Canvas of Destiny

Chapter six

There's a few things I want to clear, so you don't get confused while reading the chapters ahead.
As It was mentioned in the beginning chapters, that Ishika and Siddhant go way back. So here it is— Ishika calls Siddhant by his nickname 'Jeet'. Don't get confused. 'Siddhant' and 'Jeet' are the same person.
Similarly Ishika calls Nitya as 'Nini'. And Nitya calls Ishika as 'Ishi'. Nitya is also referred as 'mother bird' by Ishika and Rishi. And finally, Ishika's Pov is here.

Happy reading!

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Ishika's POV

I must have done some greater sin in my previous life. Why else would God punish me this way?

Seated at a table for four in the cafeteria, an unusual unease envelops me. Why, you may ask? Rishi, sensing the tension between Jeet and me in the lift, deliberately takes the seat next to mine. On the flip side, Divya gladly occupies the space beside Jeet, who now sits directly across from me, intensifying the awkward atmosphere.

Rishi continued savoring his lunch, completely indifferent to the penetrating glares Jeet shot his way. If looks could be lethal, Rishi would have been long gone, given the intensity of Jeet's stare. However, Rishi remained unbothered.

Then, in a voice so saccharine it almost made me cringe, Divya introduced herself, saying, "Hey, I'm Divya." Call me biased, but I lean more towards spiciness.

This sudden sweetness from Divya triggered Jeet's retreat into his introverted self. He merely nodded and mumbled a curt 'Hello, Divya,' not bothering to share his own name, as if guarding a secret part of himself.

"And I'm Rishi," he declares arrogantly, as if begging for a demise. "Ishika's closest and bestest friend." Oh, hell no. If only Aditya was present, Rishi would find himself six feet under for claiming the title of my 'bestest friend.'

Then, another voice chimes in, "And I am Siddhant Joshi," he announces proudly. "Her boyfriend!" My head snaps towards him in utter disbelief. What. The. Freaking. Hell. Since when? How? Why? He's my boyfriend?

"You're my boyfriend?" I inquire, my confusion evident. Why was I not informed?

"Yes, baby," he responds. Baby? Absolutely not. This cannot be the Siddhant Joshi I know. It's like he's been possessed. He'd use various endearments, but "baby"? No, this is not him.

"For the past six years now!" he remarks, a perpetual grin on his face. What's with the prolonged smile? I get it, we had a thing for two years, of but whatever we had lacked a label, certainly not reaching the level of boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Ah, six years?" I murmur, my voice sounding as if I've been unwell for months. He nods vigorously in confirmation. Strangely, I find that incredibly cute for some unknown reason.

I shifted my gaze towards the other two individuals, both appearing as if they had just witnessed a corpse. I feel you, guys.

Rishi eyed Jeet as though he were the lifeless body, and Divya looked at me as if I had pilfered the last piece of chocolate she concealed in her freezer.

I've had enough. I let out a louder-than-intended thud as my hand collided with the table, successfully snapping them out of their reveries.

"OH MY GOD!" "WHAT THE FUCK?" they both exclaimed simultaneously. Meanwhile, the source of these dramatic reactions sat there with a smug expression on his face. Seriously, did he conquer Mount Everest or something?

"Rishi, Divya. I'd like to have a chat with my boyfriend. Carry on with lunch!" I announce, emphasizing the term boyfriend, all the while shooting a pointed glare at Jeet, who responds with a knowing smile. "Sure, baby," he casually remarks. Damn it.

Exiting the canteen, I stepped into the lift, Siddhant following suit with a casual stroll and hands tucked into his trouser pockets. Luckily, to my relief, no one else joined us in the lift as I pressed the 't' button, directing us to the building's terrace.

Upon arriving at the terrace, I fixed him with a stern glare, signaling the need for an immediate explanation regarding the cafeteria incident. It seemed he grasped the cue, as he promptly began to speak.

"I didn't appreciate the way that guy touched you or claimed to be your closest."

"He didn't make any inappropriate contact with me," I state, teeth gritted. What on earth was he thinking? I wouldn't let any man touch me in the wrong way, and to add to that, I'd willingly let him go? Without breaking his hands? Seriously?

"And I didn't mean it that way!" he exclaims.

"Then be specific," I snap, my patience dwindling rapidly.

"Are you that dense, Ishika? I didn't appreciate the way he touched you, and I wouldn't want any man touching you other than me," he says, his voice slightly irritated.

"Or maybe I just want you to say it plainly and not beat around the bush!" I argue back, locking eyes with him. We've been through this before, and we're not revisiting it. No.

He stares back at me, "You don't want me to beat around the bush." Intensely. "Fine then. Listen, and listen carefully." His voice drops as he invades my personal space. "You, Ishika Sharma, are mine," he declares, sending chills down my spine. "And I will break any man's hand that touches you."

I gulp. I won't let him intimidate me, so I push him away. "I am not yours!" I yell. "You can't just reappear in my life after four fucking years, after you removed me from your life, to claim me as yours." My voice hard as I glare at him.

He starts to say something, but I cut in before him, "What do you take me for?" I ask, anger seeping into my voice. "A mere sketch on your canvas, one that didn't turn out as you desired, so you erased it." His eyes flicker, signaling his discomfort with my choice of words. "And now, after years, you want to redraw it because you believe you made a mistake."

He takes a deep breath, advancing towards me with deliberate, measured steps. Yet, I stand my ground, unyielding. Invading my personal space, he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me close to his chest, catching me off guard as I instinctively place my hands on his chest to steady myself.

"First things first," he says, gazing into my eyes while tucking a strand of my hair behind my ears. "You've always been mine." I resist giving in. "Since the moment you confessed your love six years ago, you've belonged to me." I refuse to surrender to him.

"I am not!" I declare, meeting his gaze squarely. "Nor was I back then. You simply couldn't handle me, so you effortlessly erased me from your life. It was that simple for you." A familiar ache settles in my chest. "I was disposable to you!" My eyes drop to his chest as tears threaten to spill.

I sense his arms loosening, and without glancing back at him, I pull away and walk away.

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