Dil Bole Rikara: Rikara Shots Collection

In the Trash

Bet you didn't see this coming?

Hello people who might have forgotten me. If you have, please continue to do so. This is just a one shot I started and left. Now, I don't want to continue this. But it keeps bugging me. So, I decided to just publish it.

Warning! The following chapter goes from 0 to 100 way too quick and has an unsatisfactory ending. It is way too mushy to have a sad ending but you'll see when you read it.

Also, if you feel like you want to pick up this trash story and recycle it, feel free to do so. I loved the idea but couldn't write it out properly.

Happy reading!

THE COP OUT

Mumma always said, "If you don't wrap it, don't tap it."

She was talking about seatbelts and accelerators, perverts!

As I stood in front of the traffic police officer, I wished I had listened. "I am extremely sorry, sir!" I tried again.

"Madam, not only were you overspeeding, you were also not wearing a seatbelt. And you crashed right into the barrier. I'll need the insurance papers."

"Idon'thavethemonme" I mumbled inaudibly.

"Excuse me?"

"I don't have them on me," I said clearly this time and I was sure I was blushing bright red.

Mumma also said, "Don't bother with lying, you look like a blood stained witch with four feet claiming to be a priest."

'Should've listened', is all I could think as the constable gave me the stink eye. I shuffled on my feet again.

'Should've also not missed that insurance payment one too many times,' a voice sang in my head. Yup, sang.

"You have a wierd imagination," Mumma would say after reading the stories of vampire mafia that I wrote at fourteen on a site that must not be named.

"Ma'am I'll have to-"

"Is something the matter, officer?" A smooth voice cut in and I turned to face a sharply dressed man in uniform.

"Don't trust men in uniform, Jaan." Mumma had told me as I clutched the picture of my first crush, the police officer next door.

"Sir!" The man saluted and I found myself doing the same. My hand stopped midway when his eyes sparkled with amusement as his bottom lip got lost in his upper one. He wasn't laughing at me, was he?

"You can be really funny sometimes," Mumma used to say.

"What's the matter?" The man asked me this time and my breath faltered. He had the dark deep chocolate eyes that made me want to drool and stare unblinkingly.

"You have a problem, a chocolate addiction problem" Mumma would scold me everyday.

"I- uh I am sorry!" I squeaked shutting my eyes with embarassment as I put down my hand that was still halfway confused in doing a salute or not.

Slowly, I peeked through a single eye trying to see if I was going to be thrown into jail for being a public nuisance.

"You really need to socialize," Mumma used to say when she came to my apartment to clean up.

Shouldn't have shrugged and gone back to writing books then.

The traffic police officer was explaining my offences to the man now. I took that time to study his figure. Tall frame, broad shoulders and lean muscles. The uniform molded against him, perfectly fitting every inch as if tailored for him. Or maybe his body filled every inch just right.