"Niche ka kaha hai?"

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I immediately let go of Aariv's arm and moved away from him as soon as we entered my house. I wiped away my tears, dusting my clothes off. My skin was feeling so itchy due to all the blood.

Disgusting.

My face scrunched in disgust as I looked at myself. I needed to take a good bath. I looked up to see the two men staring at me.

Their expressions were a mixture of disbelief and… something bordering on amusement.

Aariv had his arms crossed, leaning slightly against the wall like he had all the time in the world. His shirt was still stained from the scuffle, but he looked far too calm for someone who’d just escaped a potential police case.

But then again, this man doesn't even know what a police case is or how much it weighs.

His eyes scanned me from top to bottom—taking in my torn sleeves, wrinkled clothes, the fake tears now wiped off, blood spurred, and the sheer drama I’d just pulled.

The other man—Prem—looked like he’d just watched a live telecast of a crime thriller, and wasn’t sure whether to clap or call for a psychologist.

"Kitni durth, nirlaj aur behaya stree ho tum." Aariv shook his head, clicking his tongue in distaste. As if I cared what he thought about me.

"Maine woh tumhe bachane ke liye kiya tha, thik hai." I said, rolling my eyes. Lie. I did that to save myself and Prem. Aariv raised an eyebrow as if to say, 'Oh, really?'. He didn't believe it. Meh, who cares?

“You should get a Filmfare,” Prem said after a beat, eyes wide. “No. Actually—National Award. Straight up for that stunt that you pulled.” He taunted sarcastically.

I didn't say anything. He huffed overexagerated. "Nandini, do you even know what you did? You lied to the officers about something so huge! What if they found out the truth?" He scolded me as usual. His face was so red. He looked like he's gonna burst any moment now.

I exhaled, unbothered. "How will they find out? Who's gonna tell them? Those goons?" I said, scrunching my face. "You think the police would believe them over me?" I scoffed, pointing a finger towards myself.

"This is India, brother." I deadpanned, shaking my head. Being in the legal field for so many years, I know how it works. Or rather, I know how to make it work.

"Still, Nandini, you're having them be punished for a crime they never did." He tried to reason. His tone was calm now, trying to make me understand the weight of my actions. I don't need the logical, moralistic bullshit right now.

And besides, would he rather us being in jail?

"So?" I raised an eyebrow, nonchalantly. "It's not like they are angels decended from heaven. They are goons, and god knows what business they do in the darkness of the night. In a way, I did do a favor to your 'society'. So don't start with me now."

Morals. I never work with 'society's morals'. Rather, I have made my own morals. Some of them being:

First, it's you against the world. Always. Nothing in between.

Second, money and power are everything. Without them, you're nothing but a gum stuck on the road.

Third, trust is a luxury I can't afford.

Fourth, the 'society' is a bitch.

Their 'morals' are only limited to saying. When it comes to implying them, you'll see them turn blind momentarily. Because in the end, everyone is selfish.

Now, I'm not saying I'm exactly a saint either. Maybe I'm the devil, villianess, bitch, monster, demon, or whatever they call them. I am amongst them, too. But at least I don't fake my morals, then flip over them at times. I'm decent enough to stick to them.

Prem sighed defeatedly. Like always. I turned towards Aariv, who was leaning against the wall, looking at me intensely with a look, I couldn't decipher.

"Toh, kab nikal rahe ho yaha se?" I crossed my arm and asked him, biting my inner cheek.

He took a step forward, leisurely, like he had all the time of the world. "Tum itni khal aur kapati stree hone ke bawajud itni besudh kaise ho sakti ho?" He asked, lips curling in amusement.

I scrunched. What in the heavy language were these words? Where is my damn phone? "He said, how can you be so unknown to things while being the most cunning and evil woman?" Prem translated it for me, looking at his phone.

