"Will you play with me?"

🌀

Vivaan let out an anguished growl. She was back and he hated it. She acted like she loved him but he knew better. She was here to get everything he had. She was here to take away his father's company from him or else why would she come home one week earlier?

Terrifying thoughts swarmed his mind, engulfing his whole existence in a dark, pitless abyss; hard to escape.

Suddenly, he felt a tug on his sleeve. He looked up angrily but soon his face softened. A kid of age four or five was standing in front him, shyly. He was wearing a blue dress with a cute bear printed on it and a red short. His curly hairs were falling over his forehead. The kid offered Vivaan a shy smile. Vivaan gave him a bright, genuine smile.

He pulled the kid towards him and asked, "What's your name?"

"Ayush," he answered, shortly.

"Where are your parents?"

The kid pointed to a house near the park. Vivaan understood that he lived there.

"What are you playing?" Vivaan inquired, though he perfectly knew the answer, seeing the stumps, bails, bats and ball lying behind a few metre the kid.

"Cricket," the kid answered, a little confident before, once he knew Vivaan didn't pose any danger.

"Where are your friends?" Vivaan asked. "Who are you playing with?"

The kid's eyes shimmered with tears. He stuck out his lower lips slightly, and puffed his cheeks.

"They didn't come."

Vivaan gave the kid a sad look.

"Will you play with me?" The kid asked, sounding scared.

"Sure." Vivaan smiled at him. He got up from the bench, grabbed the kid's tiny hand in his and walked towards the stumps, bats and other stuffs.

He picked up the stumps and impanted them in their position while Ayush put on the bails over them. He picked up the bat and offered it towards Ayush. Ayush looked at him with his big, black eyes filled with confusion.

"Go bat," Vivaan said. Ayush smiled at him and took the bat. He stood in front of the wicket. Vivaan took the ball and stood beside the other wicket. He threw the ball slow enough for the kid to hit. Ayush hit the ball hard, sending it towards the edge of the park.

"That's a four," Vivaan announced.

Ayush puched the air with a happy smile. Vivaan continued giving him slow balls. Sometimes, Ayush hit four, sometime one, sometime two and sometime nothing.

"Vivaan!" A soft voice called Vivaan.

He was about to throw his 116th ball when the voice came. He stopped mid way and spun around. A smiling, cheerful Drishti was standing behind him.

"Oh! Hey, Drishti!" He kissed his cheek.

"Aren't you going to ball?" Ayush asked, sadly.

"Yes, yes, I am." Vivaan gave threw the ball towards Ayush. He hit it hard, sending it flying over the benches and landed on the pavement, outside the park.

"Six!" Vivaan exclaimed, gleefully like a child. He looked vulnerable and pure at that moment. Soft and too precious to hurt him. There was an innocence under his hard and tough demeanour. A child lived in him, seeking the path to freedom. His eyes sparkled with glee and his bright smile was contagious, spreading it on Drishti's lip as well. Drishti let out a short laugh seeing Vivaan jump up and down.

"I will get the ball," Drishti volunteered. She walked out of the park and on the pavement. Picking up the ball, she returned and handed it over to Vivaan.

Vivaan continued bowling until his 120th ball. He wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. His hair was sticking out at different angles, sweat dribbling down the ends. He ran his hand through his wet hair, adjusting them somewhat.

"You have scored 62 runs," Vivaan said, poking Ayush's nose. Ayush giggled at this. Vivaan pulled him in a hug and then lifted him up. Laughter filled with happiness came out of Ayush's mouth as Vivaan spinned him around. Vivaan was laughing along with him, pure, genuine laugh filled with glee.

Drishti sighed, satisfyingly. She fell for the right person and she knew it.

"Ayush!" A deep, hoarse voice called.

Vivaan set down Ayush. He turned around and saw a man in his mid-thirties walking towards them. He had a friendly face and curly hair like his soon. He smiled at Vivaan.

"Papa! Papa! This brother played with me today!" Ayush said excitedly, jumping up and down.

"Did he?" His father kneeled in front of her son.

"Yes!" He said excitedly but soon his expression morphed into one of confusion. Turning towards Vivaan, he asked, "What's your name?"

"Vivaan Mishra," answered Vivaan.

"You study in Cosmic High School?" asked the kid's father with an air of seriousness and admonishment. "Son of Anurag Mishra?"

"Yes," Vivaan answered, sounding confused.

"I am Ariya's father," he said curtly.

"Ariya Bhardwaj?" asked Vivaan. His throat parched.

"Your ex-girlfriend whom you used and discarded.

"Uncle, it's not like--"

"Don't," her father interrupted. He picked up his cricket equipments, grabbed Ayush's hand and dragged him out of the park.

Drishtu came behind him and placed a soft hand on his shoulder. Vivaan sighed and turned towards her.

"You did the right thing," said Drishti. "You didn't like her anymore and you broke up. It's okay. It's not wrong."

Vivaan smiled at her. He knew that what he did was wrong and Drishti was wrong to justify his actions. But his ego won't let him confess that he was wrong.

Vivaan cupped her cheek and pressed his lips on hers. She snaked her hands around his neck her fingers wandered in his hair. She was about to deepen the kiss when he pulled away. She dropped her hands from his neck.

"I need to go." He didn't wait for her reply; he turned around and walked out of the park.

Drishti's eyes glistened with hurt and disappointment.

It's okay, she thought, he was just upset. It's okay.

Vivaan reached his home and saw that the porch light was on. He looked at the clock in the store beside to his house.

18:37 it read.

He sighed and walked in. He didn't feel like entering his house and facing his sister or adopted sister. Instead of walking in his house, he walked towards the garden. The lush green had turned dark as if someone had draped a dark carpet over it. He walked futhur into the garden, into the dense part.

A swing was moving rhythmically; the wind pushing it. It was hanging between a mango tree and a banyan tree. Though the banyan tree with its prop roots looked menacing, it always calmed him down; it provided him the sense of solace.

He sat on the swing and looked at the soft light coming from their porch light from between various leaves of different trees. There were lots of trees in their garden: banyan, neem, lichi, mango, jackfruit, mahogany, pineapple, banana, blackburry, pumpkin, jamun, grapes, watermelon, melon, guava, papaya, coconut, java plum and what not.

He leaned his head on the steel chain of the swing and exhaled.

"Bhattacharya," he whispered again.

"The irony!" he wondered out aloud, "the person I hate the most and the person I like share the same title. It would even get worse if she starts going to my school as well."

He shuddered at his own thoughts and immediately closed his eyes shut in an attempt to shoo the thoughts away.

"Bhattacharya..."

A/N- Guys, I am back!! I wanted to write this chapter on Sunday but nothing came out of my brain; not even the chapter name, let alone story. I was at my aunt's place and she has a huge garden, I mean huge huge huge garden. Ten times the size of Vivaan's garden. It has a graveyard, two ponds and even two persons house in it. I will insert a picture below and you can vaguely imagine how big it is.

(This is only one tiny portion of the huge huge garden)

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