Ding. Dong.

I groaned, waking up to the sound of door bell, the position I'd fallen asleep in was going to torture me for an entire day. I checked my phone, 08:04 a.m. who was here at this time of the day? I got up and walked towards the door, the thoughts from last night still fresh in my mind.

The night after meeting him for the first time I had watched an episode of Brooklyn Nine Nine and then written in my diary. I remember mentioning him in it, he was one of the the only two people who've gotten a positive line in my diary entry.

I opened the door with a yawn and found my father standing there with a box in his hand and a wide grin on his face. "Papa?" I was surprised to see my father here, "why are you here at this ungodly hour?" I asked, moving slightly away for him to enter the door.

He walked inside, "for normal people this is quite a reasonable time," he said and settled the box on the dining table. I went after him once I closed the door, observing the box and concluding it looked much more like a tiffin. "I went to your home but you weren't there, so thought you'll be here and I was right," he shrugged sitting on one of the chairs.

I looked down at the ground, "yeah, I came here yesterday," I answered lowly and walked towards him, "do you want anything to eat? If so, we could order something or you'll have to cook," I wasn't a bad cook, I would certainly not burn the kitchen of I tried but I was too sleepy to even enter the kitchen at the moment.

He chuckled, "I have brought food," he said as he pointed to the tiffin box, "I tried to make that Indian dish you liked when you were a kid. Your mom used to make it," he said not naming the dish. I knew he was doing that intentionally because he couldn't ever pronounce it correctly. I went near the table an opened it, dal makhani, Mum always used to make it on 28th of every month.

I smiled looking at the food in front of me, for someone's first attempt it smelled better than ever, "sit for ten minutes, I'll go and freshen up, we can eat it together afterwards," saying that I started to walk towards the bathroom but he called me from behind.

He got up from the chair, giving me a small smile, "sorry kid, I promised your mother that I'll meet her and we'll eat breakfast together today," he didn't need to explain anymore. I knew how he still felt for Mum and I didn't want him to miss such an opportunity.

I smiled back at him, "more dal makhani for me then," I joked and he started to walk, "enjoy!" I said before bidding him goodbye unaware when I'll be meeting him the next time. I took a deep breath, pushing the negative thoughts aside as I closed the main door for the second time since morning and went to have a shower.

That morning, it was around 4 a.m. when my phone has buzzed, as usual I was busy watching some movie I don't remember now. When I checked the phone a huge smile had found its way on my face. Papa had transferred me a thousand dollars. I messaged him a huge thankyou note and had gotten a total four hours of sleep before my alarm rang at 8.

The classes had gone smoothly and Betty was absent too, with a smile plastered on my face I went to the canteen instead of the library. I had bought a sandwich perhaps and found an empty table too. For the first time in last three weeks or so, I was eating like a human. "I don't think you'd mind if I sat here," a voice that way too sweet to forget said as the owner of the voice took a seat across me.

I looked up at him, his brown curls were a bit less messy than the day before, but his smile was the same. His olive-green eyes looking in my blue ones as he waited for me to say something, "actually I would mind," I said before going back to eating and heard him sigh.

I heard him stand up and then sit back down and looked up, "you know what? I've already taken a seat here so keep minding, but I still won't get up," he grinned as he started to eat his cheese sandwich, looking at me after every bite.

"What are you looking at?" I snapped and he stopped eating. His eyes stayed on me all this while as I waited for an answer from him. I felt bad as he pouted with his thin lips and frowned slightly.

He raised his eyebrows, "you." answering the question he continued to eat the same way as before. I had not expected him to actually accept that, and now that he had, I wished I didn't ask the question. I scratched my left eyebrow with my left thumb and ate whatever it was on my plate and stood up to return the dirty plate.

I hadn't realised that he'd followed me untill I was done with the payment. "What are you trying to do?" I asked, sounding very rude, just the way I wanted to.

Oleander looked at me for a second, as if trying to think of some answer, "to know you better?" It sounded too much like a question for my liking. Although he was a nice guy, good looking too, I didn't want to make any friend only to get my heart broken later on. But who knew I would let him break it willingly.

I sat at the dining table, serving myself the dal makhani with some zeera rice which I cooked myself just some moments ago. As soon as I ate the first bite I knew my father had lied. There was no way he could have cooked this, it was way too tasty for someone who had burnt water while making tea once. Another bite and I knew who had made it.