Page 28 of A Lab Rat's Guide to Fated Love
For science.
No other reason.
No other reason.
Seven
Alfredo Sauce and
Thermochromic Cats
December 2018:
Shoja, Himachal Pradesh
Vir
Nori sat hunched over her laptopat her routine spot in the living room. Her keyboard’s furious click-clacks traveled all the way to the partly cracked bedroom door, where Vir hesitated, his hand hovering over the handle.
He knew the exact scenario that would play out once he walked out the door: He’d step into the living room, take a seat, and watch Nori spring from hers as if on cue. She’d then politely excuse herself and escape to a different area of the house—the study, the bedroom, the garden. Anywhere, as long as it was away from wherever he was.
It had been an entire week of this, whatever this was. Nori seemed hellbent on avoiding him for some reason. But she was also frustratingly polite with her pretense of suddenly needing to be somewhere else as soon as she spotted him in her periphery. Every. Single. Time.
She’d also become more guarded with her emotions since she’d found out about his ability to read them, making her otherwise vibrant inner workings nearly as stoic as her carefully poised façade. She barely tolerated his company during their late afternoon walks, but only because he needed the mandatory daily quota of movement and sun. And even then, her silence was too loud to leave room for conversation.
Vir ran his hand through his freshly washed hair, tousling the damp strands between his fingers before flicking them away from his face. It was nearly time for lunch. Maybe he could try striking a conversation while they ate.Beforeshe scarfed her meal in five seconds flat and bolted to another room.
If he cooked something she’d want a second helping of—three-cheese mushroom pasta with extra sauce, obviously—and throw in questions about the one thing Dr. Nori Arya could never resist talking about… her one true weakness… her cat, Goober. Or any cat, really. But especially Goober.
Right. He could start by asking if she’d like some pasta for lunch. Only with the casual nonchalance of the most nonchalant guy in the existence of humankind.
And then, right as her thoughts begin to drift towards golden browned mushrooms in creamy Alfredo sauce, he’d swoop in with, “So, I’ve been thinking about those color changing cats you mentioned earlier…”
“You mean thermochromic cats?” she’d say before launching into the dynamics of temperature versus cat fur, complete with goo-goo eyes and animated hand gestures. The way she would’ve done a week ago, before she’d decided that Vir was the plague and was to be avoided as such.
Thermochromic cats? She wouldn’t stand a chance.
In Nori’s books, there wasn’t a single thing about felines that wasn’t a fascinating fact and downright adorable. Right down to the way they unsheathed their needle-like claws before ripping apart an ugly couch to turn it into modern art. Or how most of them preferred taking a dump while standing on their hind legs like a person. With their nose scrunched up in disgust as if they couldn’t stand the stench of their own crap while they did it. The visual of Goober standing upright, shitting in his litter box, was permanently seared into Vir’s brain ever sinceNori had shown him a video of it.
The memory of her sifting through his pictures while her eyes glazed over with unfiltered fondness made Vir wish he were a cat, too. At least she wasn’t allergic tothem.
He barked out a soundless laugh.
Of all the things in the world he could possibly be jealous of, Vir was jealous of a damn cat. It didn’t matter, though. His plan was solid.
Nori was going to be serving him feline facts well before he’d served her any food.
With a determined smirk, Vir pulled the door open.
Be cool,he reminded himself as he started towards her.Pasta first, then cats.
As if he’d called her by name, Nori’s head whipped in his direction.
Pasta. Cats.
Two bright spots of pink appeared on her cheeks, and her shocked brown eyes darted to his hair before dipping down to his face and quickly away.
Pasta. Cats.
