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summary: pritam had one rule, that he never dialled the same phone number twice. untill now.
word count: 2.3k words
divider by @/diviniyae
It was a normal Tuesday, late enough that the distinction between days had begun to blur.
Pritam sat on a plastic chair on the patio, his spine curved against the uncomfortable backing, watching the narrow street stretch out under the yellow glare of a single streetlight.
Inside, the house was silent. His grandfather had gone to bed hours ago. Pritam's right knee moved up and down, a manifestation of a restlessness he could neither contain nor explain.
He could open the Johnnie Walker Red Label sitting idly on his desk in his bedroom which he had purchased earlier that evening on his way back from work, break the seal, and let the liquid blunt the sharp edges of his guilt and the countless scenarios of ‘what-ifs’ that crowded his mind every single night without a moment of reprieve.
But he was not the sort of person who succumbed to grief through a bottle. He wasn't an alcoholic, he reasoned.
Because his drinking was strictly functional, a necessity born of an overactive mind that constantly dragged his past to the surface, reminding him of how he had fled instead of answering for what he had done.
He drank only to numb his brain, which happened to be an everyday requirement.
Maybe he was an alcoholic after all.
He let out a sigh, the sound dissolving into the humid night. On good days, when he was extremely exhausted after work, it granted him a few hours of unconsciousness.
He spent his mornings and afternoons walking through residential neighbourhood, carrying heavy home appliances, moving from door to door to pitch vacuum cleaners to people who ranged from mildly polite to aggressively dismissive. Most of them were the latter.
When the day ended, he would return to the house to find his Dadu either sitting motionless in front of the television or resting on the patio armchair with the old tape recorder cradled in his lap, listening repeatedly to the last track his late wife had recorded for him.
On those evenings, Pritam would gently guide the old man toward the kitchen table for dinner before ensuring he was settled into bed for the night.
During those routines, he could almost believe he was Pritam Parker.
A normal twenty-something sales manager earning a modest income, defined by his simple life and his responsibility toward his aging grandfather. He could pretend the small house in Goa was the boundary of his existence.
However, there were nights when the fragile structure he had made from lies collapsed entirely, leaving him exposed to his own reflection. The farce ceased to function, and he was forced to acknowledge that he was not a harmless, cheerful young salesman who spent his days preoccupied with consumer goods.
No.
He was someone who had destroyed a man's life simply because that man had dared to hold him accountable for his conduct. To satisfy his bruised ego, he had pushed a man to the brink, driving him to suicide and leaving a family permanently shattered in the aftermath.
Then, incapable of facing the wreckage he had caused, Pritam had gathered his things and fled like a coward, unable to bear witness to the consequences of his actions.
These were the nights that felt almost impossible to endure.
He felt an immense gratitude for his grandfather's presence, but Dadu was increasingly detached, drifting deeper into his own memories and leaving Pritam isolated within the house.
There was no one else.
Three years ago, he had completely erased himself from the world, cutting off ties with everyone he knew, wiping his digital footprint, and burning any paper trail that connected him to his previous life.
It was as though Kabir Sahni had ceased to exist at all, his life ending at the exact moment Professor Fonseca threw himself from the lighthouse.
Pritam shook his head sharply in an attempt to disrupt the familiar progression of his thoughts. He could not allow himself to spiral through the same memory for the fifth time in a single week.
In an effort to survive these long hours without relying entirely on alcohol, he had developed a weird habit over the past twelve months.
Whenever sleep withdrew itself entirely, leaving him stranded on the patio, he would take out his phone and dial a completely random number, looking out at the dark silhouettes of the neighbourhood houses while the phone rang.
He always initiated the conversation with the same apologetic phrase, "I'm sorry, for calling you from a wrong number."
The response from the strangers on the other end of the line was predictable. The vast majority would disconnect immediately, which was a rational reaction to an unknown voice attempting to initiate small talk in the dead of the night.
Once, however, a man had stayed on the line just long enough to offer an irritated jibe, "Bhai konse nashe karke baitha hai?", a question that was reasonable under the circumstances.
On one occasion, a woman had answered his call, and before he could even navigate his standard opening preamble, she had dissolved into tears. She had recounted how her boyfriend had cheated on her with her roommate. Even though her voice was annoyingly high-pitched, Pritam was sympathetic. He even briefly entertained the impulse to offer to hack her ex-boyfriend's Instagram, though he ultimately thought better of it.
He attempted to offer some semblance of comfort, which he failed miserably at because it seemed to make the girl weep more intensely, until he resorted to platitudes and abruptly disconnected the line.
For a day or two afterward, she lingered in the periphery of his thoughts, and he hoped that she would eventually find some form of solace and move forward.
Then there was the man on the ferry who, much like himself, was stranded awake in the middle of the night. They had remained on the line for a full hour, engaged in a detailed analysis of cricket matches, mutually lamenting how the current players lacked the spark of the older generation.
They debated field placements and strategies as if they were Rahul Dravid and Gautam Gambhir. The man had eventually ended the call by stating, "Bhai, tum ajeeb ho."
Pritam could not help but agree.
On another night, an elderly woman picked up the call, and spoke to him with fondness about a specific prawn rice recipe that her late husband had cherished.
Pritam had listened intently, opening his phone’s notes app. to write down the various steps. Yet it sat forgotten, as he had no one to prepare the meal for. His Dadu followed a strict vegetarian diet and never consumed meat.
These random phone calls with strangers kept him anchored, preventing him from sinking beneath the suffocating weight of his thoughts.
Pritam only had one rule.
He never dialled the same phone number twice.
He was fully aware that the loneliness defining his existence was largely self-inflicted. He found a bleak sort of contentment in his set routine.
Occasionally, when he was certain that his Dadu was properly dozing off and would not awaken easily, Pritam would leave the patio and venture down toward the nearby beach. He would sit in the damp sand, his eyes fixed on the pale froth of the waves as they collided with the coast in the darkness.
Like tonight.
He had only just arrived at the edge of the water and settled into the sand when a bright shooting star cut an incandescent line across the dark expanse of the sky. The suddenness of the visual filled him with a surge of excitement, and he turned around automatically to share the sight with someone, only to be met with the vast emptiness of the beach.
This prompted him to draw his phone from his pocket, hoping that the call might connect him with an astronomy enthusiast who could appreciate his excitement.
He had no inkling that this specific call would disrupt the trajectory of his life.
The line rang three times into the quiet night before the call was accepted.
"Haan?" a girl answered and she sounded mildly irritated.
Pritam shifted slightly in the sand, clearing his throat as he hurried to deliver his standard apology. "Sorry, main apko wrong number se call kar raha—"
"I know that genius. Aage bolo?"
Pritam fell silent, momentarily stunned by the directness. He was utterly unprepared for a stranger to turn the tables on him. He simply blurted out the first thought that came to his mind. "Maine asman mien tut ta tara dekha. It looked really magical."
A brief silence settled over the line, the quiet gap filled only by the distant crash of the surf behind him. Then, her voice returned, "Photo bhejna?"
He blinked at the screen, his bewilderment deepening by the second, “Kyu?”
“Mujhe wish magni hai.”
Pritam looked up at the vast, star strewn sky above him, the absurdity of the situation settling in.
"Photo toh nahi li," he admitted, before adjusting his grip on the device. "Ek second rukna." He switched the call to speaker, opened his camera app, and captured an image of the dark sky before sending it to the unknown number.
A moment later, her voice emerged from the speaker, her irritation replaced by a genuine curiosity. "Tum kisi beach par ho?"
“Haan.”
"Aur view enjoy karne ki jagah mera sath timepass kar rahe ho," she remarked.
Pritam felt a flash of defensiveness and quickly countered, "You're talking to me too."
"Toh main phone rakhdu?" she asked playfully.
Pritam wanted to tell her she could do exactly as she pleased, but she moved past the confrontation before he could speak, "Tumhe beaches zyada pasand hai? I'm more of a mountain person."
He preferred the mountains as well.
"Ye beach mere ghar ke pass hai, toh main aksar yaha ajata hu," he explained.
"Not you being geographically blessed," she sighed, "Mere ghar ke aas pass toh badi badi buildings hai. My view is me looking at the couple living in the opposite building fight as if they are auditioning for Bigg Boss."
Pritam let out a snort, marvelling at her dramatic nature. He shifted his position to capture a second photograph, a wider panoramic view of the dark coastline and sent it to her.
As the message was sent, his eyes caught the small circular profile picture. It wasn’t her photo, but rather an image of Lewis Hamilton standing atop a podium, triumphantly waving the British flag.
"Tumhe Hamilton pasand hai?"
"Hello to you too fellow f1 fan! And yes!" she responded, her enthusiasm instantly spiking. "Tumhe kon pasand hai? Please don't say Max Verstappen."
Max Verstappen was, in fact, his favourite driver on the grid, and he found himself genuinely baffled by the immediate hostility she harboured towards him.
"Oh my god, you do like Max don't you?" she said.
"Usme kya problem hai," Pritam argued, "He is one of the best drivers."
"Oh please! He is a cry baby at best," she countered dismissively. "Only douchebags like Max."
Pritam let out an incredulous chuckle. "Excuse me?"
"No seriously! All the boy that I have come who like Max are the stereotypical alpha sigma tan cos men but like all the girls that I know who love Max are straight up baddies," she explained, before her voice dropped into a morose complaint. "I don't know why all the 10/10 divas like Max."
"Because they have better taste than you," Pritam offered, a rare spark of his dry wit surfacing.
"Oh wow, aren't you mean?"
“And aren't you judgmental?”
Before she could offer a rebuttal, the faint, muffled sound of a voice calling out in the background carried through the line, interrupting their banter.
"Aai! Okay bye," she said hurriedly, "Maine Blink-it se ice cream order ki thi. Vo agyi. Good night." She paused for a fraction of a second, the line crackling slightly. "Oh wait, tumhara naam kya hai?"
Pritam hesitated, the ingrained instinct for self-preservation kicking in. "Main tumhe kyu batau?"
"Acha?" she shot back, a note of amusement and disbelief evident in her voice, “Raat ke 2 bje kisi random number par call karke gappe mar sakte ho, par naam nahi bata sakte?”
She was right and smart, and her voice sounded like falling asleep to melodious lullabies.
He swallowed against the dryness in his throat before offering with reluctance, "Pritam."
"Good night Pritam," she said, the words coming quickly. "Bhagwan tumhe sadbhuddi de and I hope you stop stanning Max. Aur tumhara naam sach mien Pritam hai? You don't sound like a Pritam."
Pritam let out a genuine laugh, his shoulders shaking with the mirth of it. The sound felt entirely unbound, a stark contrast to the heavy silence he had inhabited for the past three years. He could not recall the last time he had allowed himself to laugh with such freedom.
"What do I sound like?"
"Like a Rohan, Ayaan, Kabir. One of those bougie names," she stated.
Pritam froze, his laughter cutting off instantly. He stared down at the glowing screen of his phone, the random digits flashing against the dark backdrop of the beach.
He wondered, with a sharp spike of anxiety, who this girl could possibly be to hit so precisely upon the truth. Desperate to steer the conversation away from the precipice of his past, he forced his voice to remain steady. "Tumhara naam kya hai?"
"Kabhi dubara baat hui, toh bataugi. Bye," she teased.
"Arey hello ye toh cheating—" Pritam began, but the line went dead before he could finish the sentence.
He remained seated in the sand for a long time, his eyes fixed on the now blackened screen of his phone. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders began to dissolve, and a faint smile broke across his face, effectively chasing away the lingering shadows of the night.
Deep within his bones, he felt certain that he was about to break his rule of never calling a random number twice.
author’s note: i hope you guys liked it 🙆🏻♀️♥️ do you want this to be a twoshot or should I make it a series? would you like it to be rooted in canon? i have so many questions ☝🏻😭. this was a weird experience because I’m so used to writing for Dhurandhar, that taking up a new character felt daunting. i hope Pritam didn’t feel ooc 🥲🥲. is the reader-insert character giving MJ vibes? because that’s what i was going for 🙂↔️.
Sypnosis- Uzair had to compete with his dearest jaanu's brother for her love
a/n- @mujhekoimarsbhejdo wrote this and is forcing me to post this 😠, jk we wrote this together kind of 50-50( not a good guy or bad boy 50-50, anyone get it...?) but the idea was hers so hehehe ,my first co written fic, its crack fic-ish tbh
warnings- kissing, hickies, none other than that
We all have experienced numerous days in our lives where we feel that every entity in the universe is plotting against us. Uzair was going through a similar situation, he was having a horrible day. His morning was ruined when he spilled his chai over his kurta, which coerced him into taking a shower and changing so as to remove that stench and residue.
