Prateek~
She was, by far, the most beautiful thing I had ever set my eyes on. The waist-length pitch black hair that had specks of brown when she turned against the sunlight, the denims hugging her curvy hips just right. And when she moved her hands around to illustrate a point of her animated conversation, a bit of creamy skin came into view as her flimsy top rose just a little. The rose bud lips which always sparkled with neon colored gloss were distracting to say the least, my proximity to them on an everyday basis was dangerous to my own sanity. And her long legs competed with a generous bust for attention – needless to say, she was a siren, a siren who held the heart of every man within a five mile radius captive.
But the eyes drew me to them – pitch black with flecks of grey, flecks that spoke of myriad emotions but always closely guarded. In those random moments that I would catch her absently staring into space in the cafeteria, I wondered what she was thinking, what she guarded so closely that those angelic black eyes did not reflect a soul.
I did not find it hard to believe that my brother had fallen head over heels for this bewitching creature.
***
Poulami~
I looked at him longingly, he was just…so handsome, so smart and so much fun to be around. I don’t know if it was the fact that he was intelligent AND good-looking that kept drawing my gaze back to him or if it was that he was friendly to me and never anything more, despite my best efforts, that I wanted his undivided attention even more.
Yet, there was something mysterious about him, something a tad bit dangerous, a glint that indicated there was something more to the popular all-rounder that he was. Once, I’d caught sight of that look, just a shade of the devil, but it was gone before I could even register it was there. And right after, the dimpled smile would take over the chiseled features and my cause was lost.
***
Poulami~
It was the coldest, rainiest night in a really long while and Bangalore didn’t really feel like her own self. I’d spent the evening with cups of steaming masala chai and a Danielle Steele, curled comfortably on the wicker chair by the window. Occasionally, I looked out at the dimming light and traced droplet patterns on the misted up window, my thoughts straying to the past, the present and him. I wondered if anything would ever come to a head.
I wasn’t the kind of a girl who sat back and watched things pass her by – I took charge and reached out for what I wanted. But asking him out, dropping hints, finding my way into his circle…. Nothing had worked. I wondered if I wanted to take things one step further and bed him – no man in his right senses would ever deny me that. But is that what I really wanted?
I started to feel like he was becoming an obsession.
***
She uncurled herself from the chair and went into the bedroom, the floor length mirror drew her to its beautiful reflection as she contemplated her own virtues. Well, if she could break someone’s heart just to better her own prospects, couldn’t she sleep with someone to make him hers? And it wasn’t like she would be settling for anything below her standards… he was hot. She sank into the bathtub, immersed in lukewarm water that smelt of lavender and thoughts of him.
The doorbell rang at 12 in the night and her first thought was of imminent danger. She checked her phone to see if someone had messaged or called, but nothing… She ignored the bell and went back to toweling off. But it rang again.
She went to the door and peeped out through the hole – that is when her heart skipped a beat and her stomach knotted itself; she opened the bolts. There he was, six full feet of pure male, dripping wet from the incessant rains, radiating heat and intent clear in his darkened eyes.
Even Adonis couldn’t hold a candle to this specimen, she thought, as her breathing became a little difficult.
***
Prateek~
Long legs dripping with water and the towel that barely covered anything looked like it was going to fall any second - she had probably been taking a shower. I couldn’t control myself anymore, she had been wreaking havoc in my life for far too long and I could care two hoots about the consequences.
***
Poulami~
Is he drunk? He has to be. Is he really here? I should go change into something more appropriate? But wait, isn’t this exactly what I wanted? I can’t believe he is here. Am I reading this wrong? Will he say something already? I could stand like this forever.
***
He caught her lithe body up in one swift motion and brought his lips down to meet hers with frenzied need, his minty breath obliterating whatever was left of her thought process. There was no surprise in her compliance but her breath caught…. And stayed there. She felt like a rag doll in his strong arms, her frailty struck him suddenly.
He pushed her up against the wall next to the door and ravished the rose bud lips that had been occupying his thoughts. Her breath came in short gasps as she decided to take charge – her hands snaked into his thick, dark hair as she pulled closer and she was rewarded by the widening of his eyes.
The door was banged shut.
Should I stop?
No…..!!
They tripped and twisted their way to the bed, they barely made it there. The perfect curves that he had spent a long time watching now became putty in his hands as she sighed and surrendered to his iron will. His strong, broad chest crushed her under its weight as they tripped and fell onto the white sheets, a tangle of arms and legs and promise-laden breaths.
He was not an obsession. She had finally found someone worth falling in love with.
She couldn’t wait. Neither could he.
There were no games played, no plays made, no coyness, no explanations.
Just plain, raw need.
She started seeing stars under his expert ministrations and her whole world exploded into a million galaxies of stardust.
That was the moment he chose to drive the knife straight to her heart, that black heart. He took it out and drove it in again. And again.
The stars that she had been seeing turned a bloody, bloody red as her orgasm turned into painful surprise. And then shock.
You broke my brother.
You drove him to the grave.
All on a whim?
You don’t deserve to live.
You don’t even deserve a decent death.
He spat, wiped his tear-streaked face and left.
***
No one went to her funeral. No one ever found him again.