"Excuse me? Kya matlab hai tumhara, huh?" I asked Aariv provocatively, narrowing my eyes as if I was ready to throw hands. And then get myself killed. Because no way, I would survive in a fight with him. Not after, what I saw previously tonight.

He shook his head as if looking down on me, on ME. "Humare kehne ka arth hai, suna nhi tha us khaki wardi wale nar ne kya kaha?" He asked, as if it was the most obvious thing.

"Ya kahe ki tumne usse kya kaha. Smaran hai ya smaran karaye?" He said with cockiness in his voice. Well, I did say a lot of things to him. What about it?

He clicked his tongue, making a 'tch' sound. I think he got the hint that he needed to remind me by my expressions. "Tumne usse kaha ki hum tumhare pati hai." He said with a slight smirk.

"Aur usne tumse kaha ki hume," He pointed his finger between the two of us. "Ek mah tak unke kisi thane mein ja kar woh s-sihg," He bit his tongue, trying to say the word, but left it when he couldn't. "Kuch toh karna hoga."

Oh fuck.

Now, I'll have to deal with his shit for a whole month. I sighed, accepting my fate. I did this myself. There's no one else to blame now.

I looked up to him, who was standing there, all smug, with a smirk. I looked at Prem, who was standing there with an expression that said, 'You brought it upon yourself, deal with it.'

Traitor.

"Fine, tum yaha ek mahine tak reh sakte ho. Lekin.." I paused, giving them time to digest. "Usse zyada yaha rehne ki sochna bhi mat." I said, warningly. "Aur usse pehle ye sab saaf karo, chalo, jaldi. Jhadu us corner mein rakha hai." I said casually.

He gave me a look. "Ye hum saaf karenge?" He said, gesturing towards the literal bloody mess that HE created. 

I nodded. "Ha, nhi toh kya tumhare baap-chacha ayenge saaf karne?" I taunted, rolling my eyes. His expressions darkened as he took a step forward towards me. I instinctively took a step back.

"Humare pita ko isme lane ki koi awasakta nhi hai." He stated, his voice dangerously low and warningful. "Aur hum? Saafai karenge?" He scoffed. "Kabhi nhi." He declared.

"Kyu?" I asked stubbornly. "Jab ye kiya tumne hai toh saaf bhi tumhi karoge na." I stated the obvious.

"Shayad aapko smaran rahi hai, kintu hum Raja hai. Hum aise karya nhi karte." He stated with a finality.

"Nhi karte, toh karna padega kyuki reality mein tum bas ek delusional namune ho aur kuch nhi." I retorted, arguing back with the same tone.

"Tumhara itna dussahas tum hume namuna kahogi, dusht kahi ki." He said, looking me up and down, disapprovingly.

I gasped. "Dusht? Kon mai? Arre, jao, jao, tum dusht, tumhara pura khandan dusht." I took a step forward, pointing a finger towards him.

"Humare khandan par jane kya dussahas mat kariyega." He warned, taking a step forward, narrowing his eyes.

"Kyu? Meri marzi, mai toh jaungi." I stated stubbornly, taking a step forward myself, crossing my arms.

"Marg mein hume samne paogi." He gritted out, taking a step forward again.

"Ha, toh, darti thodi hu tumse." I spat, closing the remaing distance. Now, we were standing toe-to-toe, glaring at each other like soul-enemies from some past life.

He was looking down at me while I was craning my neck up. It was uncomfortable. But I wasn't one to back down. Gods, I barely reached his chest.

A few moments passed, but none of us blinked, nor did we reduce the intensity of our glares. We were till boring holes in each others skulls, still trying to dig each other's graves.

It was when Prem stepped in between and pushed us back that our little glaring competition broke. "Enough, now you two. Ye koi jhagad ne time nhi hai. Aur rahi baat safai karne ki toh woh toh sab karenga. Raja ho," he said, turning towards Aariv, then turned towards me. "Ya vakil." He finished.

Prem, always the diplomatic, problem-resolving mature dude in any situation. I bit my inner cheek, rolling my eyes, but I knew what he said was what we had to do.