His day became progressively worse when he reached the factory and was met with a broken machine caused due to a worker's blunder. This in turn led to the delay of the consignment and he had to bear the brunt of Rehman Bhai’s anger because it was an important deal and would cost them a significant amount of funds.
Above all, he did not have the time or the energy to talk to you and hear you chat about your day, he was terribly missing your voice as it would always provide him solace whenever his day went haywire. Uzair’s longing to hold you increased with each passing minute he spent at the factory, he just wanted to see you, wrap his arms around you and breath in your scent which would immediately calm his nerves but he was currently stuck at the factory, having to deliver the shipment himself, because apparently he was supposed to do it since he had been negligent in supervising the job (yeah uzi baby get punishment).
When Uzair reached home late and night, he did not waste a single moment and dialed you up, you picked it up within the first few rings and he would be lying to himself if he did not involuntarily sigh and place his hand on his heart when he heard your soft, a quenching bestowal to his soul “Hello..” the voice reached him broken distributed phone signals of his nokia but over all city interference it was still so sweetly yours.
“Kya kar rahi ho, meri jaan?” he said lovingly as if leaning more into the phone would bring him to you
“Achha ab ja kar yaad ayi meri?,” you spoke whispering into the phone your puerile frustration evident
“Aisa nahi hai. Pura din tumhe yaad kar raha tha. Tadap raha tha tumse baat karne ke liye.”
“Mujhe nahi lagta, agar yaad ati toh ek toh call karte..pata hai subah se das sms kar chuki hoon mai” your voice got lower into murmurs but only more intense
“Aree jaanu tum toh jaanti hi ho factory ka kaam aur aaj din toh itna bakwaas gaya ki puchu mat”
“Baadh mei jaaye aapki factory ka kaam” you exclaimed but the voice barely carried to his ears
“Tum itne dheere kyu baat kar rahi ho? Kya hua”
“Kuch nahi bas Zaid so raha hai, vo uth gaya toh abbu tak baat phela dega humaari” you hushed watching down at Zaid who was curled into your chest
“Kya me tumhe milne aa sakta hu? Bohot yaad aa rahi hai. Tumhe dekhe bina neend nahi ayegi..” he spoke, his voice tinged with hope and longing as he awaited your reply.
“Nahi nahi, bohot risky hai, Zaid uth gaya toh problem ho jayega,” you denied firmly.
“Meri jaan please, tumse milne ke liye bechain ho rahi hu. Please main bohot dhyaan rakhkar aaunga aur zyada shor bhi nahi hoga.” The draining affairs of the day made him sound almost desperate.
Hearing the ache in his voice as he pleaded,made you caved in because you wanted to meet him too, “Theeke aa jana par zara bhi shor mat karna, Zaid bohot gehri neend me hai, Agar abbu ko pata chal gaya toh masla ho jayega.”
The transition in his voice from throbbing to elated was quick and he replied with a “Abhi aya” in a bustling tone before the line on the other end went dead.
You had to control your cry of excitement so as to not wake Zaid up who was curled against you. Your happiness was short lived when you felt him stir and look up at you with his bleary eyes and ask you sluggishly in his adorable voice.
“Aap kisse baat kar rahe the?”
Despite having the look of a deer caught in headlights on your face you replied with barely contained anxiety, “Koi mahi bas Afsana see baat kar rahi thi. Tum so jao.”
Even in his sleep addled haze he had the energy to ask more questions
“Kya baat kar rahe the?,” Zaid inquired.
“Kuch nahi baccha. Bas padhai ki baat chal rahi thi. Tum please so jao varma Ammi hume dategi.”
This frantic attempt to put him to sleep were futile because Zaid’s inquisitiveness overruled his desire to sleep.
“Kaisi padhai ki baat kar rahe the?” His voice growing more curious.
“Arre baba so jao-”
“Nahi sona mujhe. Aapse baat karni hai.” He sat up on the bed and looked at you with a soft smile. Your heart melted at the sight but it struck you that Uzair was coming to meet you and Zaid was showing no signs of drowsiness.
You texted Uzair a string of messages stricken with panic,
“UZAIR ABORT MISSION”
“MAT AANA ZAID UTH GAYA”
“UZAIR”
“ARRE MESSAGE DEKHO”
Meanwhile, Uzair was driving his jeep, humming a random song’s tune, his phone was in the glove box and he did not see the messages
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Uzair has snuck into your house far too many times one can count. You had gotten together when you were young so he knew every nook and corner of your fathers estate, he knew from which way to enter, how to bypass the cameras and the security guards too, even climbing into your room through your balcony has become purely a muscle memory for him, something he could even do when intoxicated or sleepy.
He climbed into your balcony with expert precision, stealthy enough not to make a single sound. His first and obvious instinct was to jump into the room and shower you with kisses, his eyes widened in panic and he felt his heart thump loudly against his ribcage but it was too late, he was here now and yes you were there plopped against the pillow that rested at the headboard but so was your brother sitting up straight and staring directly at him with big curious eyes.
Zaid did not know the pole of a man who looked mildly (very) terrifying standing in his and his aapi’s room.
“Aapi ye kaun hai?”
You felt your heart in your throat, not knowing what to answer, the first instinct that came to your mind was to pretend nothing was there so you replied perplexed with barely concealed trepidation (its my fav word sorry)
“Kaha kaun hai?”
“Vo balcony ke idhar.” Zaid pointed to where Uzair was standing like a man struck by lighting.
“Arre baccha kuch nahi udhar,” ypu replied with utmost sincerity
“Par aapi vo darawne dikhte hai,” zaid inched closer to you, curling into your chest to ease his fears
“Shhh so jao, so jao. Aaj kal bohot horror movies dekh rahe ho tum phir raat ko sote nahi ho tum,” you chided him, feeling a twinge of guilt scolding the poor child.
“Par-“
“Par var kuch nahi so jao shh,” you patted his head so he would sleep quickly.
It was no easy feat to put this mini thunderstorm to sleep, he kept squirming,
“Aapi kahani sunao,” he asked pouting because he knew you would fall for it
“Konsi sunao?”
“Koi bhi :))”
You started narrating a very made up on the spot story of how Spider Man and Barbie once saved the world from an evil dracula.
Uzair was hearing you narrate this obviously fictional story with nothing but love in his eyes , he was entranced, he watched Zaid curled into you, how you gently ran your hand through the child’s hair, while the other patted his back, mathe hard lines of his face morphing into a soft expression, his usually aloof self had an imperceptible smile on his face.
After a lot of squirming and questions about the fantastic story he finally fell asleep and you and Uzair collectively sighed in relief. You gently shifted Zaid so both of you were comfortable.
Uzair treaded closer with calculated steps, wary enough not to make a sound and sat on the bed at a glacial pace so as to not wake Zaid up, with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes you knew what he was upto. You shook your hide trying to fight the wide smile that said your surrender to his charm,
“ Please jaanu bas ek baar I missed you so much” “ I missed you too” you whispered, tucking your hair behind your ears, watching him inch closer till your nose touched, you giggled low, closing your eyes, tilting your head up further.
He pressed his slips slow against your, moving in a steady rhythm that drowned all the stress and havoc for the day for him and all the lingering insecurity and restlessness from yours, he pull back gently to find you still smiling that sweet smile eyes closed, he couldn't resist giving you a peck to your forehead saying against the skin “ I love you” “ I love you too”
You blinked up, “Bas ab jao” He pouted, dragging his lips down the arch of your cheek to breathing heavy at your the crook of your neck, “ Ngh” You clutched at the bedsheets moaning softly as she started to suckle on the skin, “ Uzair” You warned but your own voice breaked “ Uzair please koi uth jayega” You hissed biting on your lips, his teeth were grazing hard enough to leave a mark and you it was intentional getting back at you for the trick you pulled off last week by emptying out his cigarette box and filling it with rolled paper.
You were about to give in like you did to his charm almost every time when you heard the small squeak beside you, “ AAPI DRACULA!” “Kaha mujhe toh nahi dikh raha” Uzair grinned tipping off his head, ignoring the dead glare you gave him all while trying to sush Zaid back to sleep.
The next morning you dressed incredibly modest in accordance with the girl you were, the dupatta draped over your neck so deliberately that it looked like you had spent all morning trying to perfect it ( you had). You were the last one to sit at the table because of the time you had put into perfecting your appearance, it had a reason of course; you required your parents’ permission to go out with your “friend”(Its Uzair), so you had to look as if you were obedience personified and partly to hide the purple mark blooming on your neck
You noticed had been playing with the food on your plate for a while, you braced yourself and were just about to speak when Zaid said,
“Baba mene kal humare kamre me dracula dekha.”
You almost choked on your food, your father questioned back, perplexed,
“Dracula?”
“Haa baba lamba, dadhi th-”
You had to intervene before he exposed your secret and possibly be the reason for the future confinement in your room,
“Baba iski baat mat suno aap, horror movies dekhta rehta hai aur bolta hai Dracula dikh gaya, uska vehem tha”
You added “Vaise baba…mujhe vo..”
“Kya?”
“Baba aaj mujhe apni dost ke saath bahar jaana hai….”
There was four seconds of silence before your father replied, almost interrogating
“Kyu jana hai? Aur kaha jaana hai?”
“Bas..idhar hi Baba, uske ghar hi jaungi, aur 8 baje tak vapis aa jaungi”
You could heart your heart beating in your ear as you awaited for your fathers reply
“Theek hai, chali jao, par sirf uske ghar pe, aur kidhar nahi, aur Zaid ko bhi leke jao apne saath”
“KYU?” your voice sounded a little too anxious at the prospect of taking Zaid with you
“Iska kya matlab hai, me aur tumhari ammi ghar par nahi hai aaj, toh iska khayal kaun rakhega, agar jaana hai toh isse bhi leke jao varna ghar par raho tum dono” You knew one line they didn't say out loud, Zaid was supposed to be their second head, chaperoning you everywhere you went so you not even by accident end up with a boyfriend, but you were also headstrong and ended with the very opposite of your parents idea - with a gangster as your lover, and little did they knew their small munchkin was on your side more than he was on theirs.
“Nahi nahi, leke jaati hu me isse apne saath,” you said, accepting your defeat.
You turned your head to the side to look at Zaid who was beaming up at you because he was going to have fun with his aapi today and felt a little bad for feeling so stingy about bringing him along but it wasnt for Zaid but for the fact that what you were going to tell him? Explain to him about Uzair.
You had gotten ready by noon, wearing a short dark blue kurti paired with jeans but by the time you were down, Zaid was already bouncing off the walls, unable to contain his excitement.
“Aapi chale jaldi please”
“Arre baccha ruko, itni kya jaldi hai”
You offered him your hand which he willingly grabbed and started skipping instead of walking. Your original plan included your driver dropping you off outside your friend’s house and Uzair picking you up from there. The plan remained the same but now you had to reveal your relationship with Uzair to Zaid or else would definitely vomit everything out in front of your father. Despite Zaid being almost 2 decades younger than you (yeah parents got no chill) , he knew the majority of your secrets and he kept them to himself, although it required occasional bribing but you knew they were safe so him knowing about Uzair would not be a major issue unless he revealed it in excitement.
The car ride came to an end outside your friends house and both of you got down, you waited for the driver to leave still not going inside, Zaid asked,
“Aapi hume andar jaana hai na?”
“Nahi, hum kidhar aur jaa rahe hai..”
He was very delighted to hear that, his eyes lit up,
“Sach?! Kidharr??!!”
“Shh shh zor se mat bolo, clifton beach jaa rahe hai, kisiko batana nahi okay? Promise?”
“Pinky promise nahi bataunga!!”
He had not been to the beach in a while, mostly because your parents were unavailable due to both political and business matters and unfortunately you had college to attend and you couldn’t always take him. The happiness emanating from him made your heart swell
“Aapi hum kaise jaa rahe hai beach pe?”
“Vo…ek gaaadi ayegi aut usme hum bethke jayenge”
As if on cue, a jeep came right in front of you, Uzair got down to open the door for you and both Zaid and Uzair shared two seconds of eye contact. Zaid tugged at the sleeve of your kurti to whisper,
“Aapi ye toh dracula hai :0”
“Baccha aisa nahi kehte, its not nice. Chalo gaadi me baith te hai”
You picked him up to place him in the back seat and occupied the front seat. Zaid was still not over the fact that the man driving the car could be dracula, he had to make sure he was not to keep him and his aapi safe, he inquired,
“Aapka naam kya hai?”
“Uzair,” Uzair replied without looking behind. His tone carried a certain softness which he generally did not use
“Aap karte kya hai?”
“Kaam karta hu..”
“Kaisa kaam?”
That was the question, Uzair did not have a child safe answer to but he had to say something so he just said,
“Factory me kaam karta hu..”
“Kaisi factory?”
