Part 1 : http://www.writerbabu.com/post/you-don-t-get-it-do-you---1/17378/

Part 2 :

I'm not in the mood today, and my friends are dragging me to the pub. I've been "refined"(as they would like to call it), head to toe. Painted nails, painted eye-lids, painted lips, waxed arms and legs, and what not. Thank God they did not touch my cheeks since I have a natural blush(I mean really thank God, for all the blood rushing to my cheeks). As if I'm a canvas or something. I'm sure I look like a clown. I really am not in the mood. I'm never in the mood for makeup, and drinks, and dancing. All the forms of torture at the same time! Imagine being subjected to leaches, while you are a prisoner wearing a wreath of thorns.

I'm sitting at the bar, watching Sana, Rhea and Gaurav dance away to the beats. Funny, "American idiot" in London. Or maybe that's just why they're playing it. Well, I'm sitting at the bar having mineral water, so nothing else would sound any weirder to normal human beings.

"I hope you're enjoying the drink."
Crap! Is that Patrick?
"Umm..it's water, actually." I turn around, trying hard to sound normal, casual. It IS him.
"Oh. Can I buy you a drink in that case?"
"I don't drink, really"
"Of course. Explains the mineral water."
He turned to the bartender. "Hendricks, the usual."
And then back to me. "So how was your day?"
"Just reading, and sleeping. But mostly sleeping."
"Oh. You're the reading kind."
"I am."
"Do you read a lot?"
"The decent amount. I can proudly say I'm not insane."
"Always good to not be insane."

Honestly, I'm getting irritated now. What does he want from me? He walks away like that one day, then continues to ignore me for the following days. I mean I don't see him at the cafeteria at lunch anymore. So that magical, special feeling I had is almost gone. I'd like to think it's gone, there really is no point dwelling on it. Even if we're in the cafeteria at the same time, he doesn't look at me, forget the "hello". Even if he is looking at me, by accident I'm sure, he isn't looking. And it's not lunch, never lunch. As if he doesn't want to be around me at all. And today he comes up all gentlemanly and starts talking. What I make out of the whole picture is, he only talks to me when we're alone. Why would he do that?

"You don't talk much." he says again.
"Actually, I'm very talkative." I almost snapped.
"Oh..okay."
My phone rings, "Excuse me.". It's a text from Sana.

"OMG, IS THAT PATRICK!?! DIDN'T MEAN TO INTERRUPT. BUT, OMG!"

She's crazy about him. I'm sure she's aching for me to introduce them.
"Am I pissing you off or something?" Oh, he knows.
"Just a bad day. That's it. Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude." I did mean to, mister. But I have manners.
"Because you'd rather be reading and you're stuck at a pub?"
"Yeah." Like I'd tell you that it's you.
"Would you like to dance with me?"
"Umm..actually..."
"Let me guess, you don't dance?"
"Right"
"You don't dance with me or you don't dance in general?"
"In general, of course. Why would I make an exception for you!"
"Sounds about good"
"But if you're looking for a dance partner or somebody to have drinks with, I can introduce you to one of my friends." I have a lot of friends dying to do you.
"Or we could just talk."
"Well, I'm not very interesting to talk to either. Not tonight."
"Hmm...Okay" He looks away.
I waved over to Sana, asking her to come over.

I introduced them and excused myself to go out. I need to talk to my brother, but it's night in India. I'd still rather not stay in. I didn't drink; but the way I behaved, he's definitely thinking I'm drunk. I have to go away, far away from the reach of Mr "I talk only when I want to otherwise we're strangers". And I can't leave, I have to wait for the others. Maybe I'll read Austen, that always works.

I'm sitting on a bench outside lost in Mr Darcy, when he comes and sits next to me.
I did not look up at him yet, but I know it's him. Why is this even there, this thing ,whatever it is? This magic?

"You're reading." I have to look up now. Fake a smile too, maybe.
"I am."
"What is it?"
"Nothing. I don't think you should bother." It's you.
"I just wanna know what you're reading. Sorry, but I don't understand why that is such a big deal." And he's smirking. Great. There's Mr Darcy and then there's him.
"Oh, Pride and Prejudice."
"And are you liking it?"
"I love it. Reading it for the thousandth time maybe, if that's possible."
"Really? But you know the story after the first time, don't you? Why on earth would you read it so many times after?"
"Austen's my therapy. My way of letting off heat, as you'd like to call it."
"So is it off yet, the heat?"
"No, takes a little while."
"Okay"
"Hmm"
"I'll leave if you want to be alone."
"You can go if you want to."
"You see I'm asking you. Do you want me to go?"
"I don't understand. why should I tell you what to do? We're not even friends or anything."
"I agree. We're not friends. Maybe we aren't meant to be friends."
"What do you mean? Where exactly are you headed? I don't know why we are having this conversation!"
"You've been cranky since you entered the pub. But you seem upset after our little discourse at the bar. I know I did something. Although I'm not sure what. So you can tell me, I will fix it."
"I think I should leave now. I can see my friends are here."
"Hey, are we done?" Gaurav called out to me.
"Coming in two!"
I stuff my kindle back into my handbag. He's watching me, I don't know what to say. Or do. I look up at him again.
"You may be getting it wrong."
"You're right. I may be. But can we establish that we may not be friends, but we're definitely not strangers?"
"Okay"
"Okay". And with that he gives me that devilish, fatal smile of his. Oh, only if smiles could kill.
"I have to leave. Good bye."
"Good bye, Astha."

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