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AGASTYA
Agastya stared at the fourth glass of whiskey he’d just poured himself. Drowning his sorrows had taken on a whole other meaning in the last couple of weeks. He managed to pretend to be a semi-functional human being during the day, but it was at night, when he returned to the suite of rooms they’d shared, or to his study like tonight, that he started to spiral…straight into a decanter of whiskey.
He took another sip, letting the fiery liquid burn its trail through his chest. She was well. He knew she was well because he pestered Naresh to in turn pester her head of security for information. She was well and, in her home, with her loving family. His lips twisted at the thought, a decidedly feral snarl rising inside him. He was her loving family, dammit, he thought with all the petulance of a mutinous five-year-old.
A creaking sound echoed in his quiet study and he looked up at the large double doors to see the door handle slowly turn. His brow raised at the sight. Harsh was out partying and his parents were asleep. The staff knew better than to disturb him at this hour of the night. So, who the hell was it?
The door swung open, and an apparition appeared. Agastya blinked. This one wasn’t wearing a white saree and holding a lantern but was no less fictional for it.
“Agastya?” She stepped into the darkened study, shutting the door behind her. The only light came from the table lamp he’d left on beside him, leaving them with only shadows for company.
He stared at her silhouette, his alcohol-soaked brain making it hard to comprehend what he was seeing.
She walked around his desk and stopped in front of where he was sitting.
“Agastya?” she said again, her voice uncertain as she looked down at him.
With a soft sigh, Agastya buried his face in her stomach, her hands instinctively going around him to cradle his head to her. This was a very nice dream, he decided. Four whiskeys must be the sweet spot. He should aim for this every night.
Her slim fingers ran through his hair, gently stroking and soothing.
“I’m so sorry,” he told Dream Veda. “If I could go back and do it all over again, I’d do it differently.”
“I know,” she said softly.
“I miss you horribly. I can’t stop thinking about you even for a minute,” he told her earnestly. “It’s awful and nothing makes it go away. It’s like a disease. You’re an incurable disease,” he informed her, the thought making a lot of sense to him.
“Am I?” Soft laughter filled her voice as she cradled his head to her. He nuzzled in closer, his cheek resting against the softness of her belly.
“Yes.” Happiness stole through him. He’d clearly lost his mind if his delusions were so realistic, but this deluded reality was a lot better than his actual one. So maybe he could just keep drinking and stay here forever.
“Agastya?” she said softly, going to her knees and cradling his face so he was looking directly into her beautiful eyes. “I’m really here.”
“Here where?” he asked, leaning in, and taking her mouth in a gentle kiss. The minute their lips touched, everything changed. The soft, dreamlike haze disappeared as the taste of her slammed through him. He moaned, spearing his fingers through her hair and tilting her head back for more access. If there was heaven on earth, it was right here.
Veda sighed, her own hand mapping his chest, sneaking under his t-shirt and tracing muscles he didn’t know he had.
Agastya ripped himself from her, his hands still cupping her face. He stared at her, chest heaving, breath rasping. “You’re here.”
“I’m here.” She smiled. “The incurable disease.”
He flushed, embarrassment flooding through him as the memory of his drunken words came back to him. He leaned back in the chair, watching her, feeling oddly unsettled.
“Why?” he asked baldly. “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to talk to you. Don’t you think it’s time we did?”
“I’ve been begging you to talk to me for weeks now.”
She raised one eyebrow at his comment. “Want me to go? If you don’t want me here, I can leave.”
“No!” His hand shot out and grabbed hers, anchoring her in place. She used her free hand to pick up the bottle of water on his table and held it out to him. If they were going to do this, he was going to need to sober up a bit and they both knew it.
“Why now?” he asked, taking the bottle and drinking half of it in one gulp.
“I needed space to work through my feelings. I wasn’t ready to listen before. I am now.”
He paused, capping the bottle of water and placing it on the desk.