Uzair muttered an imperceptible “Ya Allah” under his breath whereas you had to put your palm over your mouth to prevent laughter erupting from you at this little interrogation.
Uzair was mildly exasperated now, not at the child but at the absurdity of his question but he still answered,
“Nakli bandooko ki factory me…”
“Matlab vo toy vaaali?! :0”
“Ha..”
“Woooow :0”
Throughout the whole ride, Zaid was interrogating Uzair to reassure his and his sisters safety, he was satisfied but you had to chide him quite a few times because the questions were never ending, when you finally reached Clifton Beach Zaid looked like he had been handed the moon, his eyes were all wide and bright and a wide smile on his face because he could not contain his happiness. He basically dragged you closer to the shore, his feet leaving small imprints on the sand.
All three of you sat a little farther away from the shore, Zaid felt like he was dreaming because everything today had been according to his own wishes. You ran a hand through his hair to fix them and asked him,
“Maza aa raha hai na?”
“Ha aapi bohot aa raha hai,” he snuggled closer to you and you kissed his forehead.
“Kuch khana hai?”
Zaid nodded eagerly before saying , “Ice cream” with a wide grin, smiling ear to ear
“No- tumhe bukhar ho jayega” Uzair wanted to charm the boy so he slipped between your command, flashing Zaid a ‘I am the cool-er person here smile’
Uzair tried to play the good cop, patted Zaid’s back
“Ek baar se kuch nahi hota, me leke aata hi tumhe chahiye toh”
Zaid’s reaction was the complete opposite of what Uzair had expected , instead of being happy and liking Uzair, Zaid had just narrowed his eyes and side eyed him …he clearly wasn't having it, nothing for the man who looked like a dracula and tried to suck his sister blood, he wasn't impressed not at all.Uzair was thoroughly confused and gave you a look which said, “Maine kiya kya?”
Zaid just scooted closer to you, leaning against your arm, and questioned,
“Aapi hum inhe apne saath kyu leke aye hai?”
You had to reveal it to him now, he was going to find out one day or the other and him being quite perceptive would not have a hard time understanding it either so you cleared your throat before answering him,
“Yeh mere boyfriend hai….”
“Aapka boyfriend hai?!” His voice had gotten squeaky due to the sheer disbelief in his expression.
“Zor se mat bolo! Ha hai! Baith ja ab”
Zaid stared at Uzair for a good twenty seconds before just nodding. You needed the approval of the child , even if you did not want to,
“Kaise lage tumhe ye?”
“Matlab….theek hi hai..par yahi mile the aapke :( ?” Zaid was very concerned as to why his beautiful, dearest sister decided to love ‘this’ and above all he looked like a terrifying monster from his dreams, he was quite frankly disappointed in her taste
“Par ab tumhe pasand aye kya? Ye tumhe spider man aur iron man laake denge”
Uzair looked so hopeful as if his entire worth and future was dependant on a toddlers a statement
“Voh toh baba bhi laake dete hai aur aap bhi usmei kya naya hai” Uzair held his hand to his heart dramatically to signify the hurt caused, “ Aise nahi bolte, dekho kitne acche hai na bhaiya” You squeezed Uzair’s cheek to make him look less scary for Zaid, for him to watch how easily you could handle this 6 feet two giant. “ yeh dekho yeh tumhe life sized spider man denge, tumse bhi taller” Zaid eyes shot up, and he nodded for once a happy quick nod. “ Sach mei!?”
Uzair saw the opportunity, he wasn't going to let it go to waster, “ Haan mai la sakta hoon, tumhari height ka double” He lied, there weren't any shop that was selling this but he was going to make it happen so technically it wasn't a lie.
“ Bhaiya kitne acche hai!”
You seized the opportunity to make Zaid like Uzair more and added,
“Haina! Aur vo na tumhe jo chahiye vo chocolate lake denge aur pata hai tumhe vo tumhe hotwheels ka pura set bhi denge”
“Sach?! Phir toh ye mujhe bohot pasand aa gaye!!” Zaid was on cloud nine, giggling and excited like a puppy that had heard all his favourite words, Uzair sighed relieved that he still had his charm with kids the one he has developed over time by handling Naeim and Faisal.
You walked a bit further with them and Zaid was bombarding him with questions he did not know how to react with, because Zaid was still convinced that this man was a dracula despite how many times you had corrected him, but at least they were getting along now.
When the sound of the water crashing against each other get louder Zaid turned his head watching the waves meet and and froth at the edges, seeing the small distraction Uzair simply held your hand getting a moment to watch you leisurely this was not the date he had signed up for but it felt more than good to be included into your family in some way.
“ Acchi lag rahi hoo” He whispered fondly and you smiled resting your head on his bicep and he flexed it of course he did, you just rolled your eyes. Zaid had turned back watching the spectacle now a little concerned at why you are standing so close to the dracula other than that he was fine, he did not really know what the boyfriend meant apart from the fact that it made his parents scrunch up their face or from the movies he had heard it being said.
“ Aapi boyfriend kya hota hai”
“ Boyfriend..yaani ke hum dono ek dusre ko pasand karte hai ”
“ OH” he blinked once before nodding, understanding the concept 10 times more he did before
“Lekin ek baat toh tumhe mai batana hi bhul gayi…”
“Konsi?”
“Dekho mujhe ye bhaiya pasand hai aur inhe me, toh me toh unhi ke saath rahungi na, aapka saath kaise rahu? Nikaah ke baad toh ye mujhe leke chale jayenge”
You could see the colour leave Zaid’s face
“Kya?!”
“Haa puchh lo khud inse”
Zaid turned to Uzair to ask him,
“Aap meri aapi ko le jaoge?” his eyes were glassy with unshed tears
“Unse kya poochh rahe ho baccha? Me bata rahi hu vo leke jayenge par tumhe toh bada vala spiderman milega na. Ab batao tumhe ye achhe lage?”
Zaid’s gaze drifted downwards , he was staring at his palms, the idea of having a spider man toy larger than him sounded appealing but it meant his Aapi would leave
“Nahi achhe lage..” his voice suddenly sounded small, lips pursing into a pout, he waddled forward pushing his small hands at both your legs so you two would stand apart, he slapped at Uzair’s legs once before clinging to yours, “ Nahi ..aap inke saath nahi jaogi” “ Aree kyu? acche hai na bhaiya kitne”
“Bilkul achhe nahi hai ye,” he huffed and locked his arms around your legs
“Aisa nahi bolte kisike baare me,” you tried to gently reprimand him but the waterworks began, it always made you panic when Zaid would start crying, currently Uzair was panicking more than you were.
“Mai kya karu?!” Uzair was alarmed beyond limits this was his first chance to impress her family and he failed at it miserably
“Kuch mat karo, Uzair. Ruko”
You picked Zaid up, he immediately wrapped his arms around your neck, his face in the crook of your neck, as he let the tears fall freely. The sniffles broke your heart
“Nahi nahi kahi nahi jaa rahi hai, tumhare paas hi rahungi. Ye bhaiya mujhe nahi le jayenge pakka”
“Sach?” He needed to be reassured that his aapi was going to stay with him for the rest of his life
“Sacchi. Pinkie promise. Pehle rona bad kar do” you wiped his tears before he buried his face in the crook of your neck again
Uzair looked mildly offended when you told Zaid he was not taking you with him. He mouthed to you, “Mai toh leke jaunga” you shot him a glare while rubbing Zaid’s back the action made him shut up real quick
Zaid mumbled something which was meant for you but it was loud enough for Uzair to hear too
“Agar ye apko leke gaye toh mai inko marunga..”
“Kya karoge aap? Idhar dekh ke batao jara,” you were fighting every facial muscle trying not to laugh.
“Main inko marunga,” he said with utmost seriousness, even crossing his arms trying to look intimidating
Uzair se “Tumhari aapi meri hai, me toh leke jaunga inhe”
“Nahi meri aapi hai! Mai roz kulfi khata hu! Body banti hai usse! Me aapko marunga”
“Accha mai toh darr hi gaya” Zaid cries were changed into this childish anger seeing the smug smile on his face and Uzair was doing it intentionally to distract him and at this point it was fun to watch something so little threaten him. So he stood his hands crossed over chest grinning widely.
“Zaid tumhe pata hai inhone meri kissi lene ki try kiya” Uzair raised his eyebrows at the said ‘accusation’ and nodded proudly
“Chhhi meri aapi ko sirf me kissi dunga” He hugged your face so as to protect you if Uzair tried to kiss you
“Koi nahi beta ek baar tum jao toh fir tumhari didi meri” Zaid look back over his shoulder, sticking out his tongue “ Bleh :p”
“Par maine bola na tumhari aapi meri hai, kuch aur din vo tumharien saath hai, badme toh mai uthake le jaunga”
Zaid's chubby face shifted, he was still a kid after all and breaking into big ugly sobs was the usual so he did once again “Uzair tum bhi! Bacche ko rulate ho! Sorry bolo use”
“Sorry…par mene jhooth thodi kaha..”
“Shh!” It took you a while to soothe him this humming soft, patting the back of head slow and gentle in continuous motion that made him sleepy and fall asleep in your arms, you gave Uzair a tired nudge resting on his shoulder feeling sleepy yourself, he picked you both up placing you ever so carefully in the backseat and got to driving, bribed the driver to keep it hush shifting you from one car to another himself as you snored in sync with Zaid.
Now since Zaid was aware of your little secret your ‘ innocent’ brother had made its life purpose to use it as an active threat, and made it mandatory to chaperone you every time you went out to meet Uzair. For the first days it was cute but now Uzair could not make out with his jaan, or let alone talk dirty on phone because her little brother was lurking around always and turned into both of them glaring foolishly at each other whenever they met eyes.
In another one of those instances you found yourself at Uzair’s haveli since you had baked a cake, while you were in the kitchen trying to cut it properly in symmetry Uzair was finding the perfect movement to slip out and he did when Zaid became entranced with the gun on his wall ( decorative piece), he scurried to the kitchen, getting a hold of you from behind, his large hands going to wrap around yours waist as he swept you off the floor, twirling you once making you giggle.,
“ Bas bas koi dekh lega”
You hushed him jumping out of his hold, but he wasn't having it, he needed a kiss.
He pressed his lips against yours carrying the sweet yet desperate rhythm for almost two minutes before you pinched his arm,
“ Bhaiya bhabhi ghar par hai tumhare sharam nahi hai tumhe”
“ Trust me I have walked in on them doing worse”
He licked the frosting off the cake making you tut once again,
“ Uzair manners”
“Arre yaar ek baar aur bas” He leaned in pointing his finger at his cheek impatiently, “ Jao na pareshan mat karo” “ Ek baar na jaanu please” You sighed pressing a quick peck, “ Ab jao”
Uzair got what he wanted, a mean to piss off the kid in the bedroom, yes he knew he was being pathetic putting up beef with a *idk remember the age* but it was so much fun. He stepped back inside one hand on his cheek to cheek cover the pink lipstick mark you left slowly uncovering the mark for well... dramatic effect
"Yeh kya hai? " Zaid shamed him from across the room eyeing the obvious outline of lips,
"Tumhari didi ne diya"
Zaid gasped in absolute betrayal, " Nahi ho hi nahi sakta unhone promise kiya tha"
" Ab toh hogaya" He smirked leaning at the wall " Ab toh mai tumhaari didi ko le jaunga"
Zaid gasped in absolute betrayal, " Nahi ho hi nahi sakta unhone promise kiya tha"
" Ab toh hogaya" He smirked leaning at the wall " Ab toh mai tumhaari didi ko le jaunga"
Zaid could not fathom the sheer betrayal, “No- didi meri hai bola na maine aapko? Me aapko maaru kya?” He stood up on the bed but still looked comically small compared to Uzair sitting on the bed
“Accha kya? Aap toh itne chhotu se ho? Kaise maroge mujhe?” Uzair did not feel an ounce of guilt for harassing the poor child.
“Me chhota nahi hu! Ye dekho meri body!” Zaid showed his noodle-chubby arm which made Uzair burst out laughing
“Isse kya hi hoga mera?”
This made Zaid pout and he huffed before pushing Uzair with all the strength his small form could muster, it did not even move Uzair by a micrometer which frankly bruised Zaid’s ego
“Meri did sirf mujhse pyaar karti hai aapse nahi!”
“Agar vo aapse pyaar karti toh vo aapko kissi deti lekin unhone kissi toh mujhe di matlab vo aapse pyaar nahi karti.” It was so childish of Uzair to bully a 4 year old but it was fun so he was going to let himself enjoy it. He even stuck his tongue out at the child to vex him even more
This provoked Zaid even more he started throwing pillows at Uzair which he caught effortlessly, what Zaid did not realise was that while throwing the nearest objects at Uzair he yeeted your phone at him which went flying straight at the wardrobe and then on the ground.
