Destiny's Gamble

You and I

Manik's POV

"You still wear it," Angel says, her eyes resting on my left hand. I follow her gaze to find her staring at the ring she gifted me. 

"It's the only gift I've received in all my life that was bought keeping me in mind. Not something for which the driver was sent, or just picked off a shelf for the sake of it," I confess. "So, of course I cherish it." Angel smiles at me, biting down on her lower lip. 

"When are you next taking me to the tracks?" She asks, taking me by surprise. I stare at the back of her hand which is still resting above mine. 

"How do you know I even go there after my accident?" My free hand moves above hers on its own volition, my thumb lightly brushing back and forth across her skin. 

"Because I've noticed the burnt tires," she replies. "The tool box that's always lying open beside the hood of your car, and the skateboard on which you lie down to slide underneath it." 

"How...Why do you focus on so many details about me?" I genuinely want the answer to this. I don't understand as to why she doesn't lash out at me when I treat her like trash, but instead keeps trying to win me over. Everyone has a breaking point and usually I hit their nerves really easily, but Angel is a different case altogether.

"You are one fascinating creature, Mr. Manik Malhotra," Angel says, resting her head against the headboard. She shuts her eyes, humming a soft tune in her throat. 

"Don't sleep like that," I say. "It'll give you a neck pain tomorrow. Lie down properly." Eyes still shut, Angel lowers herself onto her back. But her head is still resting against the headboard. I watch as her chest rises and falls at a steady rhythm. Is she asleep? 

My doubt is confirmed in the next second when her head lolls to the side, towards the bedside table. Before I can register my own actions, my hand shoots out to protect her head from hitting the edge of the table. The back of my hand lands on top of a nail that's jutting out from the side of the structure, just as Angel's head lands against my palm. The pressure causes the nail to further drive itself into my flesh. 

I wince, but keep my hand in place. If I move it then her head will be the victim of the sharp object. With my other hand, I gently move Angel's head back towards the bed and onto a pillow. Once she's safely positioned on the bed, I begin to work on getting the nail out of my skin. 

*****

Had anyone told me a week ago that a woman would be lying on my bed, deeply asleep, while I'll be struggling to find a decent enough sleeping position on the couch, I would've laughed in their face and called them delusional. But tonight this is a reality. 

I watch as Angel turns around, the blanket slipping down from her body and towards her legs. Good Lord, this woman moves more than a tornado. Sighing, I get off the couch for what could quite possibly be the fifteenth time and make my way towards the bed. I take hold of the blanket's hem and pull it back over her body. By the time morning comes, I will be a pro at this task. 

I wouldn't be a subject to such work just for anyone, and so Angel should feel honored. But what would she know? Tomorrow morning when she awakens she'll know nothing about all the work I've done for her tonight. Should I tell her? One should gain credit for the efforts they've put in, right? 

No, that doesn't feel right. She didn't rub it in my face when she took care of me all night, or when she nursed my burnt hand. So I shouldn't either. Another first for me. 

*****

A clattering sound causes me to jerk back into the world of consciousness. Eyes wide, I sit up at once and glance around the room to see who's causing this commotion. Angel is sitting up in bed, her feet on the floor. Is she trying to get up?