The rain stopped by the time late afternoon rolled around. In spite of her best efforts, Madhu couldn't concentrate on her task anymore. The fact that hunger was gnawing at her didn't help either. The lone parantha had been digested hours ago and she needed some fuel.

Even though the skies had cleared, Madhu didn't expect Champa to walk through the swamps the roads had turned into. So she ended up preparing four packets of Maggi they had stocked up. The characteristic smell of its spices filled the kitchen and the hallway, drawing Nakul from her grandfather's old study.

He didn't say anything, just washed his hands and started chopping a couple of capsicums and onions. It took him about half an hour to finish slicing the veggies into weird, uneven chunks. But if Madhu was being honest with herself, she would've done a far worse job.

"Is that enough?" she asked when he poured just one spoon of oil in the pan to cook the veggies.

"I think so."

It wasn't enough. With the flame high and less oil, the skins of the onions stuck to the pan, turning dark brown instead of golden. The capsicums were okay though, just a little raw. Adding the unevenly cooked vegetables to the Maggi and then dumping the entire thing on two plates, they sat across each other, inhaling the food.

"I haven't had this much junk since my college days," Madhu said in between slurping the noodles.

"My college had the best mess, so I can't relate."

"Show off."

"Do you want to visit Lucknow? After Dussehra?" he asked out of the blue, making her pause mid-noodle.

"Lucknow? Why?"

"I'm meeting some investors, for the generator. Could use some of your expertise for the business side of things. Plus, it'll also be a change of scene for you."

It was a logic Madhu found no flaws with, so she agreed. Finishing their meal and washing their plates, they both returned to work. Well fed, Madhu found it easier to concentrate and soon finished with the structure of the idol's legs, moving on to tackle a separate heap of clay, preparing it for the torso.

When the spare table proved too small, she turned over the gardening trolley, making half of the clay fall on the old newspaper that she had spread on the floor, before getting to her knees to start kneading it.

"Can I help you in anyway?" said a voice above her, startling her. "The field is still flooded so I can't go to the workshop."

Craning her neck while straddling a clay mound on the floor, the one she was attempting to flatten with a huge rolling pin, Madhu was highly aware of her likeliness to a tornado. Her palms were covered in wet mud, hair up in an untidy bun from which escaped wiry strands that stuck to her sweaty forehead, and cheeks that probably looked flush with exertion. Not to mention her originally white kurta that had taken on a lot of the floor's grime.

She had forgotten to lock the door before preparing to knead the clay, something her teenage self always made sure of. Madhu hated people seeing her getting messy, even when it was for the sake of art. Especially when it was for the sake of art. 

It didn't help that Nakul was looking as if he was fresh out of a commercial, complete with his all black outfit. He crouched down till he was at level with her, face merely inches away from hers. "Do you need help with that?"

It took all of Madhu's self-control to not stumble on her words as she quipped, "Depends. Can you knead something heavier than an entire sack of flour in one go?"

"I think I can manage."

"And," she continued. "This is not going to end up in burnt, misshapen paranthas. It has to be perfect and pebble free."

His mouth curled up. "Are you making fun of my cooking skills Miss Thakur?"

"Why yes I am."

"Well," he said, sitting down cross-legged in front of her and folding his sleeves till his elbows. "I suppose I would do a better job than someone who can't make anything apart from instant noodles."

He took the rolling pin, motioning for her to scoot away. She returned to her previously vacant stool, smoothing the half-made sculpture and detailing the toes and anklets of the statue using sculpting knives and styluses.

Regardless of what he had claimed, Nakul couldn't really knead the entire mound at once. Instead, he broke it into four smaller parts, but Madhu didn't point that out.

With him providing little chunks of readied clay, Madhu slowly attached the clay to the idol's hip, going up and shaping its waist and torso. After a couple of hours, she heard shuffling behind her as Nakul got up from the ground, coming around and occupying the stool next to her.

Madhu had expected him to go back to the study after he was finished, but he simply watched her. While her sculpting teacher had also sometimes stayed next to her to observe her technique, she had a feeling that Nakul's reasons were different.

"What?" she questioned eventually, too on edge to work with him beside her.

"Nothing it's just, I never pegged you as a person interested in art, even when we were kids."

Madhulika knew what he meant. Her mother had tried every method in the book to get Madhu interested in painting. Even going as far as painting her room's ceiling. But the seven-year-old never so much as touched a brush until years later.

"It's a silly story really. This guy I liked in eighth grade opted for a sculpting extracurricular class in school. I wanted to take up dance because all my friends were there, but I ended up changing my mind. Couldn't really get the guy to even glance at me but I fell in love with this in the process," she said, referring to the murti. "Ma was happy."

