Destiny's Gamble

Sleepover

"Did you know that a flock of crows is known as a murder?" Manik asks, turning over to face me once more. "Imagine saying, 'Oh, look! I see a murder.' And everyone shits their pants, thinking it's the killing type of murder. But you're really talking about the murder in the sky." 

Rolling my eyes, I bite down on my lower lip to contain a smile.

"Two minutes, Malhotra," I announce. "That's how long you lasted without talking this time." 

"Hey, I'm getting better at this game!" He exclaims enthusiastically. "I first cracked under thirty seconds, and then it took about a minute and some seconds, and now two minutes. Hallelujah!" The sound of his claps fills the room. Clearing my throat, I cover my mouth with my palm.

"Actually, the entire point of this game is for you to not speak at all. Clearly, you don't know how to play." I say, smiling behind the shield I've created. 

"Oh," Manik pouts, seemingly disappointed. "I don't really like this game. Can we play another?" 

"For the love of Aiyappa, Malhotra, I don't want to play any game with you." I throw my hands in the air in exasperation. "Either I'm not sending out the correct signals, or you're extremely slow at interpreting them." Furrowing his brows, Manik sinks into the couch cushions, silence draping itself around the room. Chewing on my lower lip, I begin to shake my healthy leg, suddenly at unease. Being in Manik's company and experiencing silence at the same time is an absolutely alien feeling. 

A muffled grumbling interrupts the room. Manik's head jerks towards me, eyes wide. 

"My lips didn't move this time." He says innocently, his panicked expression making it seem as if he is afraid I'll eat him up for this slip-up. "It was my stomach." Unable to keep myself in check any longer, I bend forwards, my shoulders shaking with loud laughter.

"Even your stomach can't shut up." I say through my giggles, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. Through the corner of my eye, I watch as Manik quietly grabs his phone and turns it on. Leaning forwards, he places it on the table, and then sinks back against the back of the sofa once more. Curiously, I squint towards the phone's screen, trying to make out what's on it. The recording app is open, the moving lines telling me that it's recording. 

"What're you doing?" I ask, nodding towards the device. Manik's gaze momentarily rests on the screen, before he looks at me, smiling.

"In all honesty, Angel, I don't know how much longer I'm with you for," he says. "The positive side in me stubbornly says that everything will eventually be alright. But I can't stop the insecure monster in me from doubting this belief. Just in case he's right..." Manik trails off, his eyes shining. "Just in case," he repeats. "Then I want to keep these little memories in store for the lonely nights I'm forced to spend without you." 

The pain in my heart lights up again. Manik's words have the power to mold me into the palm of his hand as if I'm softened butter. How in the world can I expect myself to remain mad at this man? Sniffing, I turn my head towards the other side. I don't wish for Manik to see the tears in my eyes; for him to witness the pain I'm undergoing. I've no doubt whatsoever that he, too, feels pain similar to mine. However, if he cares this much about me, then he also has to learn to rein in his actions. I'm not a doll that Manik can shower me with love whenever he pleases, and slam me against a wall the next.

"Your voice is a magical sound I wish to never forget." He adds in a low tone. "It's like a song I won't ever tire from; one that I can keep playing on repeat." 

"Then why do your actions steal this sound away and make me forget how to make it?" I ask, shutting my eyes.

"I would burn the universe to ensure your laughter never ends." Manik lets out a humorless bark of laughter. "Ironic, isn't it? Considering how I'm the one who, like you said, steals it ever so often?" 

"I'm tired," I whisper. "I want to rest, Malhotra." Each time I call Manik from this name my throat burns.  

"Let's call it a night, Angel," he says. "Have your routinely glass of water, go to the bathroom, and then bid me goodnight." A pained smile spreads across my lips. Aiyappa, it amazes me at times just how well this man knows me. I doubt even Chacha, Chachi - two people who have stayed with me for the entirety of my life - are this familiar with my habits and routines. How do I expect myself to give up on such a person? Defeated, I let out a sigh, tension rolling off of my shoulders. What I wouldn't give to forget the happenings of that evening and put everything back into place. 

As Manik is assisting me towards the bathroom, I halt at once and jerk my head towards him.

"Your stomach!" I exclaim, eyes wide. "It was yelling that you haven't been eating."

"And neither have you," Manik retorts. "Isn't that why we're here tonight?"

"My case is different," I grumble, continuing towards the loo.

"No, Angel," Manik shakes his head. "We're the same. You and I together are a force to be reckoned with. But apart, we're like a crumbling pillar, with a weakened foundation." The Devil grins as if he just cracked the joke of the century in his head. "Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if we both drop dead without each other's company."

"I know I wouldn't," I lie. The truth is, ever since I left Manik's house and promised to shut the doors of my heart on him, I have never felt more weak. However, it's an odd feeling; one that cannot be diagnosed by medicine, or cured by doctors. Physically I'm well able to move, mentally I'm able to keep up with matters around me, but it's almost as if there's a blanket of languidness that's draped around me. Every task I perform is done halfheartedly; every smile I offer to others doesn't reach my heart. It feels as if an imperative piece of me has been torn away - a piece called Manik.

"And I know I would," he replies earnestly. "So unless you don't want to see my dead body on the floor someday, please forgive me." 

"Malhotra," I take his name chidingly. 

"Fine," Manik nods his head. "I'm sorry. I won't touch this topic tonight. Happy?" 

"Perfect," I murmur. 

"I do still get the honor of sleeping on that prestigious couch, right?" Manik asks, doubt clouding his tone. Aiyappa, from which clay have you made this man? He's truly one of a kind.