circumstances and situations in life that push us to make some choices.”“What situation made you into a killer?” Sruthi asks holding her breath. There is no judgment on her face. Her eyes plead with mine desperately for the answer. I sigh internally. I am not sure why she wants to know about my shitty childhood. She is only going to hate me more after hearing about it. A loud whistle sounds again in the kitchen.“That is the fourth whistle of the pressure cooker. Don’t you think that I should go and turn off the stove now?” I ask standing up quickly. Without waiting for her reply, I run to the kitchen to turn off the stove.❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