Yesterday, 11:13 PM
Chapter 102: A New Bond Deepens
Nivi stepped out of the park, the bottle of premium whiskey tucked securely in her bag, the evening air cool against her peach kurta, the olive green leggings shimmering faintly with each step. The dogs’ grateful nuzzles lingered in her mind, their tails wagging as she fed them, and the thrill of her plan to surprise Rajendar fueled her stride. She hailed an auto, the ride to 12B, Old Gandhi Road smooth despite the growing dusk, her heart beating with anticipation. The house came into view, its simple facade unchanged, and she stepped out, the bag heavy with purpose.
She approached the gate, Titan bounding over with a playful wag, his muscular frame nuzzling her legs as she entered with confidence. The bell rang, the sound echoing, and after a moment, Rajendar opened the door, leaning on his walking stick, his face lighting with surprise. “Nivetha? Back so soon?” His voice was gruff but warm, his bandaged ankle a reminder of his injury.
Nivi smiled, stepping inside, the kurta brushing her thighs. “The dogs are fed—I took care of them. Thought I’d check on you.” Her tone was caring, the bag rustling as she set it down.
Rajendar nodded, his eyes softening. “Thank you. That’s a relief—I’ve never asked anyone for this.” His voice carried gratitude, the stick tapping as he moved to the sofa.
She followed, pulling the whiskey bottle from her bag, presenting it with a grin. “A surprise for you.” His eyes widened, a flicker of concern crossing his face as he took it, the label gleaming in the light.
“Whiskey? Nivetha, you shouldn’t have—I’m bothered you bought this. It’s not right for you to spend on me.” His tone was protective, his hand trembling slightly on the stick.
Nivi waved off his worry, her voice reassuring. “I noticed your bottle was almost empty last night. You drank so little to save it, stuck here without going out. I wanted to help—there’s a way women can buy these days. And,” she added playfully, a naughty glint in her eye, “I drink too, you know.” Her admission was bold, the kurta swaying as she leaned closer.
Rajendar’s eyebrows rose, a faint smile breaking through. “You drink? That’s… unexpected.” His tone was curious, the stick resting against the sofa as he sat.
She nodded, settling beside him. “Occasionally. Let me serve you—rest that ankle.” She took the bottle, pouring a glass, the amber liquid glinting, and handed it to him. His thanks was heartfelt, his fingers brushing hers, a spark of connection.
“You’re too kind,” he said, sipping slowly, the whiskey warming his throat. “I’d say no to food, but…”
Nivi grinned, standing. “I insist—how about an omelet?” Before he could protest, she moved to the kitchen, the unfamiliar space a challenge again. She rummaged through the cabinets, finding eggs, onions, and a pan, the olive leggings shimmering as she worked. Rajendar watched from the sofa, guiding her. “Salt’s by the stove, oil in the corner.”
She cracked the eggs, the sizzle filling the room, and cooked a simple omelet, the aroma mingling with the whiskey’s scent. Returning with the plate, she set it before him, and he took a bite, nodding approval. “Good,” he murmured, the first drink steadying him.
They sat, the omelet half-eaten as he poured a second round, the glass clinking softly. “The park dogs—Rusty’s the bold one, Shadow’s shy,” he said, his voice loosening, the whiskey softening his edges.
Nivi smiled, sipping water. “Rusty’s a leader. Shadow warmed up to me.” Her tone was light, the kurta brushing her knees as she leaned in.
The conversation flowed, the second drink in his hand, when he paused, his eyes on her. “You mentioned you drink, right? Why not have some?” His voice was inviting, a rare openness breaking through.
Nivi thought for a moment, the craving from earlier stirring, the power of the moment tempting her. “Alright,” she said, her voice playful, standing to reach the top shelf where he pointed. “Second glass up there?”
He nodded, his smile faint. “Top shelf—been alone, so no use for it.” His words carried a hint of loneliness, his eyes following her.
She stretched, the shelf tall, and jumped slightly, her fingers grasping the glass. It was the first time she noticed Rajendar’s gaze linger on her body, the kurta lifting to reveal a glimpse of her midriff, the olive leggings accentuating her legs. He’s breaking, she thought, pride swelling, the whiskey’s influence aiding her. She wanted to push further, the power intoxicating.
Grabbing the glass, she wiped it with her dupatta, then set it aside, leaving the dupatta off her shoulder, the neckline dipping to show a noticeable cleavage. The move was deliberate, her kurta’s fabric framing her curves, and she poured a drink for herself, a third round for him.
“Cheers,” she said, raising her glass, his eyes meeting hers with a new warmth, the chapter ending as the clink of their glasses echoed in the quiet room.
