Chapter 11: Colors

[A/N: Hmm, So kaafi dhamkiyaan mili, ki yeh series end naa ho. Hmmm.. Okay! ^_^]

"Kria, what's your favorite color?" He asks.

She looks at him. And thinks what she should answer. The real answer may not be the one he is expecting. Should she tell him the truth? Would he read on too much into it and then maybe he'd think that she doesn't fit in into the proper mindset of an ideal girl he has and then dump her?

These thoughts run into her head at the speed of a million miles per millisecond, and she panics and stresses inside but doesn't let it show on surface.

She opens her mouth, and just gives in.

She just can't take the risk of exposing herself bare naked right now to him, and goes with what she thinks his ideal girl is.

"Pink..." She answers.

"Pink?" He asks, a crease forming on his forehead.

She panics some more inside, gulping down the fear that is arising in the back of her head.

Was this not the perfect answer he was expecting? What was he expecting then? What was she supposed to say? Was he bored with her already? It had only been days... He couldn't be bored so early.. Could he?

She tries not to show it on the surface, but its hell in her mind right now.

This is why she hates falling for a man.

It makes you weak.

It makes you question yourself a million times.

And worst of it all, it makes you lose yourself in him.

All your insecurities, all your fears, are just multiplied by infinity and thrashed into your face.

"Why Pink?" He asks.

This is when she is almost close to tears and wants to smack something in the head. Why is he fixating so much on a bloody color? Just let it be goddammit!

"Cause Pink is what most girls like!" She blurts out. She doesn't like her answer one bit. And just prays that he leaves this topic. What is with him!

His forehead creases again, as he looks on with those amazing hazel eyes into hers.

She feels a shiver running in her spine, and doesn't understand why he is gazing at her like that.

"You aren't like most girls." He says, and then goes eerily quiet.

She looks downwards. She shouldn't have doubted his abilities to read her in the first place.

He knows her. Or maybe reads her. How does he do that?

And what good would it bring to him if she told him her favorite color?

His breathing carries on stealthily, as they sit in the fire exit for a few minutes. She looks on everywhere but him, and he senses that she is uncomfortable right now.

-x-x-x-x-

Why does she do that with him?

Does she not understand that even before she had started talking properly to him, he had fallen head over heels for her?

Even before anyone knew, he had known.

He had known she was different.

He had known she was amazing.

He had known so very much, without knowing anything at all.

So here, right now... To be able to ask things to her, was a bliss.

He didn't really need an answer. Nope, the only thing he needed was for her to be honest.

And ohh well, a little bit of the answers he needed. After all, he wanted to pamper her.

So, in future, he wanted to know what she liked so that he could get those things to her.

What if she didn't like Yellow, and he got her a Yellow clutch?

Wouldn't that be bad?

He wanted to be perfect for her...

So then why! Why was she being so difficult?

Why was she not being honest?

What harm would her being honest about her likes and dislikes bring?

-x-x-x-x-

"Mera favorite color Orange hai..." He utters.

She stares on in shock for a second, and then breaks into a smile.

"Orange?" She asks, she hadn't pegged him to be an orange.

"Haan! Orange!" He replies with pride.

'Mujhe laga tha Red hoga..."She says, this time honest, and feeling a little at ease.

"Kyun? Red Kyun?" He asks.

"Kyunki aap waise hi hai... Attention sabka hamesha aap pe hi hota hai." She replies.

He smiles. That wide toothy grin of his that makes her heart to Olympic level Somersaults. She remembers that it'd be a very foolish thing to hyperventilate and fall there in his arms.

"Tumhara bhi?" He asks back, his smile turning its wattage a notch higher than usual.

She blushes prettily. What is she supposed to reply to that?

"Aap ko mera favorite color nahi jaanna?" She tries to avoid answering that question.

"Pink hai naa.. Ab toh tumhe Pink frocks hi dilaaunga." He teases. And she slaps his back.

"Nahi!" She screams at him, and he laughs.

The sound of his laughter really does wonderful things to her heart.

And then she suddenly feels ashamed of thinking that she shouldn't open up to him.

He was so unabashedly honest with her, right down to his insecurities. He had laid them bare for her to judge. And she? She was being unfair, thinking that he'd judge her on the matter of a measly color.

She moves closer to him, almost touching the length of his body.

He realizes her proximity, and his hand hovers on her cheek.

"Black..." She utters.

He smiles back in return. Those honest smiles of his are so rare that one could lock them up in a bank.

"Black kyun?" He asks on, as his hand grazes lazy lines over her cheek.

"Because it is the most beautiful of all colors, without being a color." She replies.

And his fingers reach for her lips. He grazes them, marveling at the answer she gave him.

Yes, this was his Kria. She was mystical. She was unpredictable. She was beautiful.

"Aapko pata chal jaata hai naa.." Her lips move under his fingers, and for some reason he can't take his eyes off of those lips right now.

"Kya pata chal jaata hai?" He breathes, his voice low.

"Ki Kab mai sach bol rahi hu..." She replies, and her rosy buds are doing black magic on his fingers.

"Nahi..." He says, "Mujhe pata hai meri Kria kab meri hoti hai, aur kab khud ki.."

With saying that, he claims her lips under his own. He kisses her with a rhythm that he finds soothing and tries to inject peace into her soul as well in that moment. He sucks her rose colored soft lips, trying to fully taste the nectar they hold.

Minutes later, as he catches his breath, he asks,

"Kria, what's your favorite flavor?"