Dare Trilogy | Book 3 Editing | ✓

2.6 | Teach Me How To Live

Posted on April 11th, 2017 | Edited on September 14th, 2018

| . . . C H A P T E R - 2.6.1 : T E A C H - M E - H O W . . . |

A car zipped to a stop in front of me, accelerating my heart beat at the unexpected blockage. The window rolled down and I was taken aback at finding Arnav. Before I could decide to scold him for almost running me over, he ordered. "Get in."

I narrowed my eyes at him. He thinks he can order me?

Realizing that was not going to work, he resorted to informing, "Armaan messaged."

I had to scowl at my brother. Apparently, he knew me too well to know I wouldn't have told Arnav myself.

I reached for the handle and got inside. "Drive like a decent human."

He rolled his eyes and pulled out to the main road. Though, he did listen. He didn't make any rash lane changes to overtake people in front of him.

Half hour later, he pulled into a parking spot in front of the building. As I got out, so did he. I knew this routine of his too well. I didn't even bother to stop him for it would only lead to another argument.

Getting into the penthouse, I took off my flats by the entrance and turned on the fan. Leaving him there, I walked into the room Riddhima and I shared to change out of work clothes and into something I deemed comfortable.

When I returned, he was seated on the couch and had taken the liberty to turn on the TV. I walked to the kitchen, pretending he wasn't there. Opening the fridge, I barely found anything I could warm up for dinner. It made sense. While we had done grocery shopping, we had ordered in over the weekend. There was nothing Riddhima had cooked here for there to be leftovers.

Sighing, I opened a cabinet and pulled out a packet of pasta. In a pot, I placed the water on stove to boil. Ofcourse, I still didn't know how to cook but I figured I could manage this simple act of following instructions on the back of the packet. Boil pasta with water. Drain. Add butter, milk, and the packet of readymade sauce that came with the pasta.

Not hard.

While I stood there waiting for the water to boil, I plugged in my earphones and listened to music. I was not about to listen to a boring documentary, or whatever it was that Arnav was watching that sounded utterly boring.

I lifted the pot off the stove when I decided the pasta was done. There was a tap on my shoulder. I sprang back, and my hold on the pot slipped. With the pot, hot water fell on my feet as well.

"Ow, damn." I yelled in instant pain, my foot hobbling about in midair. "What the hell is wrong with you, Raizada?"

He threw back the blame, "It's not my fault your music was so loud you didn't hear me calling you like five times!" and walked to the freezer at once to get ice cubes. Draping them in a handkerchief, he returned and bent on his knees to apply it to my foot. I stepped back. Getting the hint, he passed it to me.

I didn't think twice before sitting on the floor and wincing in the burn as the cold and damp handkerchief from the melting ice touched the skin. He started going through cabinets. "What are you looking for?"

He ignored me. At the last cabinet, he found what he was looking for and filled it with water while dumping the rest of the ice cubes from the tray inside. Dipping his hand in, he sprinkled it on my other foot that wasn't as burned.

The concern on his face took me aback. Without thinking, I asked. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up and sit still," he scolded, taking the handkerchief from my hand and opening it up to drop those ice cubes in the water as well before dipping it in the cold water. He then placed the cloth over my feet. While it burned, there was still some relief. "Where's the first aid?"