abhi pulled the pins from pragya's chignon and gently tugged with his fingers until her hair fell free. "i guess it's ok for the gala, but don't wear your hair like this at home. i like my chashmish's hair loose and wild and sexy, all spread out for me to touch and nuzzle and sniff..."
"accha..."
"and i like my chashmish with her chashma. otherwise it's not clear that you're chalak and dangerous."
"hmm...aur kuch?"
"i like my chashmish in her full-sleeved chatris...this one is nice but i don't like if greaseballs and pharmacists and drooling babies can just run their worthless hands along my chashmish's silky skin..."
"oh is that how it is?"
"yes...and i like my chashmish smiling and laughing...and i'm going to make it so that she looks at me and not the greaseball for happy memories..."
"are you?"
"yes...starting now."
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