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Hope The Universe Listens

13. Hope The Universe Listens

Varsha was having a funny, funny feeling when she'd talked to Raghav on phone that afternoon.

As a matter of fact, she'd been feeling the same way ever since she learned he was interested in Himani—even now—when she was just lying in her bed, her feet sore and tormenting her after the all-day standing in the kitchen, and one hell of a stiff-neck making her feel slightly better about her killing legs.

The course and development of this new idea involving him and her best friend had somehow grown on him, she convinced herself. Though, she did not have any actual intention of dissecting into it to look for reasons, there was haphazard thinking going on, in the back of her head.

Also, she couldn't quite believe herself that she was having a funny feeling towards his state right now. She was supposed to be happy for Himani, that finally the guy she'd been pining for was feeling in return for her. Either that, or she must be cynical about his drastic shift from zero to ten in a couple week's time.

And with Raghav, after all she'd listened to, and the desperation she'd witnessed from him, she was supposed to feel sympathetic. But inappropriately, despite the earnestness in him, his messy blithering was god-awfully ludicrous, which she could never debate over, considering the number of times she'd to muffle down her laugh deftly, while listening to him that day.

For all that she had to be concerned and leery about the swift changes in his feelings, he only seemed downright genuine and thoughtful of Himani.

Varsha's lips curled up in a soft smile at the stark flashback of that day.

She was washing vegetables for their dinner, when Raghav entered the kitchen with a packet of milk and a cajoling smile on his face to make the coffee she'd demanded for.

He was quietly minding his own coffee business until he found her grab the chopping board, and flock the washed vegetables around it. Out of nowhere, he leaned back and unfurled a stopping arm before her.

When she looked up at him without any idea, he wore an insisting look, telling her, "Hey, don't use her knife, okay?"

And all he got in return was a cutting glare.

Himani's Wusthof knife was her very personal thing, and she did not enjoy it to be used by someone—in that case, anyone. And Varsha knew it—heck, she'd known her for years, even before this guy met Himani.

She could fathom that he was being extra careful and reflective of her, and it did not seem a bit, fabricated or pretentious.

Genuine. Okay. But it was bloody annoying—like making her want to shove the saucepan full of sizzling milk onto his head. There was nothing that he knew of her, that Varsha didn't. And he need not keep pressing her what to be done and not be done inside her friend's kitchen.

Not saying a word, she pushed the chopping board with a thud and took her hands to her hip.

Raghav, eyes narrowed and mouth wide open, stood stunned at her impulsive behaviour whilst she reported, pertly. "You know what, I am not going to work in this kitchen while you're here giving me instructions that are absolutely not required!" She was being a little fractious right now, but he needed to know that he was being no less bothersome with his free-willed advice.

"I just wanted to remind you—" he began, his voice, small, eyeing her apologetically. Varsha put a hand up gesturing him to stop, making him a bit more baffled than already he was.

Sternly folding her arms to her front, she gave out a resolute declaration. "You complete your coffee business, and then I come in here to cook."

There was a frown pinching his brows tightly. "You're very uncool," he mumbled returning his attention to pouring the freshly brewed decoction equally in two tumblers with sugar that stood in front of him.