Page 20 of A Lab Rat's Guide to Fated Love
He handed her a cup of water and she took a sip, while scanning his features for warning signs. He looked ghostly pale, but seemed okay otherwise. Then she noticed her medical kit beside the candle-tray.
“What happened?” she asked.
“The cut on your shin wasn’t just a scrape. I had to give you seven stitches.” He cleared his throat. “Earlier, you weren’t answering, and I felt—you passed out right as I pulled the door.” He went quiet.
Nori tried peeking at his expression, but he turned to look for something in the backpack behind him and refused to look at her again.
Wait… stitches?
“You know how to suture a wound?” Of course he did. She’d almost forgotten that bit.
He shrugged before ripping open a packet of savory croissants. He handed one to her. They ate the rest of their meal in silence while Vir kept stealing glances at her every few seconds.
“I’m not dying, you know,” she joked. “I won’t leave you stranded here. Don’t worry.” Then softer, “Seriously, I’m fine. And thank you.”
“Okay.” He sighed, not taking his eyes off her. “Eat, please.”
A while later, Nori excused herself and took one of the candle jars with her to the living room. She wanted to finish drafting her email to inform Tanya she was going to continue the experiment with Vir at an undisclosed location because of safety concerns at the university premises, and that she would keep her updated on any progress on a need-to-know basis only. She knew how important the experiment was for the university’s reputation and just how much they stood to gain with its success. So, they wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it for now. But if it failed, the consequences would be hers to bear alone. She decided to worry about that later.
Taking a seat on the couch, she grimaced at her blank laptop screen when it refused to turn back on. She settled for scribbling her notes on paper in the dim glow of the candle, while its muted floral notes hung in the air around her like a warm hug. The jar hadFrangipani Rosescrawled in her grandfather’s messy handwriting on the brown craft-label taped across it. He used to have a new hobby every few months—crochet, pickling, herb gardening. Making these candles for Grandma had been his last one before he’d passed away a few years ago.
Nori smiled wistfully as she carried the jar back before pausing at the bedroom door to find Vir lying curled up on one side of the bed, fast asleep. Tiptoeing to his side, she pulled the blanket over him and pursed her lips at all the empty space beside him. There was a spare mattress and extra blankets in the storage, but she’d have to bring the utility ladder in from the garage to get those down.
Suppressing a groan, she hobbled back to the couch outside. She’d have to discuss sleeping arrangements with him tomorrow. But for now, this had to do. Her eyelids grew heavy as she watched the flame from the candle sway from side to side without a draft. A small voice somewhere in the back of her head reminded her to tell Vir something.
Warn him… yes.She closed her eyes.
She was safe. She had nothing to fear. It didn’t feel like a lie when she reminded herself this time.
Five
Not a Mind Reader
November 2018:
Shoja, Himachal Pradesh
Vir
Vir beamed at the woman beforehim and her lips parted in response, giving way to her full, wide smile. She leaned closer to whisper something in his ear while their fingers brushed together. Smoke and mist. Fire and ice. Her words made him laugh. And his replies elicited a similar response from her.
When his eyes fluttered open to the sun warming his face, he could still hear the lilt of her trailing voice. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to remember her name, their words, anything. But it all slipped away, the way it always did.
He suppressed a groan as he pushed himself upright. His body ached all over. As if every single muscle had been wrung like a wet towel and then some. He stretched his limbs out in front of him and his joints popped noisily. As hedragged himself out of bed, subtle waves of Nori’s presence ebbed and flowed lazily around him.
It was concerning how acutely he was able to pick on her mood now, even when she wasn’t physically in the same room as him. Even when he wasn’t actively trying to sense her emotions at all.
He had to set up boundaries. Concrete ones. And fast.
After a quick shower, Vir braced himself before he walked out into the living room. He found Nori standing by the kitchen window, sunlight bathing her slender frame. She turned at the sound of his footsteps.
“I was about to wake you,” she said, hobbling awkwardly towards him. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” He frowned. Did her leg hurt? He hadn’t found any painkillers in her medical kit last night. Maybe he should’ve searched in one of her other bags.
“Fine?” Nori took his wrist between her thumb and forefinger, her eyes glued to her watch. “We’re not exchanging pleasantries. Do you have bruising anywhere? Nausea? Localized pain? Soreness?”
“No nausea or bruising.” He shrugged. “My body feels sore. Like after a particularly hard gym day. Times ten. But nothing else.”
