It was a shabby little stall, with makeshift benches that wobbled slightly as we took a seat. It was these places which made the rain storms not only bearable but even fun. These shabby little stalls with broken down benches serving boiling hot half cutting for five rupees felt more cozy than our posh two BHK apartments in an upscale neighborhood in this weather. As we sat there in a corner, with little wet patches on our clothes where the rain had soaked with steamy little plastic cups of tea in our cold-numb hands, the most unexpected question came from Abeer.

"Can we play twenty questions?"

I stared at him, dumbfounded. Is he serious? Is there something in this tea...? I looked down at the amber colored liquid in my hands, then shook my head. Like I said, living in Abeer Sen's vicinity made me bonkers. I noticed a faint blush rising up his cheeks. His right hand scratched the back of his neck while he blinked his eyes awkwardly. It felt like the cold rain seeped in my heart, froze around it and then melted and cascaded in my stomach to wake up the dormant butterflies.

Only Abeer Sen can blink like that, awkward and adorable at the same moment!

"Umm...just to pass time?" he asked nervously. Nervous? Mr. Abeer Sen? It was a truly strange day. He sounded so vulnerable at the silliest of things; it almost made me laugh.

I was tempted to give in that moment but I wasn't going to - I am a dish who had haughtiness as its garnishing. And garnishes are SO very important in a dish.

I didn't reply, choosing that moment to relish in the piping hot liquid. He was still looking at me. I was gazing ahead, which was stupid, but I didn't have anything else to do. Scrolling through my phone was a very good option, but something in me didn't want to break the spell that the nature had cast upon us. The light within the screen leaves us with no time to appreciate the light around us. Celebrating nature's beauty with a worthy company is a rarity one shouldn't miss.

And you just appreciated his company. Goddammit!

We sat in silence for some time. Then another question came as abruptly as the last one. "Seriously Aashi, do you have anything better to do right now?" I froze.

Aashi. My name rolled out of his mouth in a way I hadn't heard anybody say it. It made me wish I hadn't agreed on a first name basis.

Or maybe agreed on it sooner, so I could hear those two syllables of my name roll out in the sexiest way possi...

I pushed that thought in the farthest and darkest corner of my mind. Realizing how dangerous silence was, I turned to look at him.

"But twenty questions? Seriously, what are we....sixteen?" I questioned.

He rolled his eyes. "If anyone here is acting like a moody teenager, it's definitely not me. Sometimes you are sparing with me, other times you're ignoring me, then it's you being nice, and then suddenly you're back to being Ms. Grouchy."

Heat crept up my neck, but I didn't say anything. Wisely so. Abeer was on a rampage. And if he put it that way, a larger part of me did agree on the 'Ms. Grouchy' part. Ok, on all parts. But I wasn't gonna tell him that any soon. Perhaps never.

He continued his verbal assault on sweet little me. "Sometimes you are so excited in the office about the smallest thing it feels like going back to high school with all the screaming girls and now you are being all sophisticated. Do you have a chronic mood swing disorder?"

He had noticed. How was that even possible?

I fumed. Even if it was true, nobody told me that to my face ever. Even my parents didn't, who exercised (and still exercise) a lot of control over my life. He had gone too far, there was no coming back.

I fixed my deadliest glare on him and nearly shouted. "Screaming girls? Mood swing disorder? Mr. Abeer Sen, at least I'm what I am and not some nicey lovey-dovey kinda farce! If I'm Ms. Grouchy, then you definitely are Mr. Pushover!"

Me having one of my infamous angry outbursts in a public place was never a sweet sight. I was a total banshee, and a complete embarrassment to anyone accompanying me. Just like now, when the other people on the stall had turned around to stare at the little spectacle I was causing. Abeer didn't seem frazzled by my insults. Neither by the attention we were getting. He was very focused on our little war. Too bad so was I.

"That is called being nice you know! Not screaming at interns doesn't make us pushovers, but you wouldn't know that now, would you?" He taunted, a half smile threatening to conquer his beautiful face.

Aashi, you are totally incorrigible. I bristled.