The gravity of the situation dawned upon Zaid and both of them just looked at each other
“Oopsie…” Zaid got down from the bed in a hurry to pick up the phone, and all he saw was random coloured lines on the phone and the screen just bounced forward.
“Ab didi margegi mujhe..” the fear in his voice evident as he looked up at Uzair
“Nahi maregi…mai kuch karta hu”
“Pakka na?” Zaid looked like he was about to cry thinking maybe the tears would make his sister go easy on him
“Ha pakka ,arre mere baap rona band karo aap pehle,” Uzair picked Zaid up, rubbing his back, “Aap Faisal ke saath khelne jao me dekh leta hu sab, okay?”
Zaid nodded before Uzair put him down and he went sprinting downstairs
Uzair didn't want him to have his first heartbreak of her sister getting upset at him and yet and he knew it was half his fault too at provoking a fight in the first place, Zaid needed some lesson to be grounded for his occasional violent outburst but Uzair found himself unable to handle his crying face, not even letting you catch the whiff who was actually behind the incident and too all the blame and scolding on himself.
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Zaid got back at the gesture when you finally had to declare it to your parents that you were in a relationship and had been for more than 2 years now that too with a notorious gangster and now you wanted to marry him- maybe you shouldn't have dropped all the bombs at once. Scolding was invietable at this point, you stood with your hands folded in the front as the taunts got louder and louder weighing down your shoulders when he decided to step in, standing 4 feet tall in front of your parents with a fiercly protective stance, the braveness making your heart melt
" Voh dracula hai toh kya hau bahut acche hai" that did ease some of the tension
Although they didn't stop fighting all together and how could you forget the heartbreakingly loud sobs he let out when the decorated car came to take you away from the venue to his house on the day of your nikaah, so much so Uzair had to pick him up and take him along in the car with you both what he didn't expect was to find Zaid sitting wide awake on their bed on their wedding night, you held in laughing seeing the life leave his face, he was not going to fight for his now WIFE with her little brother, might as well parcel the kid back home.
a/n- no i dont think blue is for boys and pink is for yeh line dividers was a coincidence lol hehehe bale bale mere bacche ne likhe hai show some love ( threat)
Hostel 4 mein kadam rakhna matlab apni izzat aur dimaag, dono ko daav par lagana. As a proud resident of Hostel 3—H4’s ultimate rivals—you had strictly no business being there. But destiny was cruel, and your three best friends just happened to be the biggest clowns of H4: Anni, Acid, and Sexa.
"Oye hoye! Look who’s here," Sexa exclaimed, leaning against the doorframe with a dramatic, slow-motion wink that looked more like an eye twitch. "Humari pyaari H3 ki rani! Waise, aaj kal bada glow kar rahi ho? koi naya chakkar hai kya, meri jaan?"
"Shut up, Sexa," you laughed, picking up a stray slipper from the floor and threatening to throw it at him. "Apni lines kisi aur par maarna."
"Abey chhod na usko, Sexa," Anni said, not looking up from his drafting board, his hair standing on end from engineering graphics trauma. "She’s the only sane person who visits this mental asylum. Acid ko dekh, subah se dimaag kharab karke baitha hai."
Right on cue, Acid kicked the door open, his face red with pure, unadulterated rage. "Maa kasam, yaar! Yeh hostel ki billi apni aukaat bhool gayi hai! Madarchod kahiki. My favorite cream biscuit was on the table. Aisi ki taisi uski, bhadwi saali! I turned around for two seconds, and she snatched it. Next time I see that cat, I am launching a full-scale missile attack. Behenchod chodunga nahi usko!"
"Acid, tu ek billi se haar gaya?" Sexa giggled, nudging him.
"Tu chup kar, saale!" Acid snapped.
Before the argument could escalate into a wrestling match, the room suddenly went dead silent. The heavy footsteps in the corridor stopped right outside the door.
Derek stood at the threshold. He was drenched in sweat from football practice, a white towel hung around his neck, looking every bit like the intimidating H4 captain everyone feared. His sharp eyes scanned the room, instantly locking onto you. His jaw tightened.
"H3 ki public humare room mein kya kar rahi hai?" Derek asked, his voice low, commanding, and entirely too attractive for your own good.
You stood up, crossing your arms, refusing to let him intimidate you. "Relax, senior. Apne doston se milne aayi hoon. Mujhe nahi pata tha ki H4 mein aane hone ke liye visa lagta hai."
Derek took a slow step forward, a mocking, confident smirk playing on his lips. "Listen, junior. General Championship sar par hai. Mujhe kya pata tum yahan humari football strategy churaane aayi ho? H3 waale toh hote hi hain cheater."
"Oh, please! Tumhari strategy?" you countered with a smirk of your own. "You mean 'ball Derek ko pass karo aur bhagwan se dua maango'? Iske alawa koi strategy hai bhi?"
Anni instantly choked on his chai, coughing violently. Acid let out a loud, chaotic whistle. "Bhai sahab! Isne toh seedha gaand phad di! Captain ko direct attack!" Acid muttered, looking thoroughly entertained.
Derek’s eyes narrowed, stepping directly into your personal space. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. "Kal. Shaam ko theek paanch baje, football ground par. Let’s see if your game is as loud as your mouth, junior."
"Toh taiyar rehna, Senior. Haarne ke baad rona mat," you snapped right back.
The fierce rivalry lasted exactly three weeks. It ended on a dusty, chaotic evening on the sports field when you actually managed to nutmeg Derek during a friendly practice match, passing the ball straight to Sexa who scored the winning goal while Anni was busy tying his shoelaces.
Derek had frozen in absolute shock, staring at you with wide eyes before a loud, genuine laugh broke across his face. "Chalo, maan gaye yaar! You actually have guts. H3 waalon mein thoda toh dimaag hai."
From that day on, the biting sarcasm shifted into something completely different. The "enemy" tag disappeared, and you became the unofficial anchor of the H4 group.
But engineering college has a habit of crushing souls. A month later, the academic pressure finally broke you. It was 2:00 AM, and you were sitting alone on the dark H4 terrace, staring blankly at a pile of failed fluid mechanics diagrams. Tears of sheer frustration were silently slipping down your cheeks.
"Akele akele ro rahi ho? Humari permission li thi?"
You looked up quickly, wiping your face, to see Derek standing there. He wasn't wearing his usual intense captain expression; his face was incredibly soft, almost worried. In his hands, he held two steaming paper cups of cutting chai.
He sat down on the concrete ledge right next to you, handing over a cup. "Anni ne bataya tera dimaag kharab ho gaya hai. Itna load kyun leti hai? You are smarter than half of the idiots in this college."
"Nahi ho raha hai, Derek," you whispered, your voice cracking as you stared into the tea. "Yeh fluid mechanics mere dimaag se upar ja raha hai. I’m going to fail this semester."
Derek sighed softly. He reached out, his large, warm hand gently gripping your shoulder, shaking you slightly. "Mujhe dekh. Agar H4 ke launde Acid ki khana banane ki koshish aur Sexa ki bakwaas dating advice ko survive kar sakte hain, toh tu yeh jhaantu exam aaram sey nikaal sakti hai. Aur agar samajh nahi aa raha? Toh kal se main library mein baithunga tere saath. Jab tak tera syllabus khatam nahi hota, main kahin nahi ja raha. Clear?"
You looked at him, your heart doing a strange, sudden flip against your ribs. The rough, tough Derek was being completely gentle with you. "Since when did the angry captain become so sweet?"
He looked away, a faint, rare blush creeping up his neck as he rubbed the back of his head. "Sirf tere liye. Baaki sabke liye toh main abhi bhi unka baap hoon."
The transition from "good friends" to "something dangerous" happened during the legendary post-GC celebration party. H4 had crushed the competition, and the entire hostel common room was a war zone of flying blue gulal, tearing shirts, loud beats, and absolute madness.
You were standing near the corner corridor, trying to avoid getting drenched in beer, when Derek spotted you. Ignoring the juniors who were trying to lift him on their shoulders, he walked straight through the crowd, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you out into the quiet, dimly lit back balcony.
"Puri hostel naach rahi hai, aur tu yahan chhupi hui hai?" Derek asked, his voice dropping to a low, husky register over the distant thumping of the music.
"Congratulations, Captain," you smiled up at him, your heart beating fast. "Finally, GC humara... I mean, tumhara hua."
"Mera nahi, humara," Derek murmured, stepping incredibly close. The smell of sweat, cologne, and victory enveloped you. He reached out, his thumb gently wiping a smudge of blue color from your cheekbone. His touch lingered, his thumb brushing against your lower lip.
Your breath hitched. "Derek..."
"Bohot time se ek baat bolni thi," he said, his eyes dropping to your lips. "Football se zyada... mera dhyaan tere par rehne laga hai."
Before you could even process the confession, the balcony door burst open with a loud BANG.
"Oye hoye hoye! Yahan toh alag hi match chal raha hai! Direct goal!" Sexa yelled, holding a half-empty bottle, his eyes wide with scandalous joy. "Bhai, humein toh laga tha Derek sirf trophy uthayega, yahan toh bhabhi hi utha li!"
Acid stormed in right behind him, holding a bucket of cold water. "Abey saale Sexa! Teri Maa ka bhosda, teri gaand mein keeda hai kya?! Why did you interrupt them?! Maa kasam, itni mushkil se toh Derek line pe aaya tha! They were about to kiss. Chutiye, poore moment ki aisi ki taisi kar di!"
Anni peeked from behind Acid's shoulder, holding a small notepad. "Guys, gaali mat do, look at Derek's face. Bhai ka chehra dekho, pura tamatar ban gaya hai. Record tod diya isney aaj. Mujhe yeh draw karna hai."
Derek closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in pure exhaustion, letting out a loud growl. "Tum log na... ek number ke harami ho. Maa kasam, kal sabko extra five rounds lagwaunga ground ke!"
But he didn't move away from you. Instead, Derek wrapped his arm securely around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest, claiming you right in front of them. He looked down at you, his eyes melting with pure warmth and affection.
"Chhod unko," Derek whispered near your ear, ignoring the chaotic hooting from the trio. "Tu bol. What's your answer, junior?"
You laughed, leaning back into his solid chest, completely ignoring Acid and Sexa who were now fake-crying in the corner. "Mera answer haan hai, Captain. Waise bhi, your strategy needs some work."
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This is for my babygirl @cvclee. She is such a freaking talented editor; her edits on Derek have left me a little dizzy and with a blazing crush on the man, Derek D'Souza. Please check out her edits. I hope I have done him justice.
This is the 5th part of the mini-series. This is based on the character of Derek D'Souza, played by Tahir Raj Bhasin, in the movie Chhichhore (2019).
Constructive criticism appreciated. This is not beta read, so if you guys find some typos/ errors, please feel free to correct me.
Warnings: crush at first sight, fluff, angst, slow burn, Grumpy x sunshine, mutual pining, idiots in love, college romance
Happy reading....
(Part I), (Part II), (Part III) (Part IV)
PART V
“Ai Derek,” Raggie smirked as he called out Derek aloud. H4 had lost the badminton match, and it was bad. They had lost so many games that it was almost like they would be losers again this year. “Apne teen saal to tune gava diya hain in sab ka time kyu waste kar raha hain?” Derek fumed beside him as Raggie continued, “Gc mein waise bhi tumhara kuch nahi hone wala”
“GC abhi tak kahatam nahi hua” Ani said sternly.
“Aree ye to bolta bhi hain. Mujhe laga bas Derek ke peeche dum hilata hain” Derek tried to ignore him as Ani stood up. Raggie continued, “Aisa haal karungi agle saal dum daba ke ghumonge”
“Abe angrezi kutte, apni aukat mein reh ke baat kar” Acid had had enough of him.
“Ai saale looser, tu mereko aukar dikhaye ga”
“Acid, relax, kutta hain sala. Bhaukne de” Derek helf Acid back to prevent a fight.
“Hain bhaukta hu, lekin jisdin kata na, peet mein 14 pakke hain”
“Aree jaa”, Derek dismissed him. She stood up from her seat, which was just above Derek’s and held his hand to comfort him. Derek responded with a squeeze of his hand.
Raggie looked at her, “Darling, dekhlo kaise loser ko choose kiya hain. Bas baat karta hain kuch ukhar nahi payega”
“Aii usse kya bolta hain mujhe bol na.” Derek finally lost his cool. He dared to drag her into their fight. If it were not for her holding his right hand tight, Derek would have punched him. It was rare for him to lose his cool.
“Kyu insecure ho raha hain? Loser ho to chor degi?” Raggiet red is making him angrier.
