Part 7: Catalyst

Present day

Light descended in shards upon two seated in a corner of the hotel's restaurant. The light got caught in her emerald earrings, and he noticed how they had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. She wasn't wearing it earlier.

She saw his eyes flicker to her ears and she rested her chin on her hand, tilting her head a little to let him get a good view of it.

"Takes you back doesn't it?" She asked, her eyes never leaving his.

He slowly nodded, leaning on his chair and letting out a held breath.

"Look, I don't know who you think I am, and at this point, I don't care. I'm not who I used to be if you can believe it," He said, unbuttoning his collar and loosening it with his index finger.

Mehar's incredulous gaze did not lift off him, flickering between his eyes and his hands in suspicion.

"I'm just a jewellery designer, and I'm just starting to get lucky. It's true I tried my hand at something else ages ago but you know how that ended," He sighed.

She wondered if it was all an act.

He noticed how she hadn't said a word in a while.

Leaning on his elbows on the red-covered table, which gave even the air about them a crimson hue, he continued,

"You aren't here to see me, I know that much. You want me to keep your secret, don't you? I will if you do the same for me."

She mimicked his pose, her face inches from his, and shook her head in a no.

"It's cute that you'd think we would ever be on the same team-"

A tray crashed beside them before she could continue and they were both on their feet without missing a beat.

A thin-cropped head of hair rose from the edge of the table, revealing sleepy eyes and a tired grin.

He muttered a sorry and seemed too exhausted to even be flustered.

He led them to the table behind, complete with a flourish before retiring back to the kitchen.

Before the swinging door could mask him, Mehar saw a flash of something in his eyes. His eyes had been veiled with a ploy of lethargy, which she was starting to question.

She turned back to look at Tushar, who seemed to have caught the same.

Her hand shot out to the underside of the table, and her fingers brushed over something.

Her eyes levelled over the rim of the table and encountered his, before she pulled on the little bump that she had felt.

Mehar stood to her full height and laid a hand over the slit of her dress, she wanted to be ready to grab the blade it concealed.

Because in her palm was something anyone else would've mistaken for a little black button.

She dropped it to the floor and watched it bounce off the green carpet once before laying at rest. Brushing her bangs off her forehead from looking down, she let her heel fall on it.

Lifting her gaze to grab onto his, she ground it to powder.

The look in her eyes was unmistakable. He had seen it once, three years ago, and things didn't necessarily go the way he planned from that point.

Held at gunpoint by her disarming scrutiny, he felt the reigns slipping from his grasp.