The Dating Chapter

25: 7 Days Later . . .

7 days passed since Shivaay and Annika talked to each other. He was coming to Mussoorie but due to some circumstances, he had to give time to office. Problems multiply when you're already facing one. Although he was busy in office work but certain things reminded him of her and he left quite a lot of messages but none were received by her as she blocked his number. The initial days for her were very depressing and full of sadness. She tried keeping herself busy with the family or other things but the flashbacks follow and some or the other thing reminded her of him too. Love is blissful but at the same time destructive too. 

The first 4 nights, she spent weeping, burying her head in the pillow. How much she vowed the next morning not to cry, she ended up crying at nights. By the passing of time, the cries vanished and she used to sleep after staring the ceiling for a long time. He was living with a hope, with a belief that he will win her back but she was thinking, she lost him forever, she lost her first love forever. 

. . . 

Annika came out of the washroom after taking a hot water bath wearing a bath robe and turned off the alarm before tossing her phone on the bed. She had to go out on a morning walk and enjoy the chilly weather cause she didn't go out since she came here. She wore her tracksuit and tied her hair into a ponytail. She grabbed her headphones and phone before jogging out of the room. 

Meanwhile, Shivaay came out of the hotel in which he checked in an hour ago and took a deep breath stretching his back. He had finally come all the way to Mussoorie to take Annika back but the problem was, he had no idea about her house. He walked tot he nearby cafe to grab some coffee. 

The bell rang as the door of the cafe opened and Annika entered removing her hoodie. She walked to the counter to grab a coffee unaware of two eyes who noticed her. He got up from his place and stood in the way. She grabbed her coffee and started walking looking at something in her phone and 'bump', she bumped into Shivaay who held her elbows. 

"I am sorry . . . I didn't . . ." The words died in her mouth as she saw him. She looked here and there to avoid looking into his eyes. She fought the urge to slap him hard on the face and confront him while he fought the urge to hug her tightly and tell her that everything's fine. 

"It's nice to see you . . . after like 7 days . . ." He spoke and mentally questioned himself 'What the hell did I say?' because he had prepared a long speech in his mind what to say to her but when he saw her, what he said was disappointment to him and what he wanted to say, he couldn't.

"Nice to see you too . . . excuse me." She started walking past him but he held her wrist and she quickly pulled back. She knew if she would stop here for a long time, the mask she had pulled up will be removed and she will break down. 

"Can we sit and talk please?" He asked and she wore her hoodie.

"There's nothing left to talk." She literally ran out of the cafe and he followed her.

"Annika please listen to me." He shouted and she turned around.

"It's all over Shivaay. You ended everything. Please go." The tears betrayed her and flowed out. 

"Actually wait. There's always a final goodbye. Tomorrow's my sisters' birthday party. I'll text you the address. I hope you come tomorrow and then leave forever." She harshly wiped her tears and ran from there while Shivaay smiled. 

He took out his phone and dialed Om's number. "I saw her, just now. She is the same. Her eyes, her lips, her tattoo, her cheeks and that natural blush on them. But she is very angry with me, more than I thought. The shocking part is that she invited me to her sisters' birthday party tomorrow. I am gonna go and I am gonna confess."  Om shook is head. It was unbelievable that his brother was acting like this, tho Om's in love too but Shivaay's an exception. He does everything extraordinary.

Just as he was about to keep his phone inside his pocket, Rudra sent him something which took him down the lane of memories.

. . . 

"It's so cheesy. See this." Annika showed him a post on Instagram and he laughed.

"So, you don't like cheesy types?" He asked stopping the car in front of the building where her apartment is located.

"Duh! Of course not." 

"And what about PDA?"

"I don't hate it, but I don't like it too."

"Then you have chosen the wrong guy baby, cause I love PDA and I am very cheesy." He leaned forward and she pushed him back before unlocking the seat belt.

"CRINGE" She yelled and got out of the car and started walking very slowly while he pressed the horn after rolling down the window. She turned around and walking back, she bent a little to see him. 

"I was kidding Annika."

"Guess what!"

"What?"

"I was also kidding!" She chuckled and ran inside. 

. . .

Shivaay kept the phone in his pocket and started walking towards the hotel with his hands in his pocket and whistling. 

. . . 

Annika ran from the coffee shop as fast as she could and entered her house. She collided with a man who was taking flowers for the decorations and she fell on the floor. She opened her eyes and found him sitting beside her.

"Careless." He blew the rose petals from his hand to her face and she closed her eyes in ecstasy. When she opened her eyes, he faded and her father was calling her patting her back and the next moment she realized a sharp pain in her left ankle. 

"Dad, my ankle." The pain increased and she closed her eyes.

"It's sprained, I guess. Why so careless doll?" He helped her get to her room and called the doctor. The doctor told that it would take around 5 to 11 days to heal and tied a compression bandage.

"What happened doll? Where were you lost?" Annika's father asked sitting beside her. In these 7 days, they boded quite good.

"I saw him." 

"And what did you do?"

"He wanted to talk to me and I invited him to the birthday party tomorrow, not to talk, just a final good bye." She told and he kissed her forehead.

"Everything will be alright. Take some sleep." He walked out of the room after switching off the lights. 

. . . 

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