Living In Oblivion

49

Smiling at her reflection, Avanti ran the last brush of mascara through her lashes. She felt a giddy excitement in her heart as she locked the silver watch around her wrist, eager to make time fly. She ran a clean hand over her maroon kurta and exhaled, giving one last glance to her room before walking out.

Divit was busy replying to messages on WhatsApp when he heard the door knob turning. The strong fragrance of her presence filled his nostrils before he could even look up from his phone. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the beauty standing before him. The magic between them engulfed his being, softening his eyes to vulnerability.

As she smiled at him, his lips curled upwards, revealing a faint hint of a dimple on the side of his right cheek.

"Why aren't you ready yet?" she asked, her voice slightly high-pitched.

He was jolted back to reality by her question. Her big doe-shaped eyes blinked at him in confusion, and he scratched his temple before giving her a tilt of the head.

"I am ready," he replied, glancing at himself and throwing his hands in the air.

"No, you are not."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you are not." Her narrowed eyes bore into him. "You are still wearing the same clothes from the morning."

"Because I took out a new pair in the morning," he lazily argued before flopping down on the sofa. He coolly ignored the look of disbelief in her eyes, not even attempting to match her furious gaze. Truth be told, he felt too lazy to change.

"Divit!" she screeched, snatching his phone away and pulling him up to make him stand. "Get ready now!"

Putting all his weight on his feet, he dropped himself back on the sofa. As she tried to pull him back with all her strength, he didn't even flinch and sat there like a log of wood.

Tired and infuriated, she soon gave up before yelling at him, "Divit, what is wrong with you? It's your birthday. Go get ready."

"Avanti, what is wrong with you? It's my birthday, and I am ready," he sang back in the same tone, thoroughly enjoying the redness of her face. The irritation on her face warned him of the possibility of getting hit in the face, but then he grew confused as he detected a hint of moisture at the corner of her eyes.

"Are you crying?" The words left his mouth dumbly as he gaped at her like a lost child.

"You moron, you ruined my mascara," she exclaimed, her loud cry making him jump to his feet.

He couldn't understand. He couldn't understand at all. Weren't they just having a nice, fun conversation a moment ago? Wasn't she beaming at him five minutes ago? Wasn't she shining like an emerald?

"Avanti," he spoke up softly, unsure and almost scared.

"Go get ready," she wailed again.

He stared at her dumbfounded before shaking his head and letting out a grunt. "Don't tell me you're crying because I refused to change."

"No," she snapped. "You were troubling me so much."

"But—"

"I got ready, putting in so much effort, and you—" She trailed off. "If you didn't want to go with me, then you should have said no. I asked you properly."

With his lips pressed in a thin line, Divit gaped at her stupefied. Cursing himself for not changing his clothes, he scratched his neck, not knowing what to say. Was this one of those typical moments women experience, he wondered. Blinking at her in confusion, he finally spoke up, "I should go change—"