Prem turned towards, raising an eyebrow expectantly. I nodded reluctantly. He then turned towards Aariv doing the same, who nodded back gruffly.

__________________________

I woke up next morning. No, actually, I checked the time. I woke up in the afternoon. Well, it was expected after yesterday's chaos.

Last night, we cleaned the whole house up, with me and Aariv bickering in between, and Prem trying to dissolve the topic like a wise teacher.

We gave Aariv the restroom that was beside my and Prem's room. So basically, the structure of my house was such that it was a two story house, with the first floor having the kitchen, study, dining room, 2 extra spare rooms. And then the 2nd floor, that only had 3 rooms. The main and the biggest being mine, the second one being Prem’s, and now the third one being Aariv's.

Aariv and my room were beside each other, while Prem's was the opposite of us. In the middle of our room, there was a couch and two single couches with a tea table kept in between.

I should've given Aariv the rooms from downstairs. But there were two reasons not to. First, I didn't trust him. What if he steaks something and runs away? Second, the rooms were not cleaned. And we were too tired to clean that.

I walked towards my bathroom to do my morning business and take a bath. A long, leisure one.

After a while,

I came downstairs to see the two men already seated down on the sofa. Prem was busy on his phone. While Aariv was looking at remote as if it was Ariel's father with long slick legs, with pencil heels on, short pink skirt, red lipstick, those mermaid shells over his nipples.

Aariv was wearing Prem's T-shirt, which clearly looked twice less than his size due to his muscles. That T-shirt fitted muscular body so tightly all of his abs and those hard muscles were on display.

Again, how much gym and protein boxes did this man consume to have this body?

As I much as I don't approve crazy strangers in my house. I had to deal with this. But not for long, just a month. And then I'll send him somewhere from where the return would be nearly impossible.

I approached them. They turned their faces in my direction, hearing my footsteps. Prem's expressions were casual, while for some reason, Aariv's eyes widened, looking at me.

He gasped, nearly dropping the remote he quickly averted his eyes. I frowned at his behavior. Apart from being full-time mentally ill, does he get part-time seizures like this, too?

"Aap.. Apko ko tanik bhi lajja nhi aati hai kya?" He asked, more like accused me. My frown deepened. Hey, I didn't even do anything this time.

"Kya bakk rahe ho?" I snapped in confusion.

He looked at me for a mere second before dropping his gaze on the floor again. He meekly gestured towards my clothes. "Kisi paraye purush ke samaksh yu nirvastra aane mein aapko lajja ki anibhoti nhi huyi?" He accused, gritting his teeth. "Had hai! Koi stree itni nirlaj aur behaya kaise ho sakti hai?"

Huh?

I looked down. I was wearing the right amount of clothes needed. I looked decent. What was he talking about? Dimaag finally pura kharab ho gya hai?

"Kya bolre ho? Kapde pehne toh hai maine?" I said in annoyance.

"Toh niche ka kaha hai? Woh dharan karna gyat nhi raha kya?" He barked, his eyes flashing with disgusted disbelief. Prem chuckled beside him.

My brows furrowed. “Niche ka…?”

I looked down again, more carefully this time, and then I realised what he was referring to.

The oversized shirt and some shorts I had thrown on in a rush barely reached mid-thigh. The shorts were hidden underneath the shirt.

And since I was in my own house, minding my own damn business, I hadn’t exactly bothered with—well, let’s just say the traditional bottom wear to please the 'King' living in my house now.

But still, it wasn’t that scandalous. It was a shirt. Not lingerie.

“Oh for god’s sake,” I muttered, throwing my hands up in exasperation. I rolled my eyes at his overexagerated reaction. "Niche ka bhi pehna hai maine. Nisvastra nhi hu mai, samjhe?"