Nivi stepped out of the park, the bottle of premium whiskey tucked securely in her bag, the evening air cool against her peach kurta, the olive green leggings shimmering faintly with each step. The dogs’ grateful nuzzles lingered in her mind, their tails wagging as she fed them, and the thrill of her plan to surprise Rajendar fueled her stride. She hailed an auto, the ride to 12B, Old Gandhi Road smooth despite the growing dusk, her heart beating with anticipation. The house came into view, its simple facade unchanged, and she stepped out, the bag heavy with purpose.
She approached the gate, Titan bounding over with a playful wag, his muscular frame nuzzling her legs as she entered with confidence. The bell rang, the sound echoing, and after a moment, Rajendar opened the door, leaning on his walking stick, his face lighting with surprise. “Nivetha? Back so soon?” His voice was gruff but warm, his bandaged ankle a reminder of his injury.
Nivi smiled, stepping inside, the kurta brushing her thighs. “The dogs are fed—I took care of them. Thought I’d check on you.” Her tone was caring, the bag rustling as she set it down.
Rajendar nodded, his eyes softening. “Thank you. That’s a relief—I’ve never asked anyone for this.” His voice carried gratitude, the stick tapping as he moved to the sofa.
She followed, pulling the whiskey bottle from her bag, presenting it with a grin. “A surprise for you.” His eyes widened, a flicker of concern crossing his face as he took it, the label gleaming in the light.
“Whiskey? Nivetha, you shouldn’t have—I’m bothered you bought this. It’s not right for you to spend on me.” His tone was protective, his hand trembling slightly on the stick.
Nivi waved off his worry, her voice reassuring. “I noticed your bottle was almost empty last night. You drank so little to save it, stuck here without going out. I wanted to help—there’s a way women can buy these days. And,” she added playfully, a naughty glint in her eye, “I drink too, you know.” Her admission was bold, the kurta swaying as she leaned closer.
Rajendar’s eyebrows rose, a faint smile breaking through. “You drink? That’s… unexpected.” His tone was curious, the stick resting against the sofa as he sat.
She nodded, settling beside him. “Occasionally. Let me serve you—rest that ankle.” She took the bottle, pouring a glass, the amber liquid glinting, and handed it to him. His thanks was heartfelt, his fingers brushing hers, a spark of connection.
“You’re too kind,” he said, sipping slowly, the whiskey warming his throat. “I’d say no to food, but…”
Nivi grinned, standing. “I insist—how about an omelet?” Before he could protest, she moved to the kitchen, the unfamiliar space a challenge again. She rummaged through the cabinets, finding eggs, onions, and a pan, the olive leggings shimmering as she worked. Rajendar watched from the sofa, guiding her. “Salt’s by the stove, oil in the corner.”
She cracked the eggs, the sizzle filling the room, and cooked a simple omelet, the aroma mingling with the whiskey’s scent. Returning with the plate, she set it before him, and he took a bite, nodding approval. “Good,” he murmured, the first drink steadying him.
They sat, the omelet half-eaten as he poured a second round, the glass clinking softly. “The park dogs—Rusty’s the bold one, Shadow’s shy,” he said, his voice loosening, the whiskey softening his edges.
Nivi smiled, sipping water. “Rusty’s a leader. Shadow warmed up to me.” Her tone was light, the kurta brushing her knees as she leaned in.
The conversation flowed, the second drink in his hand, when he paused, his eyes on her. “You mentioned you drink, right? Why not have some?” His voice was inviting, a rare openness breaking through.
Nivi thought for a moment, the craving from earlier stirring, the power of the moment tempting her. “Alright,” she said, her voice playful, standing to reach the top shelf where he pointed. “Second glass up there?”
He nodded, his smile faint. “Top shelf—been alone, so no use for it.” His words carried a hint of loneliness, his eyes following her.
She stretched, the shelf tall, and jumped slightly, her fingers grasping the glass. It was the first time she noticed Rajendar’s gaze linger on her body, the kurta lifting to reveal a glimpse of her midriff, the olive leggings accentuating her legs. He’s breaking, she thought, pride swelling, the whiskey’s influence aiding her. She wanted to push further, the power intoxicating.
Grabbing the glass, she wiped it with her dupatta, then set it aside, leaving the dupatta off her shoulder, the neckline dipping to show a noticeable cleavage. The move was deliberate, her kurta’s fabric framing her curves, and she poured a drink for herself, a third round for him.
“Cheers,” she said, raising her glass, his eyes meeting hers with a new warmth, the chapter ending as the clink of their glasses echoed in the quiet room.
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