-• the poet and his poetry •-

"You really didn't have to drive me home. Vivaan Bhai was there. He could have dropped me home or asked someone -"

"Tara," Shourya interrupts. I hum. "Just say thank you. It's not that hard." He glances at me with a boyish smile.

I nod. "Right. Thank you." I nibble on the inside of my lower lip, twisting and wringing my fingers in my lap as I pretend to stare outside the window.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Can you?" I raise a brow.

He chuckles. "Sorry, Miss. England, may I ask you something?"

I laugh. "Yes, you may."

The smile on his face lightens, he grows a little more serious. A slight shift in the seat, a clear of his throat before he inhales deeply. "Are you- are you done with him?"

I sit straight. "Yes."

"For good?"

I nod, the words heavy on my tongue.

"Do you regret it?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Regrets don't settle in until much later, until it's too late." My eyes shift to him. "But I'd be lying if I say it didn't hurt."

His head turns. "I understand." Then he looks back at the road.

"I'm sorry for pulling you into this mess." I place my hand on his bicep. "You needed an answer and I left you hoping. I'm really sorry."

"No," he shakes his head, cupping the back of my hand as I go to pull it away. "You never gave me hope. I couldn't give up." He smiles at me in assurance. "And I'm glad I didn't."

"Why?" I smirk. "Because you've a chance now?" I retract my hand. He quickly grasps it, bringing it back on his arm, squeezing it gently. "What are you doing?" The smirk transforms into a shy smile.

"Friends who hold hands?" His attention constantly shifts from me to the road.

I guffaw aloud, escaping his hold to slap his arm.

"You'll never go back to him, right?" He asks, and the fear in his voice makes me feel wanted, belonged, like I'm something he's madly desperate for, and can't afford losing. "You'll never give him another chance?"

I shake my head. "He doesn't deserve it."

"And what if you're unable to forget him?"

I sigh. "My father once told me he wants me to fall for a man who's brave enough to fight for our love. And Rudra isn't that man. He has found his home in the dark. And I don't want to force him out of there. Later, it'd be nothing but a blame game."

"I thought you'd resent him?" Shourya asks in a whisper.

"I wanted to." I nod. "When he left, I wanted to go after him and expose him to everyone. But that'd make me petty. And I hate leaving a bad impression on people. I'm a people's pleaser, you see?" I sneak in a joke to loosen the tension. He smiles. "He isn't comfortable becoming more than a secret and I'm not comfortable staying as one for him."

"So, you're never meeting him again?"

"I can't speak for the future." I shrug. Then it strikes me, "Wait, aren't you half brothers? Are you fine knowing I've a history with your brother?" I ask worriedly. "If you've a good bond-"

"Don't worry about it." He shakes his head. "We're good."

I nod slowly. The silence falls comfortably between us. Frequent car honks sometimes fill the void.

I've a lot of questions to ask him. But I'm not sure what topic is sensitive and what isn't. Rajawats are a mess. That's for sure. Nothing makes sense about the family. The relationships, the business, the crimes, everything is interconnected, an intricate web of unresolved issues.

And I thought my life is confusing.

"May I ask you something?" I muster up the courage to speak. "You can choose to not answer if you're uncomfortable." I add hurriedly.

He hums in response.

"Is Rudra an illegitimate -"

"Yeah." He answers almost immediately.

"So your father had an affair?" I continue hesitantly.

"No, my mother was sexually molested." He states.

I stop myself from gasping aloud. "O-Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked-"

"It's okay." He cuts me off. "I don't think about it anymore. I don't even remember her. I was two when she hung herself to death."

"Oh," I whisper, surviving another blow without giving out a physical reaction. "Do- Do you miss her?"

He shakes his head. "I've no memory of her. I just know how she looks."

"Was she pretty?"

He nods.

"Yeah, because your father isn't much of a looker. I almost thought you were adopted." I deviate from the painful past.

He chuckles. "I had a plastic surgery, remember?"

"As if your perfect face lets me forget that. How much did you pay the man, anyway? To make you look like..... Like this?" I fail at describing him in words.