His expression didn’t budge. If anything, it darkened. "Accha?" He said sarcastically. "Toh phir dikhayi kyu nhi de raha? Iske toh yahi arth ho sakta ya toh woh vastra jo aapne 'pehna' hai niche woh adrishya hai, ya toh hum drishtihin ho gye hai." He taunted.

This ba—

I huffed in annoyance. "Listen, King Bhoj ka bootleg version, mujhe lecture mat do. Aur maine sach mein pehna hai. Ye dekho," I held the hem of my shirt to lift it up to show him my shorts.

As I lifted my shirt up, he closed his eyes and turned 180⁰ opposite of me. "Chi, chi, chi, ye kya tucha harkat hai?! Aap aapne apni lajja bhej khayi hogi, humne nhi. Aapko tanik bhi lajja nhi aati na. Aise khule mein kisi ko ye sab dekha rahi hai." He spat, disgustingly.

What? I was showing him my shorts that he insisted was invisible to himan eyes. Then why is he—wait, did he think I was showing him my p—

Arghhhhhh!

Chi, chi, chi!

Itna ganda hai ye aadmi!

"Chi, kitne gande ho tum!" I yelled in annoyance and embarrassed. My cheeks flushed. I am sure they are as red as tomato now.

"Gandi harkatein aap kare, aur gande hum hue. Ye kya tark hua bhala?" He argued, still covering his eyes with his hands, turning to the opposite side from me.

"Maine koi gandi harkat nhi ki, thik hai? Mai toh bas tumhe apne niche ka dekha rahi thi! Idiot, pervert, creep, gande kahi ke!" I hissed, boring holes in his skull from back.

"Kya?!" He looked appalled as he turned briefly but quickly turned back as well. "Swayam ko sunai de raha hai kya keh rahi hai aap?" He asked in disbelief.

"Aapne kaha 'Mai toh bas tumhe apne nicha ka dekha rahi thi', hume nhi dekha aapka kuch bhi. Na niche ka, na upar ka." He gritted out.

What the—I didn't mean it like that! I looked over at Prem, who was now dying out of laughter on the couch on the verge of falling down.

I half huffed, half scoffed exaggeratedly. "Mera matlab tha ki mai tumhe apne niche ke vastra dikha rahi thi!" I hissed again, emphasizing each word like it would magically fix the embarrassment that was currently burning my soul alive.

Aariv looked like he was two seconds away from combusting. “Aap samajhti bhi hain ki aap kya keh rahi hain?” he barked, hands clenching at his sides. “Ye vastra-pradarshan ka tareeka hai tum logon ka?”

Vastra-pradarshan ka kya? Oh god. I swear, this man will drive me insane one day!

“Tum logon ka?” I narrowed my eyes, marching towards him as Prem wheezed like an asthma patient in the background. “Suno tum, kal yug ke kathor samrat. Jyada idhar-udhar ki sochne ki koi zarorat nhi hai. Pata nhi kya laga rakha hai. Pradarshan, vastra, nirvastra, hatt! Maine jitne kapde pehene the, pehne hai, thik hai.”

Aariv turned to me fully now, expression pinched like he just swallowed a lemon. “Tumne swayam kaha ki tum mujhe—tum mujhe—” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, his jaw clenched tight, eyes flashing. “Apne niche ka—”

“Vastra!” I cut him off sharply, my face probably redder than a damn tomato. “Niche ka vastra!” I gestured wildly at my shorts. “Yeh! Yeh dikha rahi thi! Kyunki tum chilla rahe the ki maine kuch pehna nahi hai!”

Prem actually fell off the couch at that point, wheezing and pounding the floor like this was a stand-up special.

“Prem, I swear, I'll kill you if you don't stop laughing this instant!” I shrieked in pure humiliation.

“Main… main toh sirf… niche ka vastra—” he choked between laughs.

Aariv’s nostrils flared. “Yeh sab tum dono ko maskari lagti hai?” he thundered. “Aise kisi ke samaksh is prakar ki avastha mein aakar—!”

