Chapter 16.2 – Proof Of Innocence

|| 16. PAIZE 2 ♥ ||

Stepping inside a large room, he walked them past luxurious columns brimming with clothes and various peripheral accessories glowing under golden hued lights. Halting ahead a series of mirrors aligned at one end, Omar slipped Mohana against his frame, letting her bare feet land on a plush rug.

She pulled at her silken robe hoping for it to become a thick parka, when picking a protective garment bag from the chaise lounger, Omar extended it to her “Here you go”

Glad for the shield, Mohana hugged the black zipped bag ahead, only for her breathing to become more wayward seeing him recline on the tufted leather chaise, stretching his feet ahead, tossing another small bag in his hand.

“Am considering we should get one of these on your office walls as well” the drawl diverted her attention from his magnificent lounging self, to the larger than life framed display adorning the wall besides. Reflecting on the closet mirrors, the bright capture of their beach photo shoot, displayed a Mohana nearly melded into Omar Shaan’s torso, her fingers along his v muscles, wrapped around the jeans button.

Color on her cheeks deepened, fingers burning at the memory, looking away from the attractive man whose torso she had been intending to vertically expand in their pose, she instead focussed on the black package in her hands “There’s no reason why I would ever want to see that on my office wall”

“I could build a list of as many reasons as you want for your power of justice, but mainly this pic amply clearly yields proof to my innocence” Omar thoughtfully offered looking at their large image

Fisting on to her shield, she heatedly argued “Innocence?! I wasn’t the one wanting to display my muscles to the world for a journal cover. You couldn’t even let that sports jacket remain on you. It’s because of me that there’s not a shirtless picture of you, for all your ridiculous Peggys to drool on!”

“Which is exactly why I need this proof of innocence. I am not the one who undid all the buttons, as you can see am only holding you in this one and nearly all other pictures in our collection” establishing his point he bounced the packet in his hands spinning to catch it again

Fuming at his superiority, she mimicked an overtly smug smile in return “She was going to open your buttons in that room, wanting to give you anything! You were stuck to her throughout that photo shoot, so if anyone is innocent between the both us it would be me..” flustered at her own deceitful claim, having exploited the man, Mohana issued a nervous correction “..uhm in this case of the beach cover shoot at least. because you don’t even wear stuff when you own this palace of clothes”

Easing further in the lounger, Omar gestured to his stretched legs “If you’d have cared to spare me a glance, you would have noticed I am wearing jeans”

“Of course! Jeans that she likes opening buttons for..” Mohana seethed “..but why would it bother me. it doesn’t even matter. it is what you and your fans want. I will wear my clothes because I have to leave. Whatever else is needed can be discussed through my attorney” she twisted the zipper of the garment bag, utterly upset remembering his closeness with the server

Bouncing the smaller package in his hands, Omar nonchalantly offered “Go ahead, I am only innocently waiting on standby”

Her face flushed with embarrassment of her own misdeeds which had warranted such scrutiny from him, her voice quivered a plea “If am fast? And you can check on me? I’ll hurry up”

Straightening from the couch Omar held the velvet package ahead “Without the essentials?”

“Noh!” realizing the contents of the bag he had been bouncing, she snatched it from his fingers, then awkwardly stepped back

Closing their gap, Omar dipped his head to whisper “Be back in a few” leaving a tormented Mohana all by herself in the dressing room

Hearing the low click of the door closing, she stole a glance at the large print in which she stood affixed to the designer celebrity, her face glowing under the crisp morning sun. Seeing his strong arm wrapped under the curve of her butt made Mohana shy at the memory, yet an ache arose within to desperately belong in his embrace

Chastising her wayward thoughts, she unwrapped her lingerie from the smaller velvet bag without giving any thought to the freshly laundered clothes, her head fighting a loosing battle to forget the feeling of his touch

Slipping into her pink-red lace lingerie, her thoughts far away to the magnificent phenomena of Omar Shaan, she hastily undid the clothing bag to reach for the coordinated ensemble and slipped on the top. The cropped garment beautifully moulded her heaving breasts, but her rampant shallow breathing gave resistance to the fabric, preventing the ends from meeting their closure.

Looking at the top in the mirror, holding onto her breath she attempted to make the zip fastening ease into place, but the small clasp refused to budge. After a few failed tries Mohana grumbled “How am I going to change diapers if I can’t do a zip by myself”

Another non yielding frantic tug made her scowl, turning to look at their picture she demanded, speaking to the digital portrait of her dream man “You are the designer! Use your power” another tug and the zip rolled down smoothly this time like it had never been a reason for botheration

Securing the saree underskirt on her waist, a fuzzy recollection of the same words ‘..You are the designer!..’ tumbled along a faint glimpse of Omar Shaan, making Mohana frown at the blurry thoughts ‘..We didn’t close them when you were changing and it was hot!..’

“I have so lost it. My head, my heart, my soul! My dreams and reality are two