The Vile.

Chapter : 28

Read Him

Vasudha :

My eyes open to a boom of thunder. It has to be four or five in the morning. The windows keep rattling. Although it takes me a few seconds to recollect where I am but the light from the momentary lightning sneaks into the room as if to remind me everything about last night. As I try to stand up from the floor to close the windows I feel a tug at the shawl I wrapped around myself.

I turn around to get a look at it and what I find forces me back to my previous position.

The huge hand is gripping the edge of my shawl with every bit of strength it could acquire even in a sleeping state. My eyes move from his hand to his face. The man is actually deep in slumber. His scarred face doesn't look so scary and unpredictable now. It rather shows the tiny human part still left inside of him. He looks innocent, carefree and less alert.

Yes, less alert, because a part of him is still insecure. Worried, even. That's the part that's clutching onto my shawl for dear life, as if I can break my promise anytime and leave him alone. Why, though? Why am I here? What does he want from me? I have seen him calming down in my presence. What I couldn't understand is, why? Who am I to him? A 'no one'. He doesn't even know me apart from that small interaction at Ashray, when I didn't even know who he was. I could've taken advantage of this situation, I could've harmed him if I wanted. Then why?

My eyes flicker between where he is holding the cloth and his face that's free of every evil intentions. The scar on his face suddenly looks painful to watch. As it reminds me of every other scar on his body, reminds me of how he made no sound at all while a strived hard to stitch those cuts and slashes. He didn't even flinch for a moment. How much endurance does he have? What made him like this?

My father always says I am too emotional and this is the first time I seem to believe his words. I am sitting on the cold floor beside the bed where Mr. D' is sleeping. Mr. Danuj D', the man who took every single responsibility to turn my life upside down. And yet I am here, feeling sympathetic towards him, feeling bad for him. What's wrong with me? I have no idea. But right now as I am looking at this man the only question that's occurring in my mind is : "For what?" So much fame, so much wealth, so much power, for what? At the end of the day what does he get? This pain? This lonely and secluded life, where he can't even show people his face? Why would anyone choose a lifestyle like this? What made him choose it?

The cold breeze hits my bare cheek. I try to pull the cloth once again but as I try, his hand instinctively grasps it more tightly. A small smile creeps on my face as I witness the stark contrast between the two personalities. One, that's awake, blunt, rude and evil and the other that's asleep, calm, innocent and insecure. I prefer the second one better as it doesn't try to cover the truth so desperately.

Not having any other options I take off the shawl from my body leaving that on the bed, right beside him. I stand by the window for a few minutes looking at the trees that are trying hard to survive the storm and not break. They don't submit to the forceful storm. They get into an otherworldly rythm with it. As if they have learnt how to tackle it's fierceness. That's nature. Everything has it's own strength, what they need is a proper medium to propel it.

Sighing, I close the windows. As I turn around my eyes fall on him once again, still asleep, the difference is how his arms have pulled the shawl to his chisled chest in a seemingly tight embrace. Yes, he does have a good amount of muscles that give his body an even harder exterior to tolerate these gruesome incidents. Shaking my head I decide to leave for the kitchen, because sleep seems not likely to come again.

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Chicken sweet corn soup and bread toast! I guess this will do.

If only baba could have some. I couldn't make him good food for so many days. Always busy with this and that.

Thinking about it.. why can't he? Can't I just pack and send some with Ojas? He can hand it over to Raju. The mere thought makes me happy. Baba might have been craving to eat something made by me, by now. I was deep inside my thoughts when the earthshaking growl forcefully pulls me out of my thoughts.

I can hear him. He is screaming.. my name? What?! What's happening? I heard it once again.

"Vasudha..!"

His baritone should have awoken everyone around this area. I immediately ran out of the kitchen only to find Nihal standing infront of Danuj like a dead corpse,deprived of ages of good sleep. Mumbling something like,
"She should be around man, go back to sleep!"

"I can't find her anywhere. Her room is open..s-she left me..she left me alone..and.." And that's when his eyes fall on me. His heaving chest visibly calms down, his insane eyes turn relaxed and then it starts to move from my face to my hand, which is still holding the a knife filled with butter. And I feel like explaining myself for the first time.

"Umm.. I wasn't feeling sleepy anymore so I came down. For compensating, I have made breakfast for us." I say with a sheepish smile.

"Th-that wasn't neccessary." He utters. Once again I am greeted with his asshole self.

"I think I am not sorry. I can't stay here idle. I need to occupy myself in something atleast. Although, I am sorry Nihal. I think you can have another two hours nap. I'll wake you up." I offer.

"Really?!" Nihal asks me, giving a weird glance towards Danuj, who in turn clenches his jaw and turns his face.
"You're a life saver darling!" He winks and gets on his feet.

The very moment he leaves I decide to get back to the kitchen when Danuj decides to seek my attention by clearing his throat.

"Breakfast?" He asks which brings a small smile to my face. Although I don't know why smiling at his activities always leads to mixed feelings; one that is of pure happiness and the other that immediately points out the sin I'm doing.

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Holding the tray I come out to the hall. The smell of cigarettes immediately hits my nostrils. Following the smell my eyes travel to the source of it. Ruffled hair, stubbled face, black t-shirt, grey pyjama and that distant but intense pair of grey eyes which are looking outside through the window, are everything my eyes could focus on. I have to agree, he is beautiful, from outside atleast. Forcefully breaking my eyes from him I place the tray on the table infront of the sofa. He snaps his head towards me and that's it, I know I am being stared at.

"These will make you feel better." I say glancing at him for a moment. And that's another mistake I made because his intent eyes pull my attention back towards them again. His eyes, I find them intriguing. They say so much more than his mouth.

"How do you feel now?" I ask genuinely.

"Why do you care?" He comes as blunt as he has always been.

"Because that's what I am good at. Caring." I reply.

"So, I was just another charity case, wasn't I?" He asks slowly advancing towards the table? Or is it me?

"Overestimated. A little more u-unimportant than that." I say, holding my breath, as he swiftly comes too close to my face.

"Was that it? Then the people you consider important might die of your care." He whispers, inches away from my lips, fanning them with his breath.

"No they don't. They enjoy it and care for me in return. That's how they turn important, you know?" I say pretending to be all collected.

"You have answers for everything, don't you?" He says coming menacingly close.

"Yes, I do. Because my life is crystal clear. I don't pretend to be something or someone that I am not. That makes it easier for me Mr. D'." The moment these words leave my mouth, I regret ever uttering them. Because I watch his expression change from curiosity to shock and then to anger. Glaring at me, he immediately turns towards the table leaving me standing there.

I know I read him, I read him like an open book. Something, he will never allow anyone to do.

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Love, Puja. 😊