“Oh my god, shut up!” I threw my hands in the air. "Jis pagalkhane se bhage ho please waha wapis chale jao, aur meri jaan bhaksho."

He looked positively wounded. His brows shot up, lips parted slightly in mock betrayal. “Nahi ja sakte,” he said coldly, voice low and edged with irritation. “Jab tak aap humare liye humara wapis apne rajya jaane ka marg nahi dhoondh deti, nahi ja rahe hum. Yahin rahenge. Samjhi?”

His eyes were on my face. I could tell he was trying hard not to let them wander down towards my legs.

He narrowed his eyes, his intense gaze burning a hole through my face—but, to his credit, it didn’t stray. Not even once.

“Great,” I muttered, "Meri zindagi mein issi ki toh kami thi! Ek pagal namune ki." I gritted out.

"Aur humare jivan mein apki. Ek nirlaj stree ki." He retorted back.

“Tum basically mere flat pe illegal invasion kar chuke ho. Congratulations. Shall I call the cops or just send them your ancient Google Maps coordinates to the 1600s?” I asked sarcastically, titling my head mockingly.

He clenched his jaw. “Aap jitni zubaan chala rahi hain, uska aadha bhi yadi us vidhwaan jaisi buddhi mein laga deti, toh shayad main kal tak wapas apne samay mein hota.” he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Excuse me?” I placed a hand on my hip. “First of all, I am a lawyer, not your time-traveling GPS. And second, you can’t just crash here and expect me to magically Google ‘how to send a medieval king back to his drama-ridden empire’.”

He didn’t respond. I could tell by the look on his face that he didn't get anything I had said just now. He didn't respond to anything after that. He just continued staring at me with that brooding, judging, painfully stoic expression.

"And why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, annoyed again. I hissed as I realised. "Mera matlab mujhe aise kyu dekh rahe ho?"

"Kyuki jab koi stree aise kapdon mein samne khadi hoti hai, tab purush ki nazar ka jhuk jaana hi uska samman hai," he said with so much earnest seriousness that I almost choked on air.

“I—what? That doesn't even make sense!” I twisted my face.

“Yug badal gaya hai, par maryada toh wahi hai,” he muttered, as if the line belonged on a vintage coin.

I turned on my heel and walked toward the kitchen. “Great. Maryada ko coffee chahiye toh batana. Baaki yahan fridge mein kuch snacks pade hain. Feel free to moral-police them, too.”

I was done dealing with his shit for today. Idiot.

Behind me, I heard Prem’s voice from the couch. “Nandini, tu iske saath rahegi na toh ya to pagal ho jayegi… ya shaadi kar legi.” he said between his laughs. His tone was joking.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Aariv turned toward Prem with narrowed eyes. “Shaadi?” he repeated slowly.

I grabbed a pan. “No. No one is marrying anyone. Especially not some displaced royal purush who thinks legs are a crime.” I said, twisting my face in distaste at the thought of marrying him.

Aariv froze, staring between Prem and me with unknown expression. "Ek shan," he said. Then paused. "Iska arth aap dono vivahit nhi hai?" He asked in amusement, disbelief and something else, I couldn't decipher.

Prem gave him a weird look and chuckled. Igace him a dead look. "Tumhe aisa kyu lagta hai ki hum dono," I pointed my finger between Prem and myself. "Shadisuda hai?" I finished raising an eyebrow waiting for his answer.

His expressions neutraled. "Iska arth aap dono bina vivah ke saath reh rahe hai." I said, as if trying to make himself believe it more than us.

But oh god, no, not again.

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Guys, one quick question, okay?

Aapko pata hai niche kya hai?

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Niche vote ka option aur comment box hai — sirf aur sirf aap logo ke liye.

So, come on, be quick, go vote comment like a good reader.

Anyway, have a good day, or night, whenever you're reading this.

Wish me the same in the comments, too :)

Adios, Mio Mariposas🦋