Stay

Chapter 12 - Yesterday's clothes

Tw: non explicit sexual content

Alan glanced at the text from Fiza one last time before turning his attention to the door in front of him. He took a deep breath, bracing himself to face Mownika.

They had decided to meet on Friday nights and he hadn't seen her in a week. A part of him considered ending things with her, but what was the point?

He knocked on the door, and Mownika greeted him with a smile as she opened it. "I thought I heard you outside," she said cheerfully. Alan simply nodded in response. "How was your week?" she asked, attempting to engage him in conversation. He shrugged, not particularly interested in small talk.

"You can talk to me, you know?" Mownika persisted, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I won't bite, unless you want me to," she added playfully, alluding to their intense and passionate lovemaking. Alan couldn't help but laugh. "There's the smile," Mownika remarked with satisfaction.

Alan couldn't comprehend why Mownika was being so kind to him. Reflecting on their relationship, he realized that Mownika had always been good to him. It was he who had been pushing her away, adhering strictly to the rules of their arrangement.

Mownika poured him a mug of beer, and he drank it while observing her. He silently hoped that she wasn't developing romantic feelings for him. He preferred to keep their dynamic uncomplicated, avoiding any expectations or potential disappointments.

He didn't deserve to be in a relationship. Not after what he had done.

Mownika had always been the one to take the initiative, eagerly undressing him as soon as he entered the room. However, today she sat across from him, calmly sipping her beer.

Alan was uncertain about how to proceed. He finished his beer and patiently waited for Mownika to finish hers.

Just then, his phone buzzed, indicating a new message. It was from Fiza, and it simply read, "WNTT. Lib tomo." Alan became distracted, guessing correctly that Fiza's decision to spend time with him earlier had caused negative consequences with her friends at the hostel.

Mownika noticed his distraction and inquired, "What is it?" Alan, caught off guard, couldn't help but smile as he replied, "Fiza."

Mownika's response was a curt "Oh." She then asked him directly, "Are you sleeping with her?" Alan looked at her, still smiling and shook his head. "No, she's not like that," he reassured her. However, Mownika's expression shifted to annoyance.

In an attempt to divert the tension, Alan reached out and gently parted Mownika's lips with his fingers. Their eyes locked, and he slowly trailed his hand down her neck, gently caressing her curves.

He picked her up with one quick motion and placed her on the table. He leaned her against the wall and entered her. The table rhythmically hit the kitchen wall with each movement, creating a drumbeat-like sound punctuated with their heavy breathing.

When they were finished, Alan zipped up his pants and helped clear the table. As he made to leave, Mownika reached out, grasping his hand, and pleaded, "Please, stay."

Alan recoiled, feeling a surge of panic, and quickly withdrew his hand. Mownika's expression shifted from hurt to anger, but she knew she had to find a way to make him stay. She swiftly retracted her words and attempted to salvage the situation, saying, "I mean, if you want to smoke up with me, you should stay."

Alan hesitated but the pull of escape was too strong to resist. Giving in to temptation, he nodded in agreement. Marijuana seemed like a temporary relief from his worries and fears, promising a calmness.

They stayed up late, sharing laughter and finding amusement in the simplest of things. Mownika, caught up in the moment, did not want this to end. And she thought, why not do this every Friday?