Chahat was sitting on the chair, looking at her bandaged hand. Her mind was still drifting towards Rudraksh. Those deep eyes, his care, everything about him was giving her a strange kind of restlessness. On one hand, she was getting irritated remembering his carefree and dramatic talks from the morning, and on the other hand, his unexpected gentleness had left her even more confused. She took a deep breath and tried to shake off her thoughts.

The apple lying on the counter was still there, half peeled, and the knife was lying next to it. She thought of picking up the apple, but because of her cut hand, she changed her mind and once again became lost in thoughts of Rudraksh like a crazy person. Then, shaking off her own thoughts, she said,