Dimps POV
Waking up naked with a random guy in some random bed was err definitely not on my bucket list. My eyes with due hesitation eager to look beneath those sheets, to look at his face, of course, I added this sentence abruptly watching these trains of thoughts make their dispersal.
Yesterday what was it? Ughh I swear if only I could remember. The things that alcohol puts me through...If only partying was the last thing I minded!
The equitable distribution of my clothes everywhere in the room and my back god no, how many rounds did we surrender with?
Slithering my fingers on the side of my waist, I made my way to collect the shattered remains of this absolute tyranny, Frederic Sorrieu, way to go I have better things to do than remember the republic painting dude from those terrorizing history lessons. Those days were still gold.
Even though his utopian vision was not.
Wearing all of my clothes, I tippy-toed towards the body-living body- snoring living body, just to get a glimpse at him and never run into him ever again. Little by little I withdrew the covering and all I could think was 'he is sure hot.'
With that well-built body and gorgeous face. Hot. But hot guys can sure be serial killers. So, it's better not to take risks, even though it sounds pretty stupid.
Examining my surroundings, as I drifted past the room and the lobby, it sure was a perfect 5-star. Anyways soon my responsibilities caught up in my mind, all I could think of was "ROOOHIIIII", I shrieked.
'Shit shit shit' I mentally cursed myself, of how in the world I could leave her there with that asshole. PRANAY.
He sure still was the same and swooning over her and it was disgusting. Honestly, I thought he would have changed his ways, but what can one expect from a kutte ki pooch. Not me quoting Meesh Ma's words, but still, it's time to get serious.
They sure dated those days but I never knew the reason why they broke up, All Roohi told me was that it was mutual. Mysterious...as mysterious as the Bermuda triangle. He is not worth that though.
Recycling my now-wasted memories, I began connecting the threads.
We entered the club, me remarking his muscles, we talking shit about him, him approaching us, he forgetting my name, our long-time rift, and next him telling me to meet him at the backside.
I went there, yes I've got a grasp of that. Him telling me I'm beautiful and stuff and blah blah and me not buying any of that shit. Him, trying to kiss me, I punching his face and grabbing the bunch of lingering hair on his head, even though he sure is hairy making my life-term plan of turning him bald. And there was this mysterious guy, who kind of helped me and we drank, after that, it was all blank.
Lastly, as the climax, he was none other than the gorgeous dude I made out with. As far as I can remember...talking to him, he seemed good, not the one to force a woman. But then why would a man make out with a drunk woman? Maybe he was drunk too. Mistakes happen.
My head is aching too much, after all this thinking.
"Meesh Ma and Roohi I'm on my way!" I hooted, thinking how anxious they might have been due to my absence.
"Auto let's go home." My charge had practically died, and I was even more distraught.
"Madam apka home humko kaise pata kaha hai?" He questioned me, with that making me feel very dumb face.
"Ha Ha mera matlab...." I brief him about the address, and whooooosh here we goo. Those sure were some main character vibes, very dumb.
YOU ARE READING
An Arranged Date
Romance'Love Marriage' is something extremely common in my family. My great-grandparents, grandparents, and parents have undergone this so-called ritual, and they have an incoming trust that their posterity will too. But me and love never. This term in my...