“Mind your tongue, Raggie.” She stated, clearly, putting herself between the two fuming guys. Raggie smirked. This angered Derek, “Saale teri to”
“Stop it, Derek. Calm down. Woh tumhe uksa raha hain” She held him down.
The stadium had emptied, and Derek was sitting there, while she was holding his hand. His head was on her lap as she was soothing his hair. She could hear his thoughts running wild. He was usually the composed one; she was the one who would overthink. She wanted to comfort him. He was working so hard. She wanted him to win, but also not at the cost of his well-being.
“It's okay, Derek. Itna serious nahi hote. You are trying your best, na. That is enough.” She finally said, looking at his dark, sullen face.
He suddenly moved his head from her lap and sat straight, “It's not okay. Waise tumhe kaise pata chalega. You don't even play any sport”
“What do you mean derek?”
“Kitna bolti ho yaar tum. It's annoying me”
“Wow. Great. I was here trying to comfort you. Okay, main nahi bolungi.”
“Hain okay. Waise bhi loser hain na acha to lagega nahi.” That made her still. What was Derek even saying? Was he hearing himself?
“Pata hain, loser hona ek mindset hota hain. Unless you come out of that, nothing will progress for you.” She answered bluntly. She was angry now.
“Pata hain mujhe. Janta hu. Tu ja na Raggie baitha hoga, you can leave if you want to, waise bhi mera to loser mindset hain. Stay with a winner.”
That was the final nail in the coffin; he brought Raggie into their fight. He clearly knew what her equation with him was. Derek had no real intention behind his words, but it hit her like shards of glass. It was just a reflection of Derek’s insecurity.
“You are crossing your line, Derek. Soch ke baatein bolo.” She spoke till trying to maintain her cool.
“I don’t even want to talk. Tumhe hi baat karni thi.”
“Fine. Bye. I hope you win your GC, Derek.” She stood up and left Derek alone with her thoughts. He regretted it the very moment he heard her footsteps fade away.
The boys had an intense meeting. The men of the H4 hostel had planned to give up their most intense habit. Derek gave up his cigarette. A night later, it was clear he had made a mistake. He was drinking beside Ani, “Nahi bolna chahiye tha yaar. She is my angel. Usse kitna bura laga hoga”
“Dekh bura to tune kiya hain. Ab kya faida? Ye tujhe yesab use bolne se phele sochna chahiye tha. Sorry bolde usse” Ani suggested honestly.
“Woh nahi manegi yaar. Bohot ziddi hain. Uski yehi baat to mujhi sabse zaada acha lagta hain.”
Derek clearly knew his girl. He had made a mistake; hell, he had the worst. He knew her so well, yet he could not control his ego, his mind, his tongue. Guilt was eating him alive. She wanted to support her, stay by his side, comfort her, yet he had done the very thing he should not have: pushed her away. He had built a wall around him; he did not let people close, but she was npt people. He would push people; she was another person. She was the woman he loved, the woman he wanted to be with, the woman he saw a future with. He misses her, her presence, her talking, her scent, her humour. He felt helpless; her support was like an invisible strength for her. He felt his eyes burn, tears forming. It was all his fault, and he had to make it up to her.
“Not fair, Maya.” She wept in Maya’s arms. Her tears wet Maya’s top.
“Yaar aise nahi rote. Ani bhi to mujhse baat nahi kar raha tha tab to tune hi samjhaya tha mujhe”
“That was different,” she sniffed again. “Meri hi galti hain Maya. Mujhe hi chul machi thi na, usko like karti thi, pagal thi uske liye. Bhaar mein jaye” She stood up, wiping her tears.
“Yaar ab dekhogi bhi nahi meri taraf?” Derek blocked her way. He looked up to her, her eyes red, she looked kinda pale, her usual bright smile missing. Derek felt his heart break; he was responsible for this. “Sorry, baby. I am so sorry. Mujhe aise bolna nahi tha. I don’t know what took over me. I will never do this again. Please baby, I am sorry na baby. Maaf kardo.”
“Sorry? Aap thora side haitye mujhe class jana hain,” she said emotionlessly.
“’Aap.’?” Her addressing him as aap gave him more pain than any tournament had ever given. “I am sorry, yaar. Aise maat kar.” He held her hand as she turned away.
“Mera hath choriye, aap senior hain iska matlab ye nahi aap kuch bhi karenge.”
“Badam doodh peete hain. Thanda, extra kesar pista wala?”
“Mujhe sardi lagi hain.” She pulled her hand away from his grip and walked away. Derek felt worse. He had brought it on himself.
He had spent the next few days playing, trying to win the GC because his baby deserved a winner, and also sending sorry messages to her. He had sent 13 written apologies. Send Sexa with flowers, pastries and even those sugar toffies she liked. He knew he would have to apologise more, and he was ready for that. He was sure she was his future; she was the one he wanted to spend his life with. She had softened a little, but she was no less angry. He deserved it, but she came with Maya to cheer H4, which was enough for him now. She did not talk to him, hell did not even look at him, but at least she was there.
“Derek, are you okay?” She bent down to see his injured foot. It was bleeding. The guy from the H3 hostel stepped on his foot while wearing his spiked shoes. It was deliberate, and she saw it.
“Ai dikhta nahi hain kya?” She charged at him.
“Sorry, dear. Apne choices pe regret kar rahi ho na?” Raggie answered.
“Teri to”
“Baby. Choro uses” Derek’s voice made her stop.
“Ruko Derek main abhi bandage karti hu. Kya karte ho tum?”
This made Derek pause; she was caring for him. He felt so good, even in the pain of his foot. This was a blessing in disguise. She started talking to him, finally.
“Gussa chala gaya?”
“Nahi. Per pyaar zaada hain gusse se,” she said, looking at his face. She was still angry, but she loved him. She could not see him in pain. “Kaise bhago ge aise?”
“Karlunga.” Derek was determined now. He would win in front of his girl. He would be the winner. She deserved one.
Derek gave his all in the race. His foot throbbed, but he had to win. He finally crossed the finish line. Acid was in tears; they had won the race.
“Oh my god derek. Wow,” she ran and hugged him tight. He was sitting on the grass and hugged her tighter, and they both fell into the grass.
“I am sorry, baby. Maaf kardo ab.” He held her face in his hands.
“Baadam doodh with kesar and pista?”
He kissed her there in front of the whole crowd. It was his winning moment.
(Ps: This is the last part. I will write an epilogue cause I need some more Derek, and it will be lovey-dovey and indulgent)
Tagging my baddies: @lutt-le-gaya @nevereversaygoodbye @hamzakamehroomkurta @sanamkhanani @mainyahaankyunhoon @aoyamaj3711 @angelicyuna @torumii @sarcastic-ravenpuff @cvclee @miraclejin1204 @diyak11 @sunf1over @hereforfanfictionsfr @tobitoooo @cherryyelixir @saniisinsane @mrgrungusthefrog @sinnoire @opheliasreblog @mujhekoimarsbhejdo @goldenharrysworld @gulaabjamun08 @idonthavechatpateusernamed @indigo-pdf @rutvii @rhopalocera23 @goldenharrysworld @y0uneversawmehere @ooopssssu
(In case any of you guys wanna be added or removed, please tell me in the comments)
For my other fics: My Masterlist
Tropes: Cyber Security Expert / Girlfriend, Established Relationship, Jealousy, Flirting to Teach a Lesson, Protective Boyfriend, Crackfic / Comedy
Synopsis: When a beachside dinner date goes south thanks to a waitress offering "complimentary extra fries," tech genius Pritam Parker remains completely oblivious to the blatant flirting, chalking it up to great hospitality culture. Determined to teach her cluelessly handsome boyfriend a lesson, Reader drops off lunch at the Cyber Cell office the next day and actively flirts with the smooth new transfer. What follows is a total digital system crash in Pritam's brain as his intense jealousy pushes him to pull off a chaotic, petty move right under Inspector Pedro's highly amused nose.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This fanfiction is based on the character of Pritam Parker from Rajkumar Hirani's Pritam & Pedro web series, portrayed by Vir Hirani. It is a work of transformative fiction intended purely for entertainment purposes and is not affiliated with, authorized by, or endorsed by the filmmakers, actors, or production companies.
It was supposed to go well. The vibe at the beachside shack was supposed to be perfect—warm sea breeze, fairy lights, and you sitting across from Pritam, your boyfriend of 6months. The only problem was the waitress assigned to your table doing entirely too much. She had laid down the menus, leaning in so close her hair practically brushed his shoulder. “Our specials today are fresh catch, but for you, I can get the kitchen to make something extra special,” she had said, looking straight at him.
Pritam, completely oblivious, had just given her that brilliant, devastating smile. “Oh, thank you! Bohot achhi service hai aapki. Prawns mein kaunsa curry best rahega—spicy ya butter garlic?” The waitress giggled, touching his forearm lightly. “Spicy is great, but I think you’d like the butter garlic. I'll make sure your portion is extra large. And I'll add some complimentary extra fries just for you.”
“Arre wow, thank you so much!” Pritam had beamed, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners in pure, innocent appreciation. You had sat there, arms crossed, watching the entire performance. The moment she walked away, you snapped. “Extra fries, huh?”
Pritam blinked, adjusting his plaid shirt sleeve. “Haan? Bohot polite hai na? Goa ke restaurants ka hospitality culture sach mein kamaal hai.”
“Hospitality culture? Pritam, she was practically sitting in your lap!”
“Kya? N-nahi toh? She was just telling me about the prawns!” Pritam had stammered, his brain completely stalling as you refused to hold his hand for the rest of the night. The ride home was met with total silence, leaving him entirely panicked and clueless.
The next morning, the Cyber Cell office in Goa smelled like old files, damp monsoons, and the cheap cutting chai Pedro insisted on ordering every two hours.
Pritam had spent the entire morning being a total nervous wreck. He kept pacing near the water cooler, rubbing the back of his neck, until he finally slinked over to Pedro’s desk looking completely defeated. With his thick hair a bit messy from stressing all morning, he looked highly stressed.
"Sir… ek baat batao," Pritam mumbled, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Agar koi aapse achanak gussa ho jaye, bina kisi wajah ke, toh aap kya karte ho?"
Pedro didn't even look up from his newspaper. "Apni biwi se maafi maang leta hoon."
"Nahi sir, biwi nahi, bandi… matlab gussa hai woh," Pritam corrected, his face flushing red. "Par meri koi galti hi nahi hai! Kal raat ko hum dinner pe gaye the. The restaurant service was so good, the waitress even gave us extra fries. Aur yeh achanak gussa ho gayi. Pure raste baat nahi ki. Maine kiya kya hai?"
Pedro slowly lowered his newspaper, staring at Pritam’s completely clueless face. A slow smirk spread across the veteran cop's face as he realized exactly what had happened.
"Oho… toh waitress ne extra fries diye?" Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. "Tujhe lagta hai toh tera dimaag har cheez mein fast chalta hai, na? Abe gadhe, she wasn't serving you food, she was flirting with you!"
"Flirting?" Pritam’s jaw practically dropped, his eyes going wide. "Sir, nahi! Main toh bas prawns ka pooch raha tha. Mera dhyaan toh sirf ispe tha!"
"Toh jaa ke usko bol na, mujhe kya samjha raha hai," Pedro laughed, shooing him away with his pen.
Right at that moment, the afternoon sun was hitting the windows as the office door clicked open.
Pedro fsmiled wide seeing you walk in and turned towards Pritam,"Look, your problem is here. Aur haan, aaram se baat kar, mera dimaag kharab mat karna!"
You walked into the Cyber Cell wearing your favourite black kurti and jhumkas, holding a lunch dabba, heading straight toward Pritam’s desk, thinking of apologizing to him for last night. Honestly, you don't even know what came over you at that moment-you were never the one to be petty jealous. To be honest, you decided that it's Pritam's fault for being so oblivious and handsome that every girl in near vicinity falls for his nerdiness.
Before you could even reach him, Officer Sameer—the newest transfer to the department—intercepted you with an easy, polite smile, holding out his tablet.
"Hi! You must be dropping off lunch," Sameer said smoothly, stepping directly into your path and leaning against a nearby desk with casual confidence. "Hey, by the way, if you ever get lost around the old quarters on your way here, just use this offline node. Works like a charm."
Out of the corner of your eye, you felt a heavy, burning gaze lock onto you from across the room. You glanced subtly past Sameer's shoulder. Pritam was standing dead still by Pedro's desk. His eyes were narrowed into tiny slits, staring right at the two of you, his handsome features twisting into a deep, brooding scowl.
A wicked thought crossed your mind. Achha? Kal raat ko toh bohot high hospitality culture chal raha tha na? Ab dekho.
You decided it was time to teach your brilliant, oblivious boyfriend a much-needed lesson.
Instead of brushing Sameer off, you stepped a little closer into his personal space, tilting your head up and flashing your most radiant, dazzling smile.
