MaNan: Breaking Free

50|Afeemi

Nandini's POV-

"The number you have called is currently unreachable." When I get the same response for the hundredth time, I groan into the empty room and chuck my phone in agitation. Where the hell is Manik? I have been trying to call him all day but his phone has remained unreachable. It's been two days since I turned him down and there has been no sign of him since I saw him hurrying out of my gate with Soha.

Really, I should be happy that he is finally listening to me and leaving me alone. The next day after turning him down, when I didn't see him anywhere, I was relieved; if he had kept pushing me, I probably would have given up. But there was no sign of him today either. Even his bike, which is usually parked out front, is nowhere to be seen.

In the end, I had called him and since the first time I found his number unreachable, I haven't been able to stop calling him. If I say I am not bothered by his sudden absence, I will be lying. Try as I might, I can't stop thinking about him and everything he said to me. His words are still echoing in my head, making me wonder if I've made the wrong decision. And that damned look in his eyes, as he told me that he loved me, over and over again, is making me question everything.

Its one in the night and sleep has deserted me completely. Manik is not here, but thoughts of the last kiss we shared won't leave me; the feel of his strong arms enclosing me, the tantalizing sensation of his breath on my skin, his tongue and fingers wreaking havoc on my senses; I feel a tremble go through me at the memory.

Getting up abruptly, I reach my hand under the bed, searching for the one piece of clothing I know is lying somewhere there. When I feel the fabric against my fingers, I grab it and pull. Taking it straight to my nose, I give it a long sniff. The heavenly smell engulfs me immediately and I sigh wistfully.

It's the top I was wearing when Manik and I were making out. I had been about to wash it, but I don't know what came over me at the last moment and I didn't. Instead, I had brought it up to my nose and sniffed. It smelled like him. Intoxicating. After standing in front of the washer for a long time, the top closely held against me, I had decided not to wash it. The smell was getting fainter, but it still made me feel his presence around me.

Yes, I have gone mad.

I let my head fall back on the pillow and stare at the ceiling. Over the last one year, I had started believing that I've lost my ability to feel sexually aroused. I thought all my carnal instincts have died because I hadn't experienced anything even remotely close to it in a long time. But Manik's reappearance seems to have brought those instincts back in full force. If I have taken to sniffing dirty clothes, surely my obsession with him is bordering on crazy.

What amazes me more than anything else is how he can make me feel utterly helpless, yet so empowered in the same moment. I could be totally putty in his hands, his to play with and mould as he wished, and still feel the most powerful I had ever felt, all at the same time. He could make me feel uninhibited and in control as easily as he could have me begging and wanting, at his mercy.

The way he looked at me when we were together hasn't changed with time, I realize that now. The intensity and potent need that his eyes always reflected was still there, making me feel like I own him. And the sheer power I felt when I looked into those eyes! It was all still the fucking same.

This is probably why I had fallen so hard for him. All my life, my dear mother had decided everything for me; I didn't want to move to India after dad died, but she moved us anyway, I didn't want to be anywhere near Singhania, but she condemned me to a childhood full suffering, I wanted to join a music college and make a career in music, but she made me join a stupid English course instead. I had never been able to do what I wanted, never had any control over my life. I was trapped.