"Like what?" But he insists.

"Like this." I repeat like a fool.

"Like what, Tara?"

"You're just fishing for compliments." I snort, crossing my arms on the chest.

"Nobody has ever complimented me before." He says.

I scoff. "C'mon, make up a lie I can believe. I'm sure Akansha reminds you how Godly you look everytime you're together."

"I look Godly?" He picks up on my regretted word.

"That's what Akansha must think."

"And what do you think?"

"It doesn't matter what I think. We're just friends." I shrug.

"Do you not want to be "just" friends?" He air quotes.

"Will you stop twisting my words?" I scold.

"I'm not." He says, "I'm trying to find meaning in them."

"Ignore me then. I blabber a lot."

"I don't care. I love listening to you."

Blush consumes me. No, it swallows me, drowns me, buries me and blooms over my grave in shades of all colors. He has a way with words. No questioning. But around him, I forget how human communication works. He says and I stupidly counter, then he says something smarter and I'm left wanting to fan my cheeks.

"Ever thought of becoming a poet?" I finally find my voice.

"No, but I did think of becoming yours. Innumerous of times." He says, meeting my eyes. "What do you say? Want to make me your poet?"

"What do I get in return?"

"I'll make you my poetry." He whispers.

My heart skips a beat.

I lean in and cup his jaw, forcing his face towards the windshield. "Eyes on the road." I settle back in my seat, trying to make myself as small as I can to avoid looking into his breezy brown eyes. This man is hell bent on breaking my walls.

I glance at him.

The contours of his gorgeous face glow under the incandescent street lights. I clutch my stomach, tearing my eyes off him. Something is happening inside me and I'm not sure what to call it. I don't think it can be diagnosed with a scientific term. It's something else, something incomprehensible. It's nothing less euphoric, as if I can jump out of a running car and the air will carry me off in its arms.

"We're here, Esther. I'll see you tomorrow." He says in that silvery voice of his, edged with certainty, dipped in the depths of darkness, sexy and confident.

Fuck.

This man is going to be the death of me.

"Drive me inside."

He looks at me with surprise. "Are you sure?"

I nod. "We're friends. I don't see a problem with a friend dropping another friend home."

He smiles softly. "As you say, my love." He steers the car towards the gates. Upon seeing me in the passenger seat, the guards order to open the gates. He drives the car inside. It comes to a smooth halt in the porch.

I attempt to unbuckle the belt but it doesn't budge. An embarrassed smile takes over my lips. I glance at him sheepishly, requesting a minute as I struggle to undo the belt.

Then a familiar, peculiar, but addictive scent intoxicates me. I breathe in deeply. The tip of his nose almost touches mine. Our eyes lock. "The belt," he murmurs.

"That's right," I stretch my neck back.

He unclasps it easily.

I slide off the belt. He settles back in his seat. We sit in silence.

"Good night." I break the intimate awkwardness.

"Good night." He glances at me.

I open the door and step out. He bends his head to wave me good bye. I wave back, holding the phone with both hands as I stand there timidly until he revives the engine. The car pulls off, zooming down the driveway and disappearing into the night.

I release a strained breath, the smile on my face impossible to be wiped away. I make my way inside the palace. Heels click on the marble flooring. Sound of rushed footsteps intrudes the deafening silence once I enter the living room. I stop at the end of the staircase, staring into the dimly lit hallway until my confusion disappears with Janet's appearance.

"You're not asleep yet?"

She grabs my hand and drags me upstairs.

"Janet?" I ask loudly.

"Shh!" She places a finger on her mouth, silencing me with a glare. I huff out a breath.

We enter my room and I close the door. "What was that?"

"You tell me." She places her hands on the hips.

"What did I do?" I frown, putting my phone on the desk.

"Let's start with the fact that a commited man dropped you home this late?" She inquires. I roll my eyes in exasperation and walk up to the dressing table, undoing my wrist watch. I place it down and pour myself a glass of water, taking a sip to hydrate myself.

"Are you implying he's cheating on his fiancee with me?"

