I can’t believe that Rudra is flirting with me.Again.It takes everything in me to not blush like a nineteenth-century housewife.
Oh, to be that paratha.
Ten minutes later, Rudra is cramming the last spoonful of gajar ka halwa into his mouth and I’m polishing off the nimbu achaar (we made it clear there would be nothing left on the plate). At this point, a few people from the surrounding tables have come over to watch, and even the waiters from earlier are standing by our table, cheering us on.
And then we’re done.
Rudra leans back in his chair, clutching his stomach with both hands and groaning. I swallow the bile scraping the back of my throat, sweating from overeating. A cheer bursts out among the crowd, causing the others to look up.
Varun sighs when he sees our empty plate. “Ah, shit.”
The crowd starts clapping, and even though I’m convinced I won’t ever be able to eat again, let alone a thali, I’mecstatic. Rudra turns to look at me, and he’s smiling, and the moment takes me over, carrying me like a beach ball over a wave.
I scream, “We won!” and throw my arms around his neck, my hair tangling in the space between our cheeks.
Now, this would’ve been salvageable had it been a one-armed hug, or something short and quick, with maybe a few platonic pat-pats landed on his back. But I practically fling myself onto his lap,throwing the whole weight of my body on him, common sense whisked away by the sheer force of my enthusiasm.
And Rudra, not knowing how else to stop himself from toppling backward, hugs me back, his hands circling my waist. It’s a surprise I haven’t combusted from embarrassment. Thankfully, no one looks like they’ve made the action out to be anything but friendly—until I catch Priti’s dumbfounded expression.
I hasten to sit back down, but Rudra isn’t letting go. Instead, he looks dazed, and just when I’m starting to think about what that could mean, he suddenly lurches away from me and onto his feet.
“I’m sorry, I need to—” he starts to say, but his words cut off as he dashes out of the restaurant, nearly knocking over a table on his way out.
Is he... is he running away from me?
At first, I stay seated, mortified at having had a boy run from me just seconds after I threw myself on him (correction:glompedhim), but then the concern takes over, and I’m running after him before anyone else has the chance to raise an alarm.
“Rudra!” I call out behind him, and as I round the corner, past the JM Housefull Paratha board, my shoes squeak against the footpath.
I run a corner by a dustbin and spy Rudra propping his hand against the (possibly paan-stained) wall, ducking and clutching his stomach as he retches on the ground.
“Rudra, ohmygod, are you okay?”
“I’ll be fine—” Rudra groans, but he doesnotsound fine in the least.
I stare at him in shock, cursing softly under my breath. When I place my hand on his spine, I find his T-shirt damp from sweat. I hold his hair back for him, reminded of how Amrit did the same for me during the house party.
I always thought I was the sort of person who wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of someone else throwing up in front of me, but at the moment, I’m only filled with worry for him.
When Rudra’s done, he pushes himself away from the wall, stumbles over to a tree nearby, and leans against the trunk. I follow, planting myself next to him, and look up, concerned.
Rudra’s hair is pasted to his cheek, sticky with sweat. At first, I fight the desire to push it away, but seeing he’s in no state to do it himself, I reach out and do it for him. My fingers brush his sharp cheekbone as I pluck the strands away one by one, tucking them behind his ear. Rudra flinches at the first touch but quickly relaxes, eyes shutting. The pads of my fingers tingle with sensation even after I’ve dropped my hand back to my side.
Rudra grimaces, not looking at me. The stricken look on his face matches the one I felt on mine from the party. He’sembarrassed, even though he has absolutely no reason to be.
What he says confirms it for me. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Stop.” I can only smile at the thought that follows. “I guess we’ve sort of canceled each other out now, huh? Besides, I’m pretty sure the intimacy of literally spilling our guts in front of each other automatically bonds us for life.”
Rudra cracks a smile at that. “I suppose. Thanks for helping me out.”
“Hey,youstepped in to help me out first earlier,” I say, giggling. “Peak chivalry, to save a girl with a truly epic burp.”
“Very manly of me, I daresay,” Rudra says, snorting.
“Oh, for sure. But I didn’t come here to boost your ego. Are youreallyokay?”
“Better.” He finally turns to look at me, and under the afternoon sunlight, there’s a sheen on his face that makes him glow.