"Wow, Sameer," you said, deliberately raising your voice so it carried beautifully across the quiet office. "That is so incredibly smart. Honestly, I get lost all the time. It is so refreshing to meet a guy who actually knows how to guide someone properly instead of just staring at screens all day."
Sameer’s eyes brightened, clearly flattered by the sudden attention. He leaned down a bit closer, tapping the screen. "Oh, it's nothing. I can actually download the custom layout for your phone right now if you want? It even highlights the best cafes nearby. Maybe I could show you one sometime?"
"Oh, really? I would absolutely love that," you purred, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear and leaning over the tablet with him. "You are way too sweet, Sameer. Seriously, you have amazing taste."
Across the room, Pritam froze mid-breath. His knuckles turned white where he was gripping the edge of Pedro's desk. With his thick hair, well-groomed beard, and rolled-up plaid shirt sleeves, he looked like a fierce, protective hero going to jump into an action scene—except his brain was experiencing a complete and total system crash.
Pedro watched the entire performance play out, suppressing a massive burst of laughter. He took a loud, slow sip of his chai and nudged Pritam hard in the ribs.
"Arre, Pritam," Pedro said, his voice dripping with faux-innocence. "Look at that boy, Sameer. Kitna helpful hai, such a gentleman. Aur teri bandi toh lagta hai baki ka lunch uske sath hi share kar legi. Naye ladke toh bohot charm wale hain aaj kal."
Pritam snapped his gaze to Pedro, his face completely flushed with a mix of panic and pure jealousy. "Kya charm sir? Kuch bhi! And his offline map protocol is totally basic. A middle schooler could code that in ten minutes, okay?!"
"Mujhe toh nahi pata, re," Pedro chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the show. "Look at her smiling at him. Kal raat ko restaurant mein toh tere pe aise nahi hans rahi thi na? Lagta hai cafe date fix ho rahi hai. Teri bandi to gaayi haat se samjho."
Seeing you laugh so beautifully at Sameer—while holding the lunch dabba meant for him—sent Pritam into absolute overdrive.
"She’s just… she's just being polite!" Pritam muttered, his voice dropping into a desperate, hurried whisper. He marched back over to his own desk, aggressively slammed himself down into his rolling chair, and started deleting random lines of code just to look occupied, though his eyes never left you.
"Haan, haan, definitely," Pedro called out loudly from across the room, adding fuel to the fire. "Bohot polite hai. Look, now he's holding the tablet for her. Bohot fast hai Sameer, very smooth!"
That was the absolute breaking point. Pritam shoved his rolling chair backward with so much force it banged loudly against the filing cabinet.
He marched right back out of his corner, his sneakers squeaking aggressively against the floor. He didn't stop until he practically threw his broad frame right between you and Sameer, completely cutting off Sameer’s view of you like a human shield.
"Pritam?" you asked, biting the absolute life out of the inside of your cheek to hide the massive smirk threatening to break across your face.
Pritam didn't even look at you yet. He locked eyes with Officer Sameer, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, looking intimidatingly broad but acting incredibly petty. "Officer Sameer. The firewall on that tablet is outdated by three patches. Agar department Wi-Fi se connect kiya na, toh pura database leak ho jayega. I’m confiscating it for security optimization."
Sameer blinked, totally bewildered by the sudden intrusion. "Uh… I just updated it this morning, Parker—"
"I am the consultant here, expert main hoon!" Pritam interrupted, his voice rising into a sharp, jealous pitch. "Mujhe pata hai optimize kaise karte hain. Do isko."
He snatched the tablet out of Sameer's hand, caught your wrist firmly with his free hand, and practically dragged you—and the lunch dabba—back toward his private corner of the office.
Pedro watched them go, shaking his head and laughing out loud. "Eh, Sameer! Bura mat maan. Iska processor thoda jaldi garam ho jata hai."
Pritam pulled you right into his desk space, put you in his rolling chair, letting go of your wrist only to take the lunch dabba and slam it onto his desk. Then he immediately placed his large hands on the armrests of your chair, completely trapping you in his little bubble. He was breathing heavily, his hair slightly messy, his dark eyes wide and burning with intense jealousy as he stared down at you.
"You're doing this on purpose," he accused in a fierce, breathless whisper, his cheeks burning a bright crimson.
"Doing what, Pritam?" you asked with total innocence, leaning back comfortably in the chair. "Just being polite to the officers who actually appreciate a good conversation? Sameer was just showing me some excellent local hospitality."
"Expert main hoon na!" he corrected, completely exasperated, his usual devastating smile fully replaced by a heavy, pouting scowl. "He doesn't even know how to bypass a secondary proxy! Aur tum uski baaton pe itna hans rahi thi? Mere proxy jokes pe toh kabhi aise nahi hansti tum!"
"Maybe because your proxy jokes end with you explaining data packets for forty minutes," you teased, reaching out casually to fix his messy collar.
Pritam deflated a little, his fierce, defensive posture instantly melting away the very second your fingers brushed against his shirt. He leaned into your touch just a fraction, his voice dropping its frantic, jealous edge and becoming soft, vulnerable, and completely earnest.
"Yaar, mujhe us waitress se koi matlab nahi tha," he mumbled, looking down at the lunch box before looking back directly into your eyes. "Maine uska chehra tak nahi dekha. I was just trying to remember if you preferred the spicy prawns or the butter garlic ones. I swear. Pura time main bas tumhe dekh raha tha. Aur tum yahan aake naye officer se cafe dates ki baatein kar rahi ho."
Your heart did a tiny, familiar flip. For a certified genius, he could be incredibly stupid, but he was your stupid genius.
"I know," you said softly, letting your hand rest against his bearded cheek, feeling the tension finally leave his shoulders. "I was just mad because you're so handsome and you don't even realize how people look at you."
Pritam blinked, his brain clearly stalling at the compliment. "Main… handsome hoon?"
"Extremely," you smiled, tracing his jawline. "But if you ever glare at a tablet like you're going to fight it again, I might have to start bringing lunch for the traffic police just to see what happens."
"Bilkul nahi," Pritam warned, a tiny, relieved smile finally breaking across his face. He leaned down, closing the remaining distance, and quickly pressed his lips to yours in a sweet, lingering kiss right there in the middle of the office.
"Oi! Romeo! Juliet!" Pedro’s voice boomed from across the room, completely shattering the moment. He was pointing at the desk. "Khana kholo re! Khushboo yahan tak aa rahi hai. Aur mere Cyber Cell mein ye sab band karo!"
Pritam jumped back, his face turning bright red all over again, while you just laughed, thoroughly satisfied with your afternoon's work.
HEYYYY GUYSSSS-SO MY SECOND TIME WRITING A FIC ON PRITAM ILOVEHIMSOMUCH THATS MY MAN
Anywaysssss pls do give a like and comment if you like it XOXO
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This is for my babygirl @cvclee. She is such a freaking talented editor; her edits on Derek have left me a little dizzy and with a blazing crush on the man, Derek D'Souza. Please check out her edits. I hope I have done him justice.
This is the 4th part of the mini-series. This is based on the character of Derek D'Souza, played by Tahir Raj Bhasin, in the movie Chhichhore (2019).
Constructive criticism appreciated. This is not beta read, so if you guys find some typos/ errors, please feel free to correct me.
Warnings: crush at first sight, fluff, angst, slow burn, Grumpy x sunshine, mutual pining, idiots in love, college romance, kiss, smoking
Happy reading....
(Part I), (Part II), (Part III)
PART IV
“Tum ek haath se ye cigarette kaise jalate ho?” She asked Derek, suddenly looking at him as he had placed a cigarette on his lips. She had her back resting on his chest. They were sitting on an abandoned plank-like bridge over a canal. This had become their secret place over the last month. Here, they had made a comfortable place for themselves, where they would talk to each other for hours with no judgment.
“It's simple, see. Aise matchstick ko apne right hand se 45-degree ke angle pe matchbox pe strike karo, and then tada” Derek showed her as he lit the cigarette.
She did not know what overcame her; she looked at the cigarette still in his hand, his index and middle finger holding it, in awe. She moved her face closer to his palm and suddenly took a puff from the cigarette in his hands. Suddenly, a bitter burning sensation filled her throat. She started coughing violently. Derek threw the cigarette aside.
“Aree tum to smoke nahi karti ye kya kiya”, Derek asked, patting her back softly. She was still coughing.
“Mujhe curiosity hui.” She finally answered, her eyes slightly teary and her throat feeling a little sore, but her cheeks were dusted with a reddish blush. They were really close; her nose was near his chin, her lips near his Adam's apple.
Derek was too concerned about her to notice the proximity; he frantically searched for the bottle of water in her bag. “God, have some water. I did not want your throat to be sore like this. I mean…”
“You look hot, Derek.”
This made him pause. He looked at her; she was looking at him with those doe eyes, soft, yet filled with so much love and passion. He noticed how close she was; his throat suddenly felt dry. What did she mean? Her cheeks were red, she was breathing heavily, it was not now she usually teased him, it felt deeper, intense, it lacked her usual humour or the teasing smile. Derek moved his palm to touch her red cheeks; they were warm. “What?”
She continued looking at him with those eyes, as she moved her palm to his pocket and felt the pack of cigarettes and brought it out. Her lips brushed against his chin, and he took a deep inhale. She brought a cigarette out and placed it on his trembling lips. His breathing quickened. She moved slowly, a little away and took the matchbox lying on the ground. She lit the match and moved it to the cigarette on his lips. As the cigarette got lit, she blew on the burning match, the soft, warm air from her lips softly caressed his cheeks, and he took a deep puff.
She continued looking at him, her eyes now hazy. “You look really hot while smoking. Taking a puff. Your eyes roll behind your head and…”
Derek’s self-control was on its last thread; he let out a, “God woman”, and got hold of the back of her neck, took another puff of his cigarette she had lit and kissed her. The bitter smoke of the intoxicant, softened by the intensity of the kiss, escaped from the tangled lips of the lovers. Derek’s hand held her head close; his grip on her long, braided hair tightened. Her hands moved from her forearms to his back and moved to his neck.
They had no clue how much time had passed, but they moved when the cigarette butt burnt his right hand, and he let out a gasp. She suddenly moved back, eyes widened with realisation. She had kissed Derek, her boyfriend, the guy she had a crush on from the first day of college. She took deep breaths, looking at the water flowing in the canal. Both of them were dazed, unsure what had taken over them. Their cheeks were dusted with the afterglow of the kiss. She was unable to look him in the eye. The sun was setting, and the sky had turned orange. Derek places his palm on hers and holds it tight in a comforting way. She was shy now, unsure if what they had done was fine, if it changed Derek’s opinion of her, or if he would think she was desperate. Thoughts clouded her mind. Derek could almost hear them. He rubbed his thumb on her palm in a soft, comforting manner.
“Tumhare pati to bhi aisei kiss kiya hain kya? Woh to oxygen generate karna bandh kardiya hoga.”
She laughed softly. Derek had made a joke, but he sounded too serious. He tried to lighten the mood. She was still looking down at the water. He placed his hand on her chin and made her look at his face. “Hey, what happened, baby?”
“Kuch nahi”
“Tumhara kuch nahi, matlab kuch hain. I love you, and you love me, right?”
“Hmm”
“’Hmm’ kya? Use your words, darling.”
“I love you”
He held her face in her hands. She was so adorable. She was bold one moment, and another, she got shy. She had heard that how women making the first move was often not seen in a good light, but here they had been dating for just a month and had kissed. Was it too soon? She was scared of Derek’s opinion about her changing, and Derek understood it better than anyone else. He loved her, he loved her boldness, her humour, her sharp tongue, her brain, her cute nose, her eyes, the sway of her hips, her dance, her laugh. He absolutely loved every bit of her being. He could absolutely not let her get self-conscious with him.
“Hain, I love you too. And I loved what we did, okay. Do not go on a spiral, thinking negatively about it. We did nothing wrong, okay. Yeah, it would have been better if I had asked for your consent verbally, but you leaned in, so I went with it. Tum ise overthink nahi karogi okay? We kissed because we love each other; it’s a physical expression of our love.”
This moved her to tears. They had been dating for a month, just a month, but he probably understood her better than anyone ever had. He listened to her, he looked at her, he understood her. Not just the smile she showed, but the depth she carried. Her outspoken nature did not trouble him; it made him fall for her even more. He never dismissed her fears and insecurities but tried to understand her and be there for her. Her overthinking, often dismissed even by her, was taken into account by Derek; he heard it and understood it. He would never let her doubt herself. He was not perfect by any means, but he valued her over all other things.
