Joined: 24 June 2007
Kripa Sharma has loved her BFF, Angad Khanna, since high school; always knowing they were only friends. What happens when she finds "the one" to marry? Will Angad remain her BFF or will their relationship take a turn?
Four harmless little letters. Alone and separate from each other, they have no power and only communicate sounds. But, when strung together in the right order, they have meaning and depth and power. Above all else, they are explosive.
I used to think that four-letter word was an illusion; a fabrication created by retailers to sell cards, tokens, flowers, and everything and anything else they can package. That was until I met Nishant.
As a child, you experience it unconditionally with your parents, grandparents and other close family members. As a teen, you think you know it, understand it, and experience it. S***, drama is created because of it. But, you truly don't fully understand the power of that four-letter word.
After you become an adult, you yearn for it, hunger for it, and search for it. Do you really ever find it? Rarely, if you're lucky. In fact, sometimes, just when you think you've found it, committed to it, and are ready to spend an eternity with it, something or someone steps in and tries to redefine it for you.
So, I thank that four-letter word ' a word I thought I had a firm grasp of and had clearly defined in my mind until he came barging into my bridal suite ' for fracturing my whole belief system and whole world into a million pieces. All because he decided to utter that four-letter word after all these years.
All because my best friend, Angad, told me he loved me ' on my wedding day.
AN:- Please leave a comment. :-)
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peachgirl, Piu., -Misek-, fffan123, flowers4u, monikaseth, MS-meghasharma, spvd,
Joined: 24 June 2007
October, a year and half prior
"You can always tell a real friend; when you've made a fool of yourself, he doesn't feel you've done a permanent job." ~Laurence Sterne
"Angad, you're gonna have to come out sooner or later. You have about fifteen seconds to get your arse out here, or else I am going to come in there and drag you out by your pretty little head," I yell into the closed dressing room door.
"I'm not coming out," he says like a stubborn child.
"I swear, Angad, stop being such a drama queen,and get your arse out here."
"No. I'm not coming out. This is f**king embarrassing. I look ridiculous. I'm changing. Forget the stupid party-I'm not going."
I suddenly have an image of Angad stomping his foot, crossing his arms over his chest,and pouting. A perpetual child is on the other side of that dressing room door at the moment. I inwardly giggle. He kills me.
If the hilarity of situation wasn't so stupid I would really be getting pissed off at him right now. He's lucky, very lucky. I'm not.
"Angad, if you come out, I promise we can go to Dave and Buster's and shoot and kill some zombies afterwards, okay?" I am so not above bribery at the moment.
"And play ski-ball too?" he practically whines.
"Yes, we can play ski-ball too, but you have to come out and let me see your costume."
"Just give me a sec- I'll be right out." I can hear the smile in his voice.
I step away from the fitting room, feeling triumphant. My best friend can't resist some video game action. Besides, it's not my fault he waited until the last minute to decide we should go to the Halloween party together. It's not my fault he broke up with Mishti three weeks ago, and she took the costume reservation. It's not my fault the choices were limited. It's not my fault that we are stuck being Tarzan and Jane. You don't see me complaining about having to wear some skimpy costume that barely covers my arse and chest. But, that's Angad, always complaining and leaving things to the last minute.
Finally, the fitting room door slowly opens, and Angad slides out from behind the door, moving like a snail.
One arm is firmly planted across his chest, holding tightly around his torso, while the other attempts to tug and cover the barely-there loin cloth.
I can't help the giggle that escapes me.
"Kripa, I feel self-conscious enough as it is; I don't need you snickering like some adolescent school girl," he chides, his face turning several different shades of red.
"Um, you're right, sorry. " I suck in my bottom lip, trying desperately to stop from laughing any further. But my attempt is useless, however, as I burst out laughing uncontrollably.
"I'm not going," he announces, retreating to the fitting room.
"Angad, come back out. I'm sorry, really I am. I promise I won't laugh, cross my heart. Just come back out, please."
"Promise you won't laugh?"
"Promise. I'm crossing my heart and everything."
The door opens again, and Angad is still trying to cover himself with his hands and arms.
"Angad, put your freakin arms down. There's no reason to be embarrassed."
"Sure, you're not the one having to wear a stupid little loin cloth," he reminds me, his arms slowly moving to his sides.
