Chapter 3: Confessions and Barriers

[Arey, dekh lo! Madam full daring ho gayi.]

[Kuch log toh pehle se hi wild soch rahe hain—tongue piercing, wah wah.]

[So bold~]

[Kabir bhi toh apna tongue piercing dikhaye!]

Kabir’s Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice rough: "Pakka na?"

I wasn’t sure at all. So I changed the topic: "Can I see your tongue piercing first?"

I’d noticed before that Kabir had one, but never got a good look.

Kabir’s breathing deepened. He pressed the tip of his tongue against his cheek, and I couldn’t help but stare at his lips, my ears burning. For a second, I wondered if Amma would faint if she saw me like this. I also wondered, would it poke?

Then, Kabir slowly stuck out his tongue with a mischievous glint—like a kid showing off a new cricket trophy. The stud gleamed in the fluorescent light, a bold flash against the pink of his tongue. Kabir’s looks were always a bit aggressive, his gaze full of challenge. But right now, his posture was oddly cute, almost like a puppy waiting for approval.

"Accha lag raha hai?"

That illusion shattered as soon as he spoke. I blinked and nodded blankly.

"Looks good. Very sexy."

Kabir’s eyes curved, his tone suddenly gentle: "Par tumpe suit nahi karega. Tongue piercing bohot dard deta hai."

…

Last time, I’d only managed the cartilage piercing because it hurt so much.

"Oh. That’s… too bad."

But inside, I let out a sigh of relief. Kabir seemed to see right through me, but didn’t expose me.

He straightened up, looking especially pleased with himself. He tapped the back of my hand with his knuckle, a simple gesture that made my heart do somersaults.

"Chalo, pehle clean and disinfect kar dete hain."

I followed him and sat down, just like last time. But it felt different—closer, somehow.

He said, "Aage se mujhe dekhna hai toh seedha aa jao, apni sehat se mat khelo."

"Okay," I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper. I wanted to hide my face behind my hair.

Kabir sat beside me, and I could only glance at him from the corner of my eye. His hands—now in rubber gloves—were methodically removing my earring, rinsing, and disinfecting. I noticed a faint scar on his wrist, the kind you get from falling off a cycle or Diwali crackers. I wondered what his story was.

"Thoda lagega, seh lo," he said, rinsing my ear.

"Mm."

But I didn’t expect—

"Madam, you keep coming to see me. Tumhare fiancé ko bura nahi lagega kya?"

"Huh?"

The topic changed so quickly, I was caught off guard. Kabir, meanwhile, looked calm, his tone steady. Only his cleaning movements were a bit rougher. Was he… nervous too?

I watched a bead of sweat trickle down his temple—maybe it was just Mumbai humidity, but I wanted to believe I was the reason.

Barrage:

[Kabir ka haath kaanp raha hai, andar se toofan hai. Khud se keh raha hai—bas, aur nahi, warna sab kuch khatam ho jayega.]

[Agar heroine baar-baar na aati, Kabir toh baat bhi nahi karta. Upar se fiancé Mumbai ka rich boy, insecurity full on.]

[Kabir be like: Madam, main toh dusra pati banne ko bhi ready hoon, bas bula lo!]

[Bas karo yeh bickering couple drama—thoda bold romance dikhao!]

The male lead… is that supposed to be my so-called fiancé, Aryan Singh?

"Actually, I don’t…"

Halfway through, my phone rang. Caller: Fiancé.