"No." She states. "I'm saying you're letting him toy with your feelings-"

"He's breaking up with her."

"That's all they say-"

"He is!" I get up angrily. "And even if he's not, I'll decide if he's worth the trouble or not!" I point at myself. "Janet, I know what I'm doing."

"Tara, he'll never break up with her. Mark my words. They all say it, but they never do! It's all just bluff!"

"And what makes you think that!?"

"Because that's what my father said to me when I caught him with our english teacher!"

I gasp.

"But last week I found out he never broke up with her. He lied to me."

I rush up to her and hold her shoulders. "And you never told me?"

"I was so ashamed." She sniffles. "This time it was Elliott who found them having dinner in some fancy restaurant in New York. And he called me that night. He was crying. When I didn't react much, he realised I already knew. I tried to explain I had no idea Dad was still going out with that woman but he wasn't willing to hear me. Then he called me again, and said he's going to tell Mom." She tears up. "That woman left her country, her career, her ambitions, her dreams for her husband and what did he give her in return? Betrayal. He cheated on her. He has been cheating on her for the last seven years." She breaks down in sobs.

I hug her tightly.

Muffled cries reach my ear. I pat her back gently, rubbing it up and down, soothing her with soft caresses. Slowly, I stir her towards the edge of my bed and we sit down. She pulls away after some time. I offer her a few tissues from the bedside drawer.

"Thanks," she takes them and blows her nose.

"You should have told me the moment Elliott called you. Why did you suffer so long?"

"You were too occupied with Rudra and Shourya and your brothers." She murmurs. I sigh remorsefully. "I didn't want to stress you with my problems. But then you came complaining to me how they were ignoring you and I lost it. I don't want you to lose yourself for the men who are not worthy of you." She sniffles, rubbing her nose with the tissues.

"When exactly did Elliott call you?"

"The night we returned from the camp." She answers.

"Right, and I thought your nosey ass finally learned of the word privacy." I jest.

She chuckles. "Did you think I'd have missed on that family drama if not for this?" She eyes me playfully.

"Of course, not. I'm a fool to even think that." I say dramatically.

She rolls her eyes.

"The English teacher from our middle school? Ms. Wellington?"

I see her nod in response.

"Wow, his standards hit a shocking low." I shake my head in disbelief. "Shakira wasn't playing around when she said you swapped a Ferrari for a Twingo," I snort.

She snickers.

"I never thought Uncle Garett would ever turn out to be a sleazebag. No offense."

"None taken." She sighs. "He's a good man. A great father. But I just can't stand him anymore. You know, when Elliott said he's going to reveal everything to mom, Dad called and begged me to convince him to not break our family. And as long as this doesn't reach Mom, he'll excuse me choosing literature as my career choice. Like, you've to be kidding me. How selfish can you get?"

"You told him?" I ask in surprise.

She nods. "I texted him. He didn't reply. Wasn't even answering my call until that night."

I groan in the cup of my hands. "So much was going on in your life and I had no idea. God, I'm a shitty friend."

"It's not your fault." She rubs my arm in assurance. "I don't know how to share."

"And I don't know how to not share." I deadpan.

Her head drops to my shoulder. Mine drops on her. Our hands interlace together.

"Is that why you broke up with Arush?"

She pulls away to look at me. "What do you mean?"

"I know for a fact he didn't want to end the relationship so soon. You convinced him."

"I noticed his attention straying from me towards other girls more than often."

"And you were afraid he'd cheat on you?"

She shrugs, not answering my question. But I hear it. She was scared of ending up like her mother.

"Do you still like him?"

She shakes her head.

"Are you sure? A hundred percent positive?"

"Yes. I don't like him anymore. In the beginning, I had a hope. I thought maybe I'll feel something for him. But nope. It was the same. Attraction pulls me closer and the moment it fizzles out, I start to get insecure. It starts to mean nothing and everything all at once. I get scared. As if either of us is bound to cheat." She opens up.

"It's okay, I understand." I nod in understanding. "But promise me one thing," I hold out my hand. She reluctantly gives her own. "If there a comes a man-" her hand starts to slip off. I clutch it tighter.