“Aree, baby, why are you crying? Okay, we will not do it ever again if it makes you uncomfortable”
“Buddhu ho tum. Itne pyaare kyu ho?” She hugged him tight, her heart overflowing with love for him.
“Tumhe hi lagta hain main pyara hu.” He soothed the hair on her head, which had gotten messed up.
“Bakiyon se mu phula ke baatein karoge to aisa hi hoga na. Ache se bhi baat kar sakte ho.”
“Ache se hi baat karta hu, per tumse jaise pyaar se baat karta hu unse nahi karta na”
“Thank god, agar Sexa ko tumse pyaar hojata to kya hota mera.” She was back again with her teasing. Derek felt lighter, softer.
He held her arms and moved her to look at her. “Sexa? Seriously?”
“Maybe, Ani too. Tumne kabhi notice nah kiya how they look at you when you stand and smoke shirtless on your balcony?” She smiled as if revealing a secret.
“Tumne bara notice kiya hain? Waise kaisa lagta hu”
“Thore se kharoos and serious, but very hot”
“Hain? Phir isi baat ke ek aur…”
“Badam doodh?” She interrupted.
“Nahi yaar. Per okay, badam doodh hi sahi. Kal library mein mile?”
“Tumhe GC ke liya sab finalise karliya na, it's like in a week?”
“Almost done, baby.”
“Is baar to mera boyfriend hi jeetega.”
“Apne pati ko bataya hain mere bare mein?”
“Derek, stop. Ye joke bohot zaada hoagaya hain.”
“Kya karu har kisi ka sauten ped thori hota hain.” Derek smirked at her. Oh, how he loved seeing her like this, a little angry.
“Very funny”
“I know.” He placed a kiss on her cheeks as he stood up and held his palm out for her, helping her stand.
(Part V)
(PS: Guys ye kiss likhne likhte paseene choot gaye mere.. pata nahi kya hi likha hain.. bhul chuk maaf kardena.. I hope mere kisi bhi gharwalo ko ye na mile.. mera mard ka chakkar maut se takkar wala aura negative mein chala jayega)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on Rajkumar Hirani and Avinadh Arun's series Pritam and Pedro. All Original characters belong to them with exception of Y/N. This is made for entertainment purpose only.
Warnings: Bad writing😭
A/N: Been through the Writer's block for a while now so this might be shit. Read at your own risk😭
If there was one thing Pedro Gonsalves hated more than paperwork, it was rich people with smart homes.
The victim's villa overlooked the beautiful stretch of goan sea, all white walls, glass windows and expensive automation. Every light and electronics could be controlled through an app, every door had biometric locks, all the cameras uploaded footage to the cloud every 24 hours.
Which would've been impressive...if only the owner wasn't found dead inside the house and somebody hadn't wiped every second of security footage.
"Sir, the local CCTV DVR is clean. Whoever did this deleted everything." Jayant, approached Pedro with a tablet.
Pedro nodded towards the man sitting cross legged on the floor with three laptops open around him,"Usko dikhao."
The inspector hesitated,"Him?"
"Haan, usi ko."
Pritam Parker looked up from his laptop with an easy smile,"Good morning, Jayant sir."
The inspector looked at Pedro again,"Sir...?"
Pedro rolled his eyes,"Don't just stand here, dikhao Usko.. yeh sab cyber-wyber walo ka kaam hai."
Jayant gave him a look as he handed the DVR to Pritam,"...Sir aap bhi toh cyber waale hi ho-"
Pedro glared at Jayant so hard that Jayant decided it was best for him to just walk away from the scene.
Meanwhile,Pritam plugged another cable into the DVR.
"Interesting..."
Pedro looked over his shoulder,"Kya?"
"The killer deleted the footage."
"Haan-."
"But sirf delete nahi kiya"He enlarged a log on the screen.
"Dekho. Camera recordings gayi. Door lock logs gaye. Motion sensor history gayi."
Pedro frowned,"So?"
"So agar koi normal hacker hota, poora system uda deta."
"Hmm."
"Yeh banda selective tha."He tapped the screen,"Usse pata tha exactly kya delete karna hai."
The room grew quieter around them.
Even the investigating officer leaned closer, "So according to you...yeh murder tha?" he asked.
Pritam shrugged,"Murder tha ya nahi ...yeh toh aap log bataoge."
He looked toward the staircase,"Main bas itna bol raha hoon... jisne system hack kiya, usse crime scene ki kahani change karni thi."
Pedro had worked with Pritam long enough to know that whenever he started spewing a lot of information....he had noticed something.
"The body?" Pedro asked.
"Study." The investigating officer said.
The three of them walked upstairs.
The victim lay slumped on chair behind a massive teak desk, one hand stretched on the table while the other on the side. Blood stained the polished wooden floor, the edge of the carpet and one side of the wall.
Pritam didn't go near the body.
Instead, he slowly walked around the room.
His eyes moved from the wall...to the desk....to the small blood droplets on the bookshelf....then back to the body.
"Huh."
Pedro folded his arms."Kya hua?"
"I don't know."
"So helpful."
"I'm serious."
Pritam pointed towards the wall,"Mujhe forensic nahi aati, lekin agar body yahan mili hai..."
He pointed to the floor."...toh blood udhar itna zyada kyun hai?"
Pedro looked.
The blood spatter behind the desk looked unusually dense.The body, however, was metres away.
The inspector spoke first."Victim ne jab gun chalai, tab movement ke wajah se shayad blood waha gir gaya ho-."
"Ho sakta hai," Pedro admitted, nodding to the officer."But..."
"But?"
"I'd like someone who actually understands blood patterns to tell me I'm wrong."
The officer nodded once,"Fair."
Pedro pulled out his phone,"Ek expert ko bulata hoon. Then we will have all the answers."
The investigating officer nodded in approval and went to interrogate the others presnt in the house.
---
Pritam smirked,"Who are you calling, sir? Crime Branch ke Sherlock Holmes ko?"
"Nahi."
"Senior doctor friend of yours then?"
"Nahi."
"Toh?"
Pedro smiled faintly, "meri saali sahiba ko"
The phone rang once,"Haan Pedro bhai?"
"Aa sakti ho?"
"Case?"
"Murder."
"Fresh?"
"Teen ghante."
"Location bhejo."
The line disconnected.
---
Nearly fifteen minutes later, the soft puttering of a scooter drifted through the open front door.
A pastel blue scooter rolled neatly between two police vehicles.
The rider removed her helmet, hooked it over the handlebar and lifted a black forensic case from the footboard before walking towards the house.
Pritam happened to glance outside.
Then froze,"...Nahi."
She climbed the front steps, looked up and stopped walking.
For two whole seconds...neither of them spoke.
Then- "TUM?!"
Her voice echoed through the hallway.
Pritam pointed at her in disbelief, "TUM?!"
Every head in the room turned.
Pedro looked from one to the other.
"...Ek minute."
Y/N recovered first. She looked at Pedro.
"Bhaoji..."
"Haan...?"
"Yeh yahan kya kar raha hai?!"
At exactly the same time-
Pritam threw both hands into the air.
"Nahi, pehle yeh batao, YEH yahan kya kar rahi hai?"
Pedro frowned,"...Tum dono ek dusre ko jaante ho?"
Both answered without missing a beat.
"YEH SCAMMER HAI!" "Itni fussy customer maine zindagi mein nahi dekhi!"
Silence.
A constable quietly lowered the evidence marker in his hand. The crime scene photographer stopped clicking pictures.
Someone in the back whispered,"Sir... lagta hai doosra murder hone wala hai."
Pedro looked utterly confused.
"Scammer?"..."fussy customer..?"
Y/N folded her arms,"Isne mujhe vacuum cleaner becha."
Pedro looked at Pritam,"...Tum vacuum cleaner bechte ho?"
"Haa bola toh tha apko, Part-time karta hoon"
She continued as if he hadn't spoken,"Do saal ki warranty bolke becha."
"Haan toh thi na do saal ki warranty-"
"Teen din mein kharab ho gaya woh khatara!"
"Company ki problem hai!"
"Main ek hafte se customer care ko phone kar rahi hoon!"
"Main bhi kar raha hoon!"
She stared,"...Tum...bhi call kar rahe ho?"
"Haan, and they don't pick my calls either!"
Pedro rubbed his forehead,"Ek minute...Wait-"
Neither of them stopped.
"Tumne bola tha doorstep service!"
"Maine bola tha company degi!"
"Tum company hi toh ho!"
"Main salesman hu!"
"Mujhe farak nahi padta!"
"Mujhe padta hai!"
"Scammer!"
"Impossible customer!"
Pedro suddenly clapped his hands.
The sharp sound cut through the argument.
"Bas!"
Both fell silent.
Pedro pointed towards the house,"Yaad hai hum yahan kyun aaye hain?"
Neither answered.
"Murder. Vacuum cleaner ka consumer court baad mein laga lena."
A few officers coughed suspiciously to hide their laughter.
Pedro sighed,"Tum dono ke jo bhi personal issues hai, woh iss crime scene ke bahar rahenge."
He turned to Y/N,"Tum study mein jaake body dekh lo."
Then to Pritam,"Aur tu... please paanch minute ke liye chup rehna."
Pritam held up both hands,"Theek hai."
Y/N shot him one last glare before walking up to the study.
Pritam and Pedro followed and saw her kneeling beside the victim. In one smooth motion she tied back her hair, slipped on a fresh pair of gloves and opened her forensic kit.
The irritation disappeared from her face and turned into ultra sharp focus.
She examined the blood on the floor first, then the wall, then the victim's hands.
Pritam, who had every intention of looking away, found himself watching instead.
Five minutes ago she'd been calling him a scamner and now she was completely absorbed in a murder scene.
Pedro caught him staring,"Kya?"
"Nothing."
Pritam looked back at Y/N as she quietly measured the angle of the bloodstains,"...Bas soch raha hoon."
"Kya..soch raha hai?"
Pritam didn't answer Pedro, and instead kept looking at her for a second too long.
The anger from the earlier argument with him was still there, faintly visible in the set of her jaw, but it no longer ruled her face. That had happened the moment she opened her forensic kit. It was like someone had turned a key inside her and switched her from annoyed customer into a professional woman with far more important things to do.
Pritam found that a little unfair.
People who could do that should not also have such sharp beautiful eyes....wait...beautiful what? What was he even thinking!?
Pritam shook his head to get rid of those thoughts and continued watching her work.
The investigating officer, on the other hand, was too impatient for silence. He had already decided the shape of the case in his head, and his mind kept trying to force the case to fit that shape. Suicide. Locked room. Gun in hand. No visible intruder. It was neat. Tidy. Almost comforting. Men like him always loved a neat theory; it meant the world could still be explained by the things they already knew.
Y/N asked for a flashlight and a ruler. One of the constables handed them over immediately. Pritam did not miss the fact that she barely looked up when she took the ruler. That should not have bothered him. It was not as though they were friends. It was not as though they’d shared anything beyond one horribly memorable vacuum cleaner transaction and one very public argument over customer care. But still, some part of him had expected her to acknowledge him. Some part of him wanted to see her eyes on him.
She did not even glance in his direction.
And that, somehow, bothered him more than it should have.
She measured the angle of the blood spray against the wall, then the height of the chair, then the distance between the body and the desk. Her lips pressed together in thought.
“This is not a simple self inflicted shot,”she said as she stood up.
The officer frowned. “Ma’am, gun toh uske haath ke paas thi.”
She nodded once, as if that didn’t matter much at all,“Gun haath ke paas rakh dene se suicide nahi ban jaata.”
She walked behind the chair, careful not to disturb the evidence markers. The back spatter was there, as Pedro and Pritam had already noticed, but under her gaze it became something more precise.
“There’s too much blood on the wall behind the desk,” she murmured.
The officer blinked. “Gunshot ki wajah se?”
“Gunshot ki wajah se blood aata hai,” she replied, “par pattern alag hota hai.”
She glanced at the victim’s shoulder next, and then at the position of the chair. Her fingers hovered over the fabric of the backrest without touching it.
“This body was moved,” she said.
That actually pulled Pedro’s attention in more sharply.
“Moved?”
She nodded. “Haan. SIGSW ke cases mein body ki postion iss se different hoti hai. Jis position mein yeh mila, uske hisaab se iss particular angle mein, woh bhi itne pass se goli chalana is almost impossible.”
She pointed once, briefly, toward the floor behind the desk. “From my theory, primary blood loss yahan hua. Phir body ko utha ke is chair mein settle kiya gaya.”
The officer opened his mouth, likely to argue out of habit, but Y/N kept going before he could get there.“Also,look at the wound angle.”
She gestured to the victim’s hand and then to the revolver.
“Self-inflicted shot mein, specially for the side of the temple, the bullet should have a exit wound kyuki bohot pass se goli chalti hai. But I can't see any visible exit wounds here. And even the grip on the gun looks awkward."
