It was a dark night. You rarely got stormy ones during summer in #mumbai. I stood there, the sweat running down my back, rivulets tickling me by being in places they had no business being. He stood in front, gaping at me, the effect comical when you considered the cigarette dangling from his lips. His lips started to move but his eyes already shouted pity. My face flushed hotter than the weather and I mumbled something and ran inside, half hoping he'd call me back. He didn't and I tripped over a step in the dark, cursing mankind, mostly #men, and especially men who flirted with you and then pretended like they didn't understand why you now liked them. #shortstory #instastory #fiction
The lift pinged.
The doors slid open.
He stood there, coffee cup in hand.
She sauntered in, her bag in one hand and coat in the other.
“New perfume?” He was smiling.
“Maybe.” She was smiling too.
“It’s a little faint,” he said, still looking at the floor numbers.
“Funny. Every time I breathe, I get it,” she replied and took a deep, deep, meaningful breath.
Very slowly, he turned his head back. Stood stock still for a couple of seconds. And then cleared his throat.
“Ah. So its…”
“Yes,” she said, quite simply. Smiling.
“Well. You always did have a flair for…finding the right…niche.” He seemed to be struggling.
She bit her lip to stop from smiling even more broadly. “Really? We’re going to trade pseudo entendres?”
He grinned. “I’m trying not to be indiscreet.”
She grinned too. “Really? Why?”
His grin looked like it would split his face in half. “Good point. By the way, I’d really like to…take in the fragrance…you know?”
“Oh really? Here.” She popped the bottle out of her bag and presented it to him.
He smirked. Took it. And sprayed it on his chest. Her jaw dropped.
“There. We’re even now,” he said.
She started laughing. And the lift doors opened.