Part two.

My eyes held fury that I never knew existed in me. Perhaps, it was the situation that was making me violent. I concurred.

He continued sitting there, quietly. Staring. Observing. As I glared at him with seething anger. What was wrong with him?

Backing away, I shouted again, a tone higher than a notch, even more: "Say something! Do you mind telling me why? Why? Tell me. I say!"

He exhaled sharply. "Quiet down, will you, little one?" His voice was polite and composed somehow. Where, on the other hand, I was everything but calm. I just shook my head negatively. "No, give me the answers I seek! What're you trying to hide? Do you want to tell me that? Either whatever you said was just to lure me into believing your forged story or you aren't telling me all and everything. Just tell me, why? I say!" 

He pursed his lips together. "Now, that is, I don't understand what you're babbling about, little one. I don't seem to comprehend." I negatively shook my head. “I told you what you should know.”

"Why am I here? Is this what you are not getting or trying to disregard,” I yelled yet again. “Why don't you understand our need to go home— back to the evocation of our parents?”

"Would you stop yelling, please?" His voice was as calm as before when he requested. Standing up, he came nearer. “I told you what you needed to know.”

"No! Don't come closer, I say!" Backing away, I stepped away as I said that. “And no— you didn't!” Whatsoever, he took another step towards my way again. “You haven't told me everything!” Because yes, he wasn't, I had a nagging feeling about him not telling me the whole truth. His strides were long. Distracting myself from his scrutiny, I asked again, "Answers are what I seek, tell me please," backing up. My tone came from a higher to lower pitch in some quiet seconds as my mind started to depict his obvious closeness.

"I can't tell you yet, little one." Another step closer towards me. "I won't," he admitted. “Not now.”

"Why?" I whispered, standing still as he took another final step toward me. Barely standing inches apart. I just wanted to run. But, on the contrary, I was rooted on the spot by the blazing grasp of his demonic eyes. I wanted the answers so desperately by now when it was confirmed that he was hiding behind the half-truth.

"Some things are better while left unsaid, little one. You will know what awaits you in the meantime," he countered softly. His finger trailed down on my cheek slowly as he murmured, voice barely audible, "You have grown into a so much more beautiful woman, little one. And yet you don't even know,” his long lean fingers kept on running up and down my cheek as I held my breath at his sudden touch.  “That makes you even more exquisite," his callous thumb wiped a single tear which escaped from the corner of my eye as he stated that before tucking my straying tresses behind my ear, brushing his finger over my ear ever so slightly. “What you should know about being here is: it's for your own safety and his,” letting his eyes stay a moment or two in the direction of the bed made me aware of him hinting towards my brother. “With me— you both are safe from what your parents have always hidden you from. With them being gone, you are bare to the danger which I cannot afford to let get to you or him,” his eyes held something; a glint maybe which I had never seen before. “So do both of us a favour and accept it as it is without denying the actuality,” his breath hit the top of my head. I felt hot air on it. “Your parents would have wanted it too: to have their children safe and away from any danger which comes their way,” his voice was, in fact, void of emotion but his eyes held another story in them: they were screaming mixed interpreting emotions. 

I felt nothing but utter desolation finding inside my heart uninvited. 

"Uzair bhai: bhaijaan's here. And he's asking for you,” the door, all of a sudden opened as someone informed him about someone's arrival. Precisely his brother's.

That broke me away from the turmoil of thoughts. 

Brother? Did he have a brother? Perhaps, he could help me in getting away? Maybe just maybe? It was my first thought over the intruder. 

"It's my cue to leave,” he sighed. "And you shouldn't be wary of me, you know. I don't bite,” he said softly. “Yeah, of course until you want me to, that is. Until then, I won't,” he grinned suddenly, his dimple deepening.

My wide eyes strayed from him up to the door from where the unknown person just left by his single acknowledgement nod before, colliding back with him again. 

"I will visit you soon, Bambolina. I got business to attain. None of which concerns you. Don't attempt anything stupid till then, will you, little one?” he drawled, lazily. “Whatsoever I would be having a personal eye on you, though,” his voice held an underlying threat that I understood. I stood still. Brushing his thumb one more time on my cheek and, taking my hand into his, he kissed my fingers ever so lightly. The act was so innocent and pure that I didn't have it in me to pull away from him, which was not because I was liking it but because somehow I was in a daze. A daze that was maddening. I just gazed. We both stared. And, then he backed away, abruptly. "Don't ail yourself more than you can handle, little one,” his flecks shone in the sunlight, and his deep black eyes held an undertone of care beneath their stormy surface as he said it. I wanted to say so many things in my mind. I wanted to ask so many questions which had me disturbed for the past few days but I could not. 

"Uzair?” My heart was erratic as I addressed him for the first time by his name. His name sounded so unfamiliar and peculiar in my mouth. It didn't bring any memories with it as I thought it would. "You said back t—then at the station that you'd take us home. Please let us go, Uzair," I blinked as I stuttered. "If we were friends as you said we were, you are supposed to help me, don't you? That's what real friends do, right? Don't they? They help each other," I reiterated. Before I could even react, he pressed his warm soft lips over the crown of my head, pecking it, gently. 

"Are you quite certain, little one?” His voice was as soft as a breeze. “As I don't quite recall saying such sentences to you.” My eyes widened. Why was he lying? “And for the second question of yours— the answer would be a yes. Well, yes they are:  friends are supposed to help each other out,” he admitted. “But not when you know— you will be the only one who could keep your friend safe in the middle of the perilous situations when it comes forward to it. And, that is what I am doing— keeping you both safe," saying, he strode backwards from me. My eyes still held mine.

"Why can't you just tell me? Why this sort of suspense and all? Am I not having the right to know even where I am staying and what type of people I am with?" 

His nerves tensed as I whispered when he was about to walk away. 

"I desire to say yes more than anything, but I simply can't.... The truth might.... break you, Radhika. And for that, we both aren't ready,” his face slightly turned from me as he said it. “I am not ready.” Hand running over his mane. "We both are not!"

"What would you have us do, then? Await for the right movement? But for what purpose and more importantly for how long and for whom? For you to let us leave? What if you aren't ever ready for that?" I breathed, hard. "I want to leave right now! I say!" I didn't conjure when my soft state turned into a demanding one that must have existed in the tone I was using. His dark obsidian eyes softened as I thought they had because, in the very next second, it was as impassive as his facial expression.

"I can't just let you leave. You are— you both are," mentioning his index finger at Shaurya he completed: "Now, my responsibility." 

And without waiting for my comeback, he left just like that. The door shut with a click, indicating he locked the door from outside. I tumbled down on the floor. The answers which were so unseen and unpredictable kept swirling in my head again and again and again...

We were friends.

Very close friends.

Our families were close. We used to be neighbours.

Our elders were childhood friends.

Uncle is safe and happy knowing you both are with me. His voice rang inside my head. 

His cold menacing answers ailed me, bringing back the afflictions from inside me yet again as I sat there on the floor with the given answers still twirling around my psyche with inhuman speed, I couldn't help but be tense about it. 

What if he was telling the truth?

But, what if he was not?

Must be one of the ploys he wanted me to trust him?

Both questions tempted me to find the answers but I stayed still with trepidation. 

“Why are you making me detest you more?” I murmured. “What are you saving us from? When I need to be kept safe from you; away from you,” my voice broke at the end of the sentence.