"I did scream on Raj that day but he needed a scolding because with the kind of work he is doing, it won't take long for us to go bankrupt. Incorrect figures, sloppy paperwork and lack of punctuality - what more do you need to completely ruin a company? Plus, you are no one to judge me based on that when you go around being a goody-two-shoes to all the young girls in the office. Dripping your words in chashni, as if you are one harishchandra ki aulaad," I said in a single breath.

"Hey, are you accusing me of being a flirt?" he said, resting his hand on his chest in mock defiance.

I butted my chin out. "Your words, not mine." He rolled his eyes at my petulant reply.

"That is not flirting if that's what you think it is. I have just been taught to respect and be good to all women."

As soon as he finished saying I burst out laughing, my head falling back, the action causing my already loose bun to come unfastened. My long dark brown hair cascaded down my back, but I didn't pay too much attention to that. I was busy laughing. The remark had not been that funny, but somehow it had cracked me up.

"Yeah, right," I managed a sarcastic eye roll in between my raucous laughter. I looked at Abeer to find his hazel stare on me. His eyes had somehow darkened with an emotion I couldn't name. It vanished before it could hit home. I didn't make much of it.

"So what, all Bengali men are sweet," he perked up in mock offense.

"Sweeter than Bengali rasagullas?" I called, highly amused. "That's too high a target."

He paused to look at me for a brief moment, before looking ahead in the rain. The amusement had vanished in the air, just like the tension which had previously clouded us. The air was tense between us for a different reason now. Something I couldn't put my finger on. Something I didn't understand...didn't want to understand. I was still staring at him, not caring about how it would look in the end.

Still looking in the rain, he replied, thoughtful. "Would you like to try, Aashi?"

It was like playing with fire. Speaking the unspoken, addressing what I hadn't addressed since almost a decade. Would I want to look for love in life, risking every relation I had known since childhood? Was I ready to give away my heart to someone I knew my parents wouldn't accept?

All the time, the question had felt too mature to answer at that point of time. At sixteen, I was just a teenager. At eighteen, I had just entered adulthood. At twenty two, I was still studying. And...at twenty seven? Could I get any more older?

Abeer had touched a nerve. And he seemed to realize that. But apart from looking a bit apologetic, he didn't say anything. Looking at Abeer, my mind came up with another conclusion.

'Would you like to try, Aashi?'

Had he just implied that-

My heart sped up. Though the rain eventually stopped my hormones kept raining that night.

What started as an insult battle ended us up in a dangerous place.

This time as we drove through the dark streets of Delhi, and struck those after-rain potholes, it wasn't just Abeer who went iron-stiff as I crashed on him. My entire anatomy froze every time I came in contact with him. My hands were still fiercely gripping his shoulder, refusing to travel downwards to hug his lean form. I was high on hormones. I knew I would end up doing something stupid if I didn't stop my treacherous hands from going anywhere from where they were.

It was a silent ride home. Parting words were also softly murmured, mostly consisting of 'thank you' and 'it was no problem'. But it was a lot of problem. It had put my emotional state in a dangerous spot. I had turned to leave but suddenly I stopped, and turned again to face Abeer.

His hair had dried out, making his curls fly in every direction. He got rid of his raincoat long ago, revealing his crisp white shirt hugging his lean form. Even though it was a drool-worthy sight, I forced my eyes to look upwards. "Umm...send me a text when you reach home. It has gotten quite late," I said to him, sounding so motherly that I cringed visibly. He just smiled.

"I will. Bye!" He said, and after a lingering look, he sped off on his bike, leaving me like the rain had left the streets tonight, messed but still purified in a bizarre way.

I had always known he wasn't healthy for me. My sex drive had doubled since I had met him, and it was getting too out of hand by the day. But it was not just about the sex drive and this fact was scarier to deal with.

He is toxic...he was poison.

A poison that made me feel an ethereal warmth, one that I hadn't experienced in my lifetime.

---------------------

Chashni: Sugar syrup

Rasagulla- a famous Bengali sweet

----------------------