Breathing Blues

Viola!

34 -

"Taran", Jyugal called out, the sound of his footsteps increasing and I buried my head in Darshan's lap ugh-ing hard.

He chuckled.

"What is it?", he asked, shaking me up.

"Why is Hardik so mean to me? All of them call me Taran now", I scoffed.

"I'm pretty sure Dhruwal doesn't and you call Hardik dick, you're mean to him", Darshan caressed my hair.

Jyugal opened the door and threw the stuff I asked for at me. Ow! Darshan laughed.

"I'd to beg the shopkeeper for this. He was shutting down. You owe me Taran", Jyugal said.

"Yeah okay, how much do I pay for this?", I got up from Darshan's lap to look at him.

"Oye, I'll pay. This is for my place right?", Darshan slammed his statement on mine.

"I don't accept money from brothers anyways so chill out", Jyugal joked and I threw a cushion at him which hit the wall rather than his face.

"I hate you", I declared.

"You just said you love me on the phone", he winked before leaving.

"You did?", Darshan questioned.

"You did what?", I shrugged.

"Said I love you", Darshan asked.

"Yeah, out of flow I mean", I licked my lips in hesitation and he made a poker face. I stared at him for a while until he blurted into laughter.

"Yaar", I nagged, getting up from the bed. "I'm going to prep for the wall, get some food to eat. Jugni bought ice cream, get that", I ordered him.

"That's food? Ice cream? Have some real food first. You haven't eaten in forever since evening and it's 11 almost yaar Tara", Darshan got up leaving me be.

He'll be a good father not out, like mine. All my dad cares about is food and not just me but my friends, relatives, everyone in general. You go out with him and every fifteen minutes he'll ask you 'Want to eat that? This? Those?'.

I rushed in to the living room grabbing my bag as it'd some markers and paints in it, I guess. I outlined the calligraphic sort of letters on the white sheet and then traced it witha balck ink pen as I'd no big nib marker in here.

I looked at the posters after what felt like an eternity, at, 'le mur des souvenirs' - the wall of memories.

Scissors!

I walked up to the kitchen and hid really behind looking at Darshan cooking in an apron. He didn't wake Kumar Bhaiya up!

He switched off the stove and added coriander leaves to something in the pan, mixing all of it.

He looked up at me and I smiled at him.

"You look really good in an apron", I remarked.

"You look good in clothes, even better without them", he looked up for a second passing me a soft teasing smile and I walked upto him.

"Darshan what are we doing?", I asked.

"Food? Wall? Art?", he shrugged as he served in the bowls nicely.

"No, you and me", I looked up at him.

"We're a tragedy Vaid. You and I", he stopped to look at me. "You don't want to fall in love, I fall in love well quite easily. You don't like relationships, I like the idea of something permanent. You're you and I'm me with a little bit of wanting for each other, we're absolutely tagless and nothing yet a", he paused.