"Man he must've been an idiot." Madhu's heart skipped a beat at his casual tone. Thankfully, he didn't notice her expression. "But I'm glad you re-picked sculpting. Your mom would've been proud today too."

"You don't know that," she muttered. "I've done a lot of stupid shit these last years."

"True. But since you've come here, all I see is a person doing her best to help people around her."

Madhu bit her cheek. That was the perfect moment to tell him. She wanted to correct his presumption, clarify that all her actions were nothing but compensation. That she would sell her land and with it, the futures of everyone dependent on it. But something clamped down her throat, trapping the truth in.

"I hate being deaf," Nakul blurted, not noticing her turmoil.

"Nakoo--"

"I want to hear your words, not just see them. And not the fucking squeak that this aid makes me hear but like, your real voice."

She let out a hollow chuckle. "My voice hasn't changed much you know? It's still high pitched and annoying. You're better off without it."

"You're stupid."

"Excuse me?"

He shifted close enough that their knees bumped, and Madhu forgot how to breathe. "You're stupid if you think you're capable of making a sound I wouldn't want to hear."

Right then, she wanted to eliminate the distance between them. She didn't bother analysing if what he said had just been a pick-up line or something more genuine. It could be either or a mix of both. She didn't care.

Nakul moved back though, and she straightened up, her cheeks burning.

"I'll go lay out dinner," he muttered, walking out.

She waited for a few minutes before leaving the room herself. Making a beeline for the bathroom, she washed her hands, feet, arms, face; trying to wash her mind even. This was Nakul. She could never be with him, never fuck him up like she did everyone else.

Combing through her hair and then tying it in a top knot, Madhu resolved to not let whatever moment they had affect her. His life was here. Hers in Delhi. She could not forget that.

For his part, Nakul acted casual when she stepped in the dining room. Too casual. He even made a show of trying to toss the parantha like it was a pancake, before switching off the gas and coming to sit with her.

Madhu smiled. This was normal.

"So what kind of investors are these people? The ones you need to meet?" she asked while tearing a piece of parantha and dipping it in curd.

"Um friends of mine from school. They already own metalwork factories and are looking to diversify. Truth be told, I think they're doing me a favour but I'm not complaining."

"How much would you need?"

"Right now? Only enough to cover the cost of my patent, would get it anytime soon now, we filed it months ago. After that I can approach a bank to secure a loan. I could've dipped into my savings, but I need it for down payment for the land I'm buying from Sunanda's father in Lucknow, so as to start a small manufacturing unit." Reaching out, he sprinkled salt in his curd. "Bhabra is going to be the first place to benefit from that generator, if all goes well that is."

"I can help if you want?" Madhu offered cautiously, afraid that she might offend him. But he only nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind."

Having finished eating, they moved to the sink to scrub their plates.

"Sorry," Nakul mumbled when her elbow bumped his.

Something clicked inside her, making Madhu put her half-cleaned plate down, take his from him and placing it in the sink too. Numb and not really thinking about what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around his neck. It was instinct. It had to be when all she could really hear was the thumping in her chest.

His gaze was locked on her. Not on her mouth but her eyes. She hesitated a little, but when he inched closer, she rose to her toes, meeting him halfway through in the tiniest possible brush against his lips.

If he was still before, he was frozen now. Feeling him stiffen, Madhu pulled back, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I..." She started to take a step back.

"No!"

Before she could get far, he coiled his arms around her, pressing her flush against him and claiming her lips.

Warmth travelled down her body as goose bumps pimpled her skin. Every part he touched felt like it was ready to combust. Madhu didn't know how, but she somehow found herself trapped between the counter and him, and there was no other place she would rather be in.

One hand removed her hair clutcher, fisting the dark tresses that came tumbling down. Another hand remained firmly around her waist as if afraid of letting go. She shared that sentiment and pulled him impossibly closer.

Releasing her lips, his mouth moved to her jaw, leaving feather-light kisses in its wake, marking every spot.

"Nakul..."

"Yeah?" he hummed against her throat.

She forgot what she had to say when he nibbled her neck, before hoisting her up and sweeping her off her feet. Literally.

Madhulika didn't stop him when he carried her to his room, didn't stop him when he shut the door by kissing her against it, didn't stop him from getting as close as he could.

"Are you sure?" Nakul breathed when she started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Very."

He didn't need further confirmation to guide her to bed.

So much for being normal. 

LOL what is with me and the number 20? Like even in CTIADDT the big smooch happened in chapter 20. Is this a pattern? Idk.