Diamond Hearts (Volume I & II)

1. Clubs and Refusals

"Vodka on the rocks," Mahil took a sit on the high bar stool running a hand through his hair. He let out a frustrated sigh. It had been a terribly long week which turned out worst the moment Winslow had showed up at his studio.

The man hated him since the moment he had stepped into university, but receiving cold stares from students wasn't a new thing being a scholarship student in University of dance, Chicago. Earlier he saw Winslow as a healthy competition, but that man had soon started getting a kick out of messing up with his life. The hatred had continued even after them stepping into the world of professional choreography. But leaving no stone unturned to take away every single opportunity from Mahil was such a low thing to do, even on that manipulative bastard's part.

Gulping the drink as it was served; he looked around the dance floor stopping at a particular face. Her long hair reached till the waistline, bright red shade of her one piece complemented that white tinted wheat complexion. They seemed to be a group of three, counting another man and the woman she had exchanged polite smiles with. Mahil could vouch the man wasn't her boyfriend, partly because of the distance she had maintained while dancing and partly because his mind wish for it.

As the song changed, the other two moved together. Mahil's subject of interest was about to leave the dance floor when she was approached by a guy from the crowd. They had exchanged a few words before dancing together; the song was getting cozier and her body stiffer. The advancements made by the man were simply knocked off as he tried to get a hold of her waist or when he attempted to pull her closer because she would consciously move back making him feel awkward. It wasn't too long when she nodded at the guy and started walking out of the crowd.

Mahil felt the thrill running down his veins upon realizing the fact that she had taken a seat on a high stool just a few feet next to him.

He signaled the bartender, "One Amaretto sour for the lady."

Kuhoo watched the waiter coming towards her side and wondered what to order. But instead of asking, he placed a glass of sparkling red-brown liquid in front of her. A white cream layer on the surface, two blueberries on the top with a slice of lemon attached at the rim gave it exquisite features.

"Excuse me; I don't think I have ordered this. It must be for someone else," She gave a confused look.

"It's from him," The waiter pointed and Kuhoo's line of vision followed the direction. The man smiled at her. She raised an eyebrow; he did the same. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes unlike hers which showed consternation.

"I'm sorry, does this contain alcohol?" She asked earning a confounded look from the bartender. Nevertheless he answered, "It does. This is our special cocktail."

Kuhoo nodded, "I would like a lime soda."

When Mahil's eyes found her again she was gulping some transparent liquid, Amaretto sour was lying untouched on the counter. His legs moved on their own only to stop at few inches away from her.

"It was for you," the thick American ascent made Kuhoo turn wondering if it was the same guy with Indian features or had she mistakenly seen the wrong person. It had been four years she had been living in Chicago but hitting the ascent perfectly wasn't her cup of tea. When her eyes landed on his face for some reason she wanted to hear that voice again.

"Thanks, but I don't fancy alcohol," She replied slowly sipping the lime soda.

"Can I get you something else? Anything that you 'fancy'?" Listening to that, she shot him a death glare standing face to face. It was one thing to have a good voice, an amazing ascent or a handsome face and a completely different thing to have a good character she thought but then judging him wasn't her thing to do.