"Turn around," I command, twirling my finger around.
"Seriously, Kripa, is that necessary?"
"I need to get the full effect."
Angad huffs and mumbles something under his breath while he turns around for me.
I smile widely, trying to hold back another giggle. "Angad, it's perfect."
I stare a little longer than I probably should be Angad is more than perfect in the barely-there loin cloth. His chest is sculpted and chiseled as if made from marble: the ripple of his muscles, the faint outline of a six-pack on his stomach, the v-shaped dip that is just exposed by the low riding material. His arms are slightly flexed, exposing the muscles that working out for hours has created.
"Hello...Kripa…can I change now?"
"Um, yeah, sure, go change."
Angad retreats back into the fitting room, and I shake my head.
It's not like I've never seen him without a shirt on before, but the way he was trying to hide himself made me want to look even more. I can't deny the man has an amazing body and face and the personality to match.
Angad and I have been best friends since we met eight years ago in our junior year of high school. Of course I thought he was gorgeous then and developed a little crush on him, but it never evolved into anything more. Angad never looked at me as anything other than his best friend. So, I simply suppressed my crush and moved on.
I shake my head and laugh at myself.
He's your best friend, stupid, and you are no longer in high school.
I can't help but wonder if things between us would be different now if I had said something back then. Probably not. I was never Angad's type. He always went for the tall women, with short hair. and that is so not me. I have long brown hair, and I am quite short. Not his type at all.
Angad reemerges from the fitting room completely clothed.
He smiles at me. "Your turn, missy."
"Fine," I huff, gathering my Jane costume and entering the fitting room.
I quickly strip down and pull the practically non-existent costume on.
Once I think it's on properly, I turn around and gaze at myself in the mirror.
Holy shit, there's nothing to it. Damn Aaliya for suggesting this stupid store. However, the longer I stare at myself, the more I begin to realize I really look amazing. I mean, my chest never look fuller, bigger even. The skirt reveals quite a bit of leg, making my short stubby legs look long for once. My stomach is taut, and my belly ring sparkles in the fluorescent lights.
Not bad, Sharma, not bad at all.
Then, reality sets in and I remember I won't be the only one seeing me in this costume. A whole bunch of people will be at the party. I've never liked being the center of attention, and this costume definitely demands attention.
I take a deep, steadying breath, realizing there's nothing I can do about the costume now. Angad and I are basically stuck. I mean, we could go as ketchup and mustard, but that's just stupid. And, since it's two days before Halloween, all the good costumes are spoken for. If Angad had only thought about this sooner, I wouldn't look like some cavewoman ho**** right now.
"Kripa, time to come out," Angad sing-songs from the other side of the door.
I open the door and step out leaving the safety of fitting room behind me.
Angad simply stares at me, not saying a word.
"Does it look that bad?" I ask, spinning around, trying to get a better look at myself.
Angad continues to stare at me and not saying a word. His mouth hangs open, and he is starting to look like one of those patients in the looney bin once their meds have taken affect.
"Just great. I'm going to kill you for waiting to the last minute, Khanna, I swear to God…"
"Kripa, um, no, it's not bad. Jesus, you look, um, just, seriously, Kripa, you look, just, wow," he stammers.
"God, Kripa, yes really. Good thing I'm your 'date' because I have a feeling I'm going to double as your body guard as well. The male population at this party is going to be all over you."
"Angad, I don't need your body guard services. Besides, I don't look that good."
Or do I?
I take a peek at myself in the wall mirrors off to the left of the dressing room.
Damn, I do look that good. I give myself a mental high five.
"Trust me, Kripa. I maybe your best friend, but I'm also a guy, and I know what other guys think," he reminds me, tapping his slender index finger to his temple.
"You are delusional and biased. So, are we going as Tarzan and Jane, or what?" I quirk an eyebrow, challenging him.
"Unfortunately for me, we really have no choice. I really don't want to go as a ketchup bottle so, get changed, and I'll meet you at the register," he huffs, gripping his Tarzan costume in his hand, leaving me to change out of mine.
As I walk back into the dressing room, I was certain of three things—I was going to so rock the Jane costume, Angad wasn't the only who was going to need a bodyguard, and it was going to be a very interesting Halloween.
A/N: Let me know what you're thinking.
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