Strangers

Part 3

"What the fuck do you-" I stop, "YOU?"

Amusement flickers in the way he smiles.

I recognise the person in front of me. My stranger. I mean, not mine, but the one I kissed. Fahmaan Khan.

"Aren't you some run away girl," he smirks. I just stare at him in disbelief.

When I don't answer, he goes on, "So, you're here for your bachelorette, getting married... and you still kissed me?"

A red hue appears on my cheeks as I looked at him in

A red hue appears on my cheeks as I looked at him in embarrassment.

"You were the bartender?" I ask, still shocked.

"Yes, genius!" He sighs, "And just for the record, I'm not a bartender."

"Manager, sorry," I correct myself sheepishly.

This time, he rolls his eyes. "I'm the owner."

"Of course you are," I mutter under my breath. Involuntarily, we had started walking again without either of us noticing.

"So?" He looks at me, "Tell me your story."

"What is with you and wanting to hear my story?" | ask him, rather playfully.

"Well, I'm a rockstar, you don't know me?" He asked me, squinting his eyes at me.

I blink my eyes dubiously, letting his face settle in, and then I nod negatively. I've spent a lot of my years behind medical text books, when I should've been fangirling like any other person of my age.

Amusement settles in his eyes again.

"I don't see how you being a rockstar answers the question of why you want to know my story?" I ask, confused.

"Well, I am also the song writer of my band. I like listening to other people's stories, some stick behind and become inspiration for me to write new songs," he says.

"Ah!" I click my tongue. It made a lot more sense now.

"So?" His voice trails.

"I don't think I want me or my story to be a song, fahmaan. So no, sorry, I don't think I'll tell you my story," I tease.

Disappointment was clear on his face, and I couldn't help but wonder how he was so easy to read. He was so expressive.

"I think you owe it to me," he says for a moment. I look at him with questioning eyes. He goes on, "Well, you did kiss me without my actual permission back today, so I think you owe it to me."

My eyes widen. I fluster. He had hit the bulls-eye, that indecisive move of kissing a stranger that I was still embarrassed about.

"Okay," I say in a slow voice.

"Okay?" He repeats, surprised. I bet he expected some resistance from my side and gave in too easily.

"But after that, you have to promise to let me be a secret caged in your heart, like page that was torn away from your book. We never talk about this night, and especially not that kiss, ever again," I condition.

He thinks for a moment, and then agrees, "Promise. We will enter and end this night as strangers. And just so you know, I keep my promises." He smiled. I returned it.

My heart beats faster. I'm walking out with a stranger, and I might end up being stabbed to death. But if I ain't allowed to walk out with a stranger, how can my parents expect me to spend my entire life with one?

"So?" He asks, bringing me out of my reverie as we walk side by side."I don't have a story," I say, truthfully. "And this isn't my bachelorette. I'm not engaged, or getting married... yet. But I'm about to. My parents like this guy whom they want me to marry, he's their business partner's son. He's a stranger. All I know is his name and I've barely met him twice. But I have to do it, because it benefits both their companies. I don't want to do this. I feel just suffocated, studying all my life and then just marrying away to a person I don't know. So here I am, trying to forget it all and live my life normally for just one trip, and now, one night."

It's weird how I just put my story ahead like an open book and let him read it, a complete stranger.

"So, you aren't that girl who considers an arranged marriage a slow fairytale of falling in love with your soulmate?" I could feel his intense gaze on me as he pulled an eyebrow up.

I nod negatively. "I might fall in love with him eventually. But I don't want to. I want to live life now like girls of my age, study more, experience love on my own before I'm showed how to live my life."

"I get it." He nods, "Have you tried talking to your parents then?"

"I can't," I sigh. I wish he could understand how my parents wouldn't care about what I want, they're the kind of people who love their business more than anything else in the world.

"You know, I'd give you two easy advices. First, nobody knows magic here. They can't read you. The more walls you build, the more you'd find yourself troubled in this world. You need to let people in, let your veils fall, let them know what you feel and then the world will automatically be different for you. Stop hiding," He whispered softly and I absorb what he says.

"And second..." his voice trails again before he picks up pace, "don't blame yourself for the things that the world has done wrong to you, stop forcing yourself to do things to make someone else happy. Maybe you do fall in love with the man you'd get married to, but your heart will never be happy because that isn't what you wanted in the first place. No one can look out for your happiness except yourself, so once in a while, close your eyes, take a deep breath and follow your heart, even if that includes you to go against the whole world because it makes you happy.""Maybe," he sighs, "But if they brought you into this world, they have to also let you live in it. It can be selfish, but if you don't prioritise yourself first, or do things that make you happy, how can you expect the world to?"

""Maybe," he sighs, "But if they brought you into this world, they have to also let you live in it. It can be selfish, but if you don't prioritise yourself first, or do things that make you happy, how can you expect the world to?"

"You know, you're good with this," I look up at him goofily. He raises an eyebrow. "At being a stranger," I add. He laughs.

Neither of us realised how while walking, we had reached the Eiffel Tower again. The place where I met him in the first place.

"Is this your first time in Paris?" He asks, as we sit on a bench across the beautifully lit monument. It was glorious in the day, but being lit up like this at night... it was magical in a way I couldn't quite express into words.

"Yes," I agree, "What about you?"

"I live here," he says, "My family is back in India though."

Before could reply, he goes on. "Have you ever been to the top of the tower?" He points at the Eiffel Tower in front of us.

I shook my head. "Never got the time."

"Let's go," he looks at me, with challenging eyes.

"Are you crazy?" look at him with wide eyes. It was a cold night. "Isn't that like... illegal?"

"For a girl who walked up confidently and kissed a stranger, you have are quite unwilling to adventure, Nandini," he looks at me.

I roll my eyes. My eyes roughly glance at the time on my phone. 3:47 A.M.

I knew he was waiting for a reaction. Ignoring him, I open my messages, and quickly type one to Alice;

I'll be out until late. Don't worry. Have company. x

3:48 A.M.

I look up at him then. He rubs his hands together, waiting for an answer.

I let a grin spread through my lips. "Let's go!"