CHAPTER 6: Part 4 (HUKUM SA?)
~ ISHIKA (POV) ~
As we entered, the warm glow of the café enveloped us. We found a small table near the window, the soft hum of conversation providing a comforting backdrop.
90's Bollywood music was playing there.
"You seem to like this place," he observed, his voice soft, his eyes sweeping over the café.
"Yes, it's very cozy, and I like the music here." I replied, my voice still trembling slightly.
He nodded, his gaze fixed on me. "I must admit, I'm intrigued, Miss Jayshree. You are not at all what I expected."
I exclaimed suddenly "Please call me Ishika?" I can't hear jayshree anymore, not even once.
"Well, Ishika..." he said, It felt as if something extraordinary is going to happen when he said my name like that,
"Ishika," he repeated, savoring the name.
"It suits you." His gaze held mine, "I expected someone more... intimidated. Perhaps even a little frightened. But you, you seem quite... composed."
"I try my best," I mumbled, feeling a strange sense of defiance bubbling up inside me.
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent another shiver down my spine.
The waiter arrived at our table, interrupting the charged silence. "Good evening, sir, madam. What can I get for you?"
"I'll have black coffee," the Hukum Sa said, his voice smooth as silk.
"And for you, Miss...?" the waiter inquired, his eyes lingering on me.
"I'll have lemon tea, as usual, thankyou" I smiled at the waiter, when my eyes fell on Hukum Sa I felt a sudden wave of nervousness wash over me.
His eyes were following the waiter as if he wanted to murder the poor man.
"Hu... Hukum SA..." I called him, my voice trembling.
His gaze snapped to mine, sharp and intense. "Thank you for the ID card," I blurted out, hoping to distract him from the waiter and I had his full focus on me.
I think having him stare at him was better. "Did you find a dress with it?"
"No, my employee just gave that to me when you left," he replied, his voice a low rumble.
"Ohh... Okay..." I murmured, the last part trailing off. "That was one of my favourite dresses," I added softly, the words catching in my throat.
Our order arrived, a welcome interruption to the charged silence.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," he said, his gaze unwavering.
"Yes?" I replied, my heart pounding against my ribs.
"You remember that day in the village?" he asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
"Yes, I do. It was so chaotic!" I giggled, trying to lighten the mood.
"Yes, you told me you'll compensate me for my shirt," he said, his tone serious now.
'What the hell?' Is everyone out to get compensated for there shirts I ruined, why can't I stop being so clumsy?
"I... did...?" I stammered, completely taken aback.
"Yes, you did. But I don't want money in compensation," he said, his eyes fixed on mine.
"Yes, how much... What?" I asked, confused.
"I want to go on twenty dates with you," he said, his voice steady. It felt like déjà vu.
"Twenty dates? But why?" I exclaimed, my breath catching in my throat.
"I won't beat around the bush," he said, his voice deepening. "I want you to be mine, in every sense of the word."
"Aap... aapki himmat kese hui? Hamse esse baat karne ki... (You... How dare you? Say such things to me...)" I gasped, my cheeks burning with indignation.
"Hum chahate hai ki aap hamse shaadi karein. (I want you to marry me.)" He said, his voice firm.
"I don't know how to talk in circles, so I am going to say it clearly. I can't stay without you, and I won't let anyone else have you. The choice is yours."
"What? Aapka dimaag toh kharaab nahi ho gaya hai na, aap mujhe jante hi kitna hai! (Are you out of your mind? Do you even know me?)" I exclaimed, my voice rising.
"That's why I am asking for twenty dates," he said, his voice unwavering.
"No, I can't. I'll just pay the money. How much is it?" I insisted, desperate to escape this conversation.
"Six lakhs," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. My eyes widened in surprise.
What's the need to buy such expensive clothes? These stupid rich people.'Hey Bholenath (Oh God)' I can't even cry.
"How many dates, did you say?" I asked, trying to ignore the way my heart was racing.
"Twenty," he repeated.
"Five," I countered, my voice trembling.
"Fifteen," he countered immediately.
"Seven," I offered, feeling a strange thrill course through me.
"Twelve," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Ten is final," I declared, feeling a surge of unexpected boldness.
"Deal," he said, a triumphant glint in his eyes. Why do I feel like I have just entered a trap willingly? Like a rabbit caught in a snare.
"Okay," I said, extending my hand. He took it, his grip firm and warm, sending a jolt of unexpected electricity through me. As if the hunter had his prey.