Love, Lies & A Cup of Chai

Chapter 9

Heart rates. One random day in her high school biology class, Umeed had learned about the normal adult heart rate range: 60 to 100 beats per minute. This can be further elevated due to stress, anxiety or other physical factors like exercising or heavy physical activity.

She was surprised she remembered it, considering she struggled to recall what she studied for her university finals six months ago. But a bigger surprise was how she felt a heart race against her hand, in a notably abnormal rhythm.

Her hand was pressed against his chest.

Farjaad.

While her hand felt the frenzy beneath them, her eyes were struck at the face that was a little too close to hers - staring down at her intently, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, strands of his wet hair making its way to his forehead, a contrast against the usual gelled back look she's used to. Her eyes instinctively drifted downward from his intense gaze, and in response, his lips parted slightly, probing her to mirror the act. As her gaze made its way back to his, she searched for something she couldn't quite define, but something she was sure she felt.

Farjaad felt as if he was on the brink of combustion, his entire being consumed by the intensity of her unwavering gaze. Her lashes fluttered innocently, her parted lips subtly heaving with each breath. The sight of a water droplet tracing a path from his hair to her lips captivated his attention, he wondered if they were always so pink and plump, were they this alluring all the times she had used it to reprimand, huff and scowl at him? Thoughts raced through his mind, contemplating the different ways in which he could assist her in wiping away the glistening droplet.

He sucked in a sharp breath, overwhelmed by the severity of the need he felt.

Umeed's gaze flickered away, unable to withstand the eyes that were getting darker by the second. As she grasped onto his biceps with her other hand, a reflex as she acknowledged, she couldn't help but notice the solid, well-defined muscles beneath her touch. She could tell he worked out, quite a lot. Umeed felt like she could get used to the feeling of her hands wrapped around his biceps.

Farjaad snapped out of his reverie when Umeed averted her gaze, instantly chastising himself internally for allowing his thoughts to stray into dangerous territory. He sensed warmth spreading across his chest, glancing downward to discover a small spill from the drink she held tightly in her cupped hands, pressed against him. Reluctantly, he cleared his throat, silently urging Umeed to step back. They stood in awkward silence, the weight of their newfound awareness of each other making it difficult to break eye contact or look away.

"T-tumhe yeh, g-girna giraanay kay alawa kuch bhi aata hai?" asked Farjaad, finally breaking the silence, his voice struggling to maintain composure.

Men should consider silence way more than they seem to do.

The softness in Umeed's eyes was replaced with the rage that exists more often than not when she is in the vicinity of this man the moment she heard him talk. Stepping forward, she forcefully placed the cup onto the small teapoy beside the couch, causing Farjaad to flinch involuntarily.

"Aur aapko theek se chalna nahin aata kya?"

"Excuse me-"

"Agar menay aapko nahin bachaya hota tou yeh ek din mein dusri baar gir rahay hotay aap. Khud tou giray huwe hai, dusron ko suna rahay." Umeed's voice carried a tremor, her hands longing for the warmth they had felt just moments before, much to her displeasure.

Farjaad's mouth hung open. "Tumnay mujhe bachaya? Tumne?"

"Jee Bilkul." Umeed nodded.

"Tum toofan ki tarah meray paas aa gayi thi menay tumhein sambhala hai!"