"Tara-"

"If there comes a man who makes you think that maybe..... maybe he's worth the risk, don't hesitate, okay? Regrets live longer than heartbreaks."

She bites on her lip. "I can't promise -"

"You have to." I say stubbornly. "Promise me."

She sighs in defeat and holds my hand back. "But then you promise too."

"Anything."

"You'll not let those men toy with your feelings." She states.

"I've already ended things with Rudra."

Her jaw drops. "No!"

"I did. The night you came and apologise to me, he did too. I gave him two choices. Remove the mask or leave."

"And he chose the second option?"

I nod, feeling shitty for letting him walk all over me.

"That motherfucker." She grunts. "How dare he makes you feel like you're not worth the trouble!"

I chuckle through my tears. "Tell me. Even trouble loves me!"

"I know right." She snorts.

Our eyes meet and we laugh together.

"Anyway," I brush off the tear. "He made the choice and if he thinks that's best for him, I can't complain. His past is complicated-"

"Don't justify him. That's the first mistake."

"I know, I'm not justifying him. But I do pity him. Maybe he had his reasons?" I lift my shoulders in question. "We never know what someone is going through unless we are in their shoes."

"You're just too understanding." She murmurs. "If I was in your place, I'd have punched him right in the face."

"It's okay. It's not like he made me any promises or something. I wanted more and I should have been clear with him from the start. I'm equal parts to blame." I intertwine my fingers together. "I'm afraid I'll miss him once the anger wears off."

"Is that why you're clinging to Shourya?"

I click my tongue.

"Okay, sorry. That was harsh."

"We're friends. And we're staying friends as long as I don't change my mind."

"Is he really breaking up with her?"

"He texted her right in front of me." I tell her.

"What?"

"That they need to talk." I reply.

"And that guarantees a break-up?"

I breathe out in annoyance. "Look, I don't know, okay. And I don't care. I've drawn a line and I'm intending to never cross it. But if he's single, I'm single, I can't promise you anything."

She nods. "As long as he isn't two-timing with you and her."

"Should we go to sleep now? You've early morning lectures and I need to drive you there."

She groans. "When is my driver's license coming?"

"Ask Ms. Rodrigo," I get up to change into something comfortable.

"That was a really bad joke." She grimaces.

"I know." I walk into the closet and pick out my night outfit.

"Good night!" She calls from outside.

"Good night!" I shout back. "Close the door on your way out!" I add a split second later.

"Yes, your highness." She mocks but obeys.

I freshen up and change into the satin tee and shorts, sprawling on my bed before I pick up my phone from the nightstand and plug in the charger. The screen lights up, revealing a notification.

I unlock the phone and press on it. It takes me to the chat screen.

Shourya: Are you sleeping?
received 5 minutes ago.

Me: Were you expecting me to reply in my sleep?

The reply comes faster than I blink.

Shourya: You can never answer me straight, can you?

Me: no, Shourya. I'm not sleeping.

Shourya: and you're obedient.

Me: I was being sarcastic, but alright.

Shourya: sarcasm over text?

I sigh. He doesn't know how to give up, does he?

Me: what is it?

Shourya: I'm thinking of you.

I blush.

Me: Good night, Shourya.

Shourya: Good night, Esther :)

I chuckle noticing the emoticon he added at the end of the message. Placing my phone on the nightstand, I yank the covers over my head and bury my face in the pillow to muffle the giggles, kicking my feet aggressively in the air.

Then I force myself to fall asleep.

Only to be woken up at the break of the dawn because of the harsh pounding on my door.

"What the fuck?" I groan and throw off the comforter, reading the time on the digital clock through my sleep induced eyes.

It's still five am.

Whoever it is better have a deathbed ready.

Storming up to the door, I force it open. "What-" Arush holds up something in his hand. I calm down and look carefully. "You found it!?" My eyes grow large in shock.

He nods with the biggest grin on his face. "I did! I found the sim!"

Time to peel off another layer of the mystery.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.