13- The caller

                                        

                                              
In the midst of attending one long ass lecture after another, I received a phone call from someone unexpected.
"I have something to ask. Are you busy?" Typical old man. Always skipping the basic greetings to jump straight to the point. "It's fine if you are occupied. I'll just ask someone-"
"No, Papa, I'm free at the moment. I have ten minutes before the Professor arrives. What is it?" I asked, putting the call on earphone. I was actually doing my assignment but I didn't feel the need to add. It wasn't everyday your father called in the middle of the day. 
"Okay, well, it's my phone..." He cleared his throat. He sounded like he was hesitating to add further. "I think there's something wrong with it. It's not connecting to the Wi-Fi in my office when it connected just fine yesterday. I need to use WhatsApp to send something to my client."
"Did you turn on the Wi-Fi?" I asked while continuing to write on paper.
"Of course I did! Who do you take me for?"
"Oh- okay. Go to your Wi-Fi settings then..." I said, placing the tip of my pen near my mouth. Papa then recited the default settings to me. It was hard to detect the fault with just words alone. Then I recalled the hotspot and told him to check that. He had accidentally turned on the hotspot while having mobile internet pack expired. 
"Ah, finally. Thank you, Natasha." He breathed out a sigh of relief. 
My fist closed around my mouth to suppress a laugh. It wasn't precisely the problem that made my funny bones tick; it was the scenario. Papa was in office with several colleagues. His problem would have been solved in a matter of seconds but he chose not to confide in anyone. His prideful self wouldn't allow it. I wondered why he turned to me when he could have just called that crude brother of mine. Must have been busy, who knows.
I thought Papa was done with me but then he added, almost annoyingly, "And you better don't come up with any excuses this Saturday, understood? Come home." 
"Yes, yes, I'll be there." 
"There's something not- so- special on Saturday in case you don't recall."
"Indeed there is," I stopped writing again. "On eight of December, roughly about fifty-six years ago, in the small town of Varanasi, around 2: 14 PM, Aashish Patel was born."
Warmth pooled inside me, hearing my own father laugh at my answer. I chuckled along. "Quite ever the smart kid."
"Picked from the best."
He chuckled again. Someone's voice could be heard from the other end, "Yes, yes, I'm on it... Got to go now. I have a meeting to attend."
"Hm, okay," I nodded, even though he couldn't see me, "Bye, Papa."
"Bye beta. Have a good day." 
~
"Oo', someone's smiling a bit out of proportion. We didn't even have sex yet." Rithik voiced out, propping his head against the palm of his hand, resting on the bed. 
Because two strangers had a not- so- stranger like conversation. "The world doesn't revolve around sex you know. I'm just looking forward to eating that black forest cake tomorrow." I answered, feeling my lips curl. Maybe I should buy a gift for Papa. I was contemplating on what to buy, unaware of Rithik's intent gaze on me, until I noticed. "What?"
"Nothing," He replied, pulling me on top of him. His fingers grazed through the scalp above my neck,
giving me slight chills. "Too bad I won't be seeing you tomorrow but I understand."
"You'll just have to make it up today," I ran my fingers over his chest, stopping at his lower lip. He started sucking on it, shooting me a wayward glance before lowering my head to his. The kiss was slow and laidback. Comfortable. I knew it was just an initiative to sex, yet I wanted to go on. There were times when I only felt like kissing him. Just him, me and the butterfly effect between us. Barely two minutes had passed when we heard footsteps approaching the door. Inconsiderate bastards.