Amour Vindicatif : Love Of The Callous Hearts

20. SICK = OUT?

[ Long Update ]

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"You're hot."

Whatever RK was about to say sublimed from his head in an instant. His mind going completely blank for a second. Before he could process the words any better, he saw a thin, feminine hand move towards his face, immediately snapping him out of his momentary silence. He left her wrist and caught her other hand with force just as it was about to touch his face, eyeing the owner of it with an intense look.

"Such a fine vision, isn't it?" He raised a brow, tilting his head towards her a bit. "Too bad it couldn't see the fate of daring to enter my room."

He shifted his gaze to their palms inches away from his face, then back to her.

"Don't ever, and I repeat, EVER try to touch me." He spoke in a dangerously calm, low voice.

Prachi looked at him, unaffected, for two seconds. Then RK felt something soft on his cheek. He shifted his eyes towards the side of his face, only to find Prachi's other hand - the back of her palm - placed on his cheek now. Her audacity made him grit his teeth in anger, as his grip on her hand tightened on its own.

"What do you-"

"I obeyed you, RK Sir." Prachi's words made him look back at her with fiery eyes.

"I didn't try to touch you." She said nonchalantly. "I did touch you."

"Such a fine brain, you say. Too bad it never really gets used at times." She saw RK about to open his mouth. However, continued with her words.

"Like the time I told you I've no more interest in watching your face than you do (in watching hers). Seems like you couldn't get it. Let me make things a bit more clear." Prachi said in a sweet tone.

"You are warm, RK Sir." Said she, as she watched RK's eyes narrowing at her. The anger was still there in his face as well as his eyes.

Prachi then moved her hand which lay on his cheek till now, to his forehead. The back of her palm pressed onto his fair skin.

"Sick. If you prefer it so much." Uttered she.

RK left her hand he had been holding. Then shoved her other palm away from his forehead. Moving a couple of steps back, he adjusted his hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants. Then still looking at Prachi, gestured towards the door of his room with his brows as he spoke the next word.

"Out."

Before she could say another word, a shrill noise interrupted the two. Prachi pulled her cellphone out of the pocket of her black denim. Seeing the caller ID, she turned the screen of the cellphone to RK as she spoke next.

"Can't, Sir. That's my job. Specially not now that you're sick." She said the last word a bit louder, making RK frown at her with annoyance.

"Yes, Sir." Prachi answered into the cellphone.

"-- Everything is fine here. We were late cuz RK Sir has a fever." Then she listened for a brief moment to whatever Aryan said.

RK turned away from the annoying woman, moving towards his bed table to reach for his phone.

"-- Ye- Stop." She said the last word in a loud tone, almost yelling suddenly. RK paused for a moment, halting his steps reflexively due to her voice, not sure what the crazy woman was saying. Was she ordering him?

He turned to her with a brow raised in question and a look of extreme arrogance.

She simply indicated with her eyes to the floor below him. And RK dropped his gaze to the same, realising the thick shards of glass that had shattered on the ground earlier still lying there, shining against the grey marble floor. He was standing almost on the top of the shattered pieces. And Prachi was almost ready to see his angry looks once again.