Page 27 of Mrs. Pandey
"What happened to me?"
"You passed out," he said matter-of-factly, placing the cold cloth on my forehead and dabbing it gently.
I glanced at the window as the moon light was slipping through the curtain.
"You've been here the whole time?" I asked, surprised.
"Yes," he replied.
"Now pretending to be a good boss?" I rolled my eyes and brushed his hand away. "I'm fine now. You can leave."
"I know you're not," he said coolly, picking up the cloth again, dipping it in the water, wringing it out, and placing it back on my head.
"Stop doing this!" I hissed, yanking the cloth off and tossing it aside. "If you'd just approved my leave, I wouldn't have endedup like this. But I guess this is what you wanted, isn't it? To hurt me."
"Very much," he smirked and God, I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.
"Well, now that you're satisfied, you can go," I snapped, turning away from him.
"I'm not satisfied yet, Warrior," he said, his voice teasing. "I just wanted to crack that pride you carry around like armor. Turns out, you're not as strong as you pretend to be, are you?"
"Shut up and get out of here!" I snapped and looked myself down under cover. I stiffened. "Who changed my clothes?"
He didn't even blink. "Who do you think?"
My blood ran cold. "How dare you?" I grabbed the front of his shirt, jerking him closer, our faces inches apart. "How could you do that?"
"With my hands," he murmured, eyes drifting to my lips with a smirk that made my skin crawl and burn all at once.
I shoved him away roughly, clenching my jaw. "Get out of my house!"
"Is that how you speak to your superior?"
"I'm not on duty, which means you're not my superior right now. So get out, Prashant. Please... just go."
"You're not okay," he said, his tone shifting to softer. "And you have no one to look after you."
"Are you serious right now? What do you think people will say if they see you walking out of my quarter in the morning? You want rumors? Because that's how rumors start. So leave. Before someone sees us together under the same roof."
"No," he said firmly. "I'm not leaving. And you don't want me to go. Do you?"
"You've lost your mind!" I hissed, pressing my head into the pillow, willing the pain and him to disappear.
"Yes," he whispered. "Maybe I have."
I forced myself upright, dragging my sore body toward the bathroom. My back screamed in protest and I groaned, clutching the wall. Prashant tried to help, but I slapped his hand away and slammed the door shut behind me.
I sat in the tub for a long time, curling into myself, my knees pressed to my chest. The porcelain was cold beneath me, but not colder than the ache swelling in my heart. My eyes stung, but I held the tears in, biting the inside of my cheek.
I hated that he saw me like this. Weak. Vulnerable. I hated how he looked at me not with pity, not with hate, but something far scarier I was not ready to accept. One time he made me feel like his world swirled around me and another time he treated me like I was the most inconvenient mistake he had ever made. I didn't know what Prashant wanted from me, but I didn't want anything to do with him. He was my superior, and I was his subordinate, I just wanted our relationship to remain strictly professional.
Eventually, I stepped out, wrapping a towel around myself and padding back to the room. He was still there.
Of course he was.
I ignored him, sat in the bed, and reached for a painkiller. But before I could pop it in my mouth, his hand shot out and stopped me.
"You've been taking too many of these pills lately," Prashant said, plucking the medicine from my fist and tossing it away.