Pedro stared at the victim’s hand.
It suddenly looked less like evidence and more like a prop.
Pritam tilted his head. He wasn’t pretending to understand the forensic details, but he understood enough to know when a scene was being dismantled piece by piece.
The officer finally asked, “Toh aap keh rahi hain ye murder hai?”
"Yes. But if you still want, you can wait for the PM report. I'll tell Dr. Tejas to fastrack it.” she said.
The investigating officer nodded and left to question the rest of the staff. Somewhere downstairs, someone was talking too loudly about cold chai, probably Dhattatrey. Pedro stayed where he was for a second, looking at the body, then at Y/N, then at Pritam, who had quietly gone back to his laptop.
This was gonna be a long one. Hopefully, once the case is done DIG sir would finally look into transferring him back to the crime cell.
---
The next few days slipped into a rhythm none of them had planned.
The murder investigation grew larger with every passing hour. Witnesses changed statements, forensic reports trickled in one after another, and Pritam spent most of his day buried behind glowing laptop screens while Y/N disappeared between the crime branch forensic lab and cyber cell carrying evidence files from one wing of the station to another.
Which meant they kept running into each other, not intentionally, of course not. Just... constantly.
The first few times, Y/N still looked at him with open suspicion.
She'd hand Pedro or Sherlyn a report, notice Pritam sitting beside them, and narrow her eyes ever so slightly and mutter,"I see the scammer is still here."
Pritam would sigh dramatically without looking up from his laptop,"Good morning to you too, Doctor Sahiba."
Pedro, already halfway through reading the report, would wave a dismissive hand.
"Arre bas bhi karo tum dono. Waise bhi Pritam jo bolta hai, ninety-nine percent sahi hota hai."
Y/N wasn't convinced.
"Haan haan. Mr. Genius hacker. Vacuum cleaner toh phir bhi kharab hi nikla."
Pritam pressed a hand to his chest as if she'd mortally wounded him.
"Theek hai. Main zindagi bhar uss vacuum cleaner ke liye taane sun lunga, just dont look at me like that."
She fought a smile.
Fought.
Unfortunately, she lost.
It lasted barely a second before she looked away, pretending to read her report instead.
Pritam noticed anyway, and it made his heart race. It was definitely because he was sitting infront of the laptop for hours...ofc it was, what else could it be?
---
As the investigation progressed, so did their partnership.
Pritam would recover deleted files and quietly slide his laptop towards her.
Y/N would skim through them, point out which timestamps actually mattered, and save him hours of chasing useless leads.
He stopped seeing her as the woman who had nearly dragged him to consumer court weeks ago.
But now, she has become the person who noticed details everyone else walked past, the way she'd absent-mindedly tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear while thinking, the tiny crease that appeared between her brows whenever something didn't make sense, the excitement in her eyes whenever science proved someone wrong.
He found it unfair.
She was already beautiful. Did she really have to be brilliant too?
Somewhere between reconstructed timelines and post-mortem reports, he caught himself waiting for the sound of a scooter in the cyber cell parking lot every morning.
He never admitted it. Not even to himself.
Y/N, meanwhile, found her opinion of him changing against her own wishes.
He was infuriating, ridiculously dramatic, hopelessly messy.
His temporary desk at the cyber cell looked like a coffee shop had exploded on it.
And yet...he never took credit for anyone else's work.(Unlike some people, *coughcough*Dhaatarey😑*coughcough*)
Whenever someone praised him, he was the first to say, "Forensics se confirm aya tha, Dr.Tejas did most of the work." or, "Maine nahi, Dr. Y/N aur Pedro sir ne yeh information nikala" , he thanked constables by name, he remembered to ask the canteen uncle about his daughter's exams.
One afternoon she watched him spend nearly fifteen minutes helping an elderly woman unlock her phone before returning to the murder case without a hint of irritation.
She blinked,"...Tum sabke saath aise hi ho?"
Pritam looked up."Kaisa?"
"...Achhe."
He smiled, "Maybe you're the good person between the two of us, isliye sabme acchai dikhti hai."
She looked away before he could see the smile threatening to escape,"haan haan woh toh usi din pata chal gaya tha jis din you sold me that useless vaccum cleaner"
"aree yaar...app-", he was about to defend himself again when he noticed the playful smile on her face, and abruptly stopped, looking away as he felt that familiar rush of weird warmth spreading in his chest.
Y/N only giggled, maybe he wasn't a scammer.
Maybe he was just a terrible salesman.
There was a difference.
---
Pedro noticed none of it.
Not the way Pritam automatically saved the chair beside him whenever Y/N was expected.
Not the way Y/N unconsciously walked over to his desk instead of calling him across the room.
Not the way their arguments had become lighter, softer, ending more often in laughter than frustration.
To Pedro, they were simply doing what good investigators did.
Working well together.
He had no idea that somewhere between murder files, forensic reports and deleted server logs...his apprentice had quietly started falling for his sister in law.
And his saali sahiba, despite every promise she'd made to herself after buying that terrible vacuum cleaner...was beginning to look forward to seeing the salesman every morning.
---
The breakthrough in the case arrived on a Tuesday afternoon.
With three people quietly doing what they did best.
Pritam had spent the better part of two days rebuilding deleted fragments from the villa's smart home network. Most of it was useless, failed login attempts, corrupted backups and incomplete logs but buried beneath thousands of lines of recovered data was one anomaly he couldn't explain.
A phone, one that wasn't registered to anyone living in the house, it had connected to the villa's WiFi dozens of times over the last three months, always in the late afternoon, always after the victim's wife was at work.
He missed it before because it had never appeared in the guest access logs because someone had manually authorised it through the owner's phone.
Pedro frowned at the screen.
"...Affair."
Pritam nodded slowly,"I think so."
Y/N, who had been comparing the victim's call records with the post mortem timeline, quietly placed another file beside them,"It fits."
Both men looked at her
"The victim had traces of a second person's perfume on his shirt collar. I ignored it initially because I thought it belonged to his wife.", She opened the report,"It doesn't."
Pedro's eyes narrowed.
"The wife doesn't use that brand."
Y/N shook her head.
"And before you ask..."She turned another page,"...we recovered a thin auburn hair from his cuff that some idiot didn’t send it for testing thinking its dog fur"
Pedro blinked,"Dhattatrey..."
"Who else" Y/N added sighing.
Silence settled over the table.
Pritam looked at the recovered WiFi logs again, Pedro looked at the witness statements, Y/N looked at the forensic report.
Sherlyn said, " could it be the assistant?"
"No...she has long black hair" Pedro murmured.
"The interior designer?" Pritam guessed.
Y/N slowly looked up," nuh uh, it has to be the event planner lady...she was crying a lottle too much...for a client's..death."
The room went quiet.
Pedro grabbed the witness statements again.
The event planner.
A woman who claimed she had visited the villa only twice.
A woman who had cried convincingly during questioning.
A woman whose phone number...
Pritam's fingers flew over the keyboard.
"...Found her."
Pedro leaned closer.
The recovered WiFi MAC address matched a phone registered under another name.
One that belonged to the victim's "freelance event consultant."
Except...The call records showed nearly three hundred conversations over six months.
She wasn't his consultant. She was his mistress.
And on the afternoon of the murder...
She had been inside the villa.
Not only that, The smart irrigation controller in the garden had unknowingly logged movement near the rear exit nearly twenty minutes after the supposed time of suicide.
Exactly enough time to stage the room.
Pedro slowly smiled,"Chalo."
---
The arrest happened before sunset.
She tried to deny everything.
Then she tried blaming the wife.
Then she claimed the victim had become violent.
But the evidence refused to cooperate with her story.
The digital trail.
The bloodstain reconstruction.
The staged crime scene.
The bruising.
The recovered messages Pritam managed to restore from cloud fragments.
By the time Pedro placed the handcuffs around her wrists, the case had already been solved.
Back at headquarters, the atmosphere felt noticeably lighter.
The DIG himself walked out of his office carrying the completed file.
"I'll admit," he said, looking around the room, "initial report dekh ke mujhe bhi suicide hi laga tha."
Pedro scratched the back of his neck.
"Sir..."
The DIG smiled,"Good work, Gonsalves."
His gaze shifted to Pritam,"Especially you young man, good job."
Then to Y/N,"And Doctor L/N, excellent forensic observations as always."
She nodded politely,"Thank you, sir."
Pedro cleared his throat,"...Sir, ek chhoti si request thi."
The DIG sighed dramatically,"Mujhe pata tha."
"Crime Branch..."
The older man laughed,"Ek case solve karke transfer thodi mil jaata hai, Pedro."
Pedro sighed.
"But..."
Pedro straightened.
"...solve a few more like this."
He closed the case file with a firm clap.
"I'll personally recommend your transfer to the DGP."
Pedro's face lit up like a child on Christmas morning,"Thank you, sir!"
The DIG pointed toward the door,"Ab jao."
"Sir?"
"Celebrate."
---
An hour later, they found themselves at a tiny beach shack overlooking the sea, Pedro called his wife over to join the celebration.
The shack had fresh seafood, soft music drifting lazily through the salty breeze.
Pedro insisted on paying.
Stacey rolled her eyes and quietly paid the bill before he could.
Nobody mentioned it.
Y/N narrated the whole story to her sister animatedly, the case became a funny story halfway through dinner.
"So..." Stacey looked at Pritam,"Vacuum cleaner ka kya hua?"
Pritam raised his hands up in a mock surrender, "Maine manager se baat kar li hai...they will replace it by next week."
Y/N smirked,"See? Consistencey is key." Everyone laughed, Pritam stared at Y/N laughing, carefree and so at ease. God this woman would be the death of him.
Pedro shrugged and went back to arguing with Stacey about who had cheated at cards the previous weekend.
Completely oblivious.
By the time they left, the roads had emptied.
The sea breeze had turned cooler.
Y/N reached for her scooter keys before remembering...
"...Workshop."
She sighed,"I forgot."
Pritam jingled his bike keys,"Lucky for you..."
She looked at him.
"...main available hoon."
She rolled her eyes, but sat down anyway.
The ride home was quieter, comfortable.
The city lights slowly gave way to quieter residential lanes until he finally stopped outside her gate.
Neither moved.
Neither seemed particularly eager to end the evening.
Y/N removed the helmet and handed it back,"Thanks."
He took it carefully,"No problem."
Another silence. Longer this time.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
She watched him with growing amusement.
He looked...Nervous.
The same man who could dismantle encrypted servers without blinking suddenly couldn't seem to look her in the eye.
Finally, he laughed awkwardly."Main..."
"Hmm?"
"...ek baat poochun?"
"Poocho."
He took a deep breath.
"I know tum abhi bhi mujhe kabhi kabhi scammer samajhti ho..."
She smiled "I do."
"...lekin..."
He looked everywhere except at her.
"...would you... umm...maybe... kabhi... mere saath bahar chalogi?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Which, for approximately four of the longest seconds of Pritam Parker's life, felt exactly like rejection.
"Oh."
He smiled sheepishly.
"It's okay. You don't have to say yes-Main bas-"
She stepped closer.
Close enough that he forgot what sentence he had been trying to finish.
There was that familiar little crease between her brows.
Except this time...
She wasn't thinking about blood patterns.
Or forensic reports.
Or murder.
She was looking at him.
"You know," she said softly, "for someone who's supposed to be a genius..."
He blinked.
"...you're surprisingly slow."
Before he could ask what she meant, she reached up, gently took hold of the front of his jacket...
...and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.
It lasted barely a heartbeat.
When she stepped back, his expression was somewhere between complete astonishment and total system failure.
She smiled, a small, mysterious smile he'd come to recognize over the course of the investigation.
"I think," he said, as she turned towards her gate, "that's a yes."
She disappeared inside before he could recover enough brain cells to go after her and he remained exactly where he was.
Helmet still in one hand, keys in the other.
Smiling like an absolute idiot beneath the porch light.
Somewhere inside the house, Y/N leaned against the closed door, unable to stop smiling herself.
Perhaps buying that terrible vacuum cleaner hadn't been such a bad investment after all.
Why does long blud always find himself caged against a wall and then can't get out because he doesn't know how to move his limbs 😭😭😭😭
Look at him struggle please. He looks like he is trying to cross a water-logged street in Andheri to get to office 💀
He is so painfully awkward. Textbook introvert behaviour at loud parties. Boi is trying to shrink into a paper-towel. He looks low-key horrified at the boisterous dancing 🤡
I AM FADING AT THE SLOW PAN FROM THE DANCING CROWD TO HIM STANDING , LOOKING MORTIFIED,NOT KNOWING WHAT TO DO WITH HIS LIMBS 😭😭😭
And he wore that plain ass fit to an engagement party 🥲
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