Want Pizza?

She smiled cheerfully. Like when you see a lotus blossom in time lapse. The silent transformation beholds you for a moment.  It’s almost ethereal. A smile that makes you smile; something you don’t want ever let go. And there is this instinctive realization. What if this is my cue? She sat with her arms crossed round her legs. The white top she wore had a hand-embroidered pink swan sewn in the middle. It looked as if the swan mocked me. Its beak bickering the words aloud:-

‘I am here. You are there!’

I was sitting next to her. Our pizza had finished fifteen minutes ago. All we did since then was mix the oregano and chilli sachets in coke and chug it. She laughed every time I burped! I inched closer to her. She didn’t notice. There was something about that moment. I was bound by her presence alone. If there was anything distracting, it was her hair shampoo. They always wear the same-Sunsilk! I tried to mask the intensity of my situation. I couldn’t! My face was a hue of cosmic red and orange. She sat still. Her head buried in her arms. I dragged myself closer to her. My face almost kissing the strand of her hair that flew aimlessly. I could see the mole on her left arm. I touched it gently. She lifted her head and stared at me.

‘Is that contagious?’ I asked and she slapped me playfully. She shifted her side and looked at me. Our eyes locked and for an instant, I thought this was it. I took the chance and leaned forward to kiss her. She moved away from me, the wide grin on her face mischievously playful. I grasped her hand and pulled back. She slammed hard against my body. Her hair covered the nose and her eyes. My left eye flickered in anticipation on what should I do next? Should I remover the hair or… and I had my ’20 seconds of encouragement’. I leaned in and kissed her. My lips traced hers in rhythm with my arms around her waist. She went numb for a second and my heart skipped a beat.

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I could feel her lips moving in synchronisation with mine. They weren’t strawberry. I was glad. I hate it. I slowly moved my arms up her top. It didn’t need Einstein to learn how to unhook a bra. But I was lucky. She wasn’t wearing any! That was the moment when she felt the bulge. I cringed back. She smiled almost as if she was proud. And with that smile, I knew what I had to do next.

🙂

Kartik Dulloo

Growth Hacker | E&C Engineer | Spell-Bee Runner up | Part Grammar Nazi, Part Grammar Hippy | Failing Anglophile

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