Chapter 17

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With amusing tingling in his heart, Shivaay watched as Annika walked the length of the room with her legs straight, chin up and hands gripping her waist.

As if she was a runaway model modelling for the footwear brand. He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed once again a few seconds later when he found the selling receipt.

"Tum pagal ho!" Shivaay howled eyeing the straps of the footwear which went around her ankle. Nothing was covering her sole other than the block of a raised platform. Why are ladies this tangled? Was his wife the only one in his category? He pondered.

[Trans- you are mad]

"Mein? Me?" Annika, who was ramping the length ceased for a second before gasping for air. How dare he comment on her!

[Trans- Me?]

"Aur nahi toh kya? Mera baap? Pagal ho tum."

[Trans- who else other than you? My father? You are mad]

"Same to you. Back to you. No return." Annika pushed her lower lip out and lashed angrily.

Shivaay sighed yet once again as Annika twisted her mouth and turned her face away from him. She was huffing-puffing. And he found it too cute to resist pinching her round cheeks which were now rosy pink.

Shivaay stood up, shoving the rotating chair making space to stand and spoke. "Who purchases this stupid slipper for eight thousand? Only those who are nuts would dare to go and purchase them. And anyway, with your scholarship! How stupid are you, just like this slipper! Paragon bathroom chappals are available for two hundred, you know that."

"It's not slipper or chappal! These are six-inch point stilettos. And it's only seven thousand four hundred five." She clarified the painting on the receipt, pronouncing each number. "And for your kind information, there is a difference between bathroom chappals and my stilettos."

"As if that makes any sense!" Shivaay scoffed at her and walked towards the closet and started pulling other new collections of formal clothes.

"Shivaay yaar!" Annika whined, watching him pull her things showing how she has wasted money on this stuff.

[Trans- dude]

"Aap ko bas cosmetic products ya phir naye kapdee ke padi hain," Shivaay told as he arranged the messed-up closet. Especially concerning her side of the closet. It was a mess. At times he wondered if the clothes were hanky or some tops. It was confusing, with the length that was much little than that of his large white handkerchief. He remembered the time when he was stranded hyperventilating and wheezing as he was folding the laundry clothes, and by chance, he was caught with threads which Annika named the newest trend. Rolling his eyes at her side glaring and commenting he had continued to fold them with a stupefied countenance.  

[Trans- you are always into cosmetics products or new clothes. You are too find of them]

Last week he had given a thunderclap lecture on possessing, surveillance and folding her clothes in thirteen by seven inches. that is what he was taught by his father. though he wasn't keen on carrying forward his father's heritage of a few punches here and there. He also gave her a crash course in colour arrangement and he well knew that won't be followed by Her Highness! 

Please note the sarcasm.

Annika pouted as he continued gesturing to look at the messed-up wardrobe. the winter and summer clothes were piled in one corner along with her few hand clutches that were stretched out across.

"You are hard to maintain. Expensive biwi ho!" Shivaay sharply told eyeing the expensive hand clutches and her favourite terracotta pieces of jewellery. If the value of the values were counted it would have been thousands. Shivaay pondered if his dearest shoes were something to this match. 

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