With gritted teeth, Vansh raised a fist towards my direction, but then retracted his hand, mumbling, “Can't hit a woman, can't hit a woman...”
I tittered at that. He was funny although it was funnier how casually we were speaking now. Until that party, we never spoke anything beyond the mundane. It was entirely my doing though. Don't ask me why. 
As we walked further, we came across a series of similar buildings painted in grey and dull red with black glass windows. Vansh spoke first. “Do you know which builders designed these sets of residential apartments?” 
“Nope. No idea. They look good though.” 
“Yup, they were designed by Dorchester Builds,” Vansh answered, tucking his hands in his pockets. “It's an old architectural company actually. They were known for their traditional European architecture but in recent years they have broadened their catalogue to modern and fusion. Their hi온라인카지노게임 goes way back...”
Henceforth, Vansh recited an interesting back온라인카지노게임 about the development of Dorchester Builds and their extensive business. We even derailed from the path to explore more European structures built by them in the area. Although we were mindful not to waste much time and climbed onto the subway to head home. On the way, we talked about our respective Bachelors and debated on which course was harder. Before long, my destination arrived. 
“That's my stop,” I pointed out to the digital board displaying the name of the upcoming station and got up from my seat. “Don't think I missed the subtle way you changed the topic. Since it was a sensible conversation I'll spare you this time. I got some valuable knowledge.” 
He pressed his lips to a thin line, nodding along. Was that funny? “Valuable knowledge... Right. I'll spare you too, but don't think I'll babysit you every single day.” 
“Keep dreaming, Baweja,” I winked. Soon the doors opened and I stepped out of it but not before blowing a mock flying kiss his way. Funnily, he pretended to catch it only to throw far away and wipe his hands off it. Funny.
* * * 
The following week went by in a similar fashion. Nothing much took place in the office, except when I deliberately walked by Vansh's cubicle and whispered sweet nothings to his ear (while pretending to talk about work), irking him more. He smelled good though. Wonder what soap he used. 
The poor lad did his best to avoid going home with me. He'd stay late by lazing in the lounge or canteen. Once he even left fifteen minutes earlier. Unfortunately for him, I bested him every time. I'd always be waiting for him at the exit. It was mind boggling to see someone go to great lengths to avoid me. Did I repel him that much? Slightly offensive, but amusing regardless. 
“The amount of waiting I have to endure because of you,” I  complained, after he came out of the washroom late evening. I let out a yawn before continuing, “You really took your sweet time in there. Were you emptying your shit or sperm? Men, these days. They seriously need to filter their needs.”
“It's rather your mouth that needs a filter,” Vansh mumbled, casting a disgusting glance. 
~
“What do you think you're doing?” Irfan asked when we were having lunch one day. 
“But this pasta is so good. Why would you say that?” I asked, offended and gobbled another bite with my fork. 
Irfan sighed. “I'm talking about Vansh. He told me about that stupid bet you made. What games are you playing here?” 
“Gee, relax, uncle! It's just a harmless bet I proposed out of boredom,” I answered with a dismissive hand and paused to take another bite. “It will be over in a jiffy.”