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What's The Procedure To Stop Crushing On Him?

A/N: Chapter is dedicated to @reva3596. It's her birthday today. She is the first friend I'd made on Wattpad almost four years ago, and when I started on with writing, she was my first reader, too. 

Don't forget to take a look on her profile, she writes damn well!

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10. What's The Procedure To Stop Crushing On Him?

Khushi appraised the doorbell when she was just slipping into Dev's maroon, collared tee shirt; and a pair of cotton pajamas, which were her own.

"Coming!" Her high-pitched holler drifted across the hallway, as she flung her damp towel across her bed to the laundry basket, and adjusted the tee-shirt that hung sloppy, by pulling it over her shoulders.

Dera had already scooted to the door from his mattress, by the time she traipsed through the hallway. Brushing Dera's perked up ears with a hand, and the other hand planted against the door's surface, Khushi rose to her toes and scrunched an eye to snoop through the spyhole.

It showed her a zoomed in and a slightly unclear picture of half of Meena showing her back to Raghav, and he was digging up something from her backpack.

A quick smile tugged at her lips, as she planked her feet down and juggled with the door knob.

"Hey, you guys—" Khushi's cheerful words suspended, at the unexpected scene of her two insouciant friends standing there, at her doorstep with grim faces.

"You're pregnant!" Meena's mutter was almost like an automated, mechanical statement.

Khushi sighed, loudly, and within she could shape her words up, Raghav heckled in, in his utmost hollow voice "—and you didn't tell us? Are you okay?"

She stood blank holding the door open at them, with her brows shot up in astoundment—as in how'd they come to know without her disclosing it? Translating the expressions on her face, Raghav held a sheet of thickish paper out at her. Khushi grabbed it in an instant, and studied it.

It was her pregnancy confirmation report.

Have you had one of those days when you have a feeling or a thought about something that's disparate, yet too, too recognizable; when you can suppose it—something extraordinaire—was going to take place, or already going on, but you just didn't know what it was.

Have you had those?

Right. Because, everyone would have those days one time or the other.

And Raghav was having it today.

Right from the moment he woke up.

When he had received a text from Khushi in the morning, whilst he was still at home—rummaging through the cases of his nightstand for his mobile phone's charger—that she was not going to work that day, he had convinced himself, that was why he had been feeling it.

But the moment—discovering that sheet clutched between his fingers from Khushi's pull out trunk in her desk—made him have second thoughts about the assumption he'd made that morning.

Raghav's bugged out, hazel eyes roved over the sheet of paper, hurriedly, from its top to bottom.

Darting past all the usual information like Patient name, Khushi Bharadwaj; Age/Gender, 29yo/F, his eyes startled to halt at the test result—Khushi was pregnant.

His brows wreathed together for a puzzled instant, and he took in a slow, long inhale as if the words he'd just registered in his brain had knocked all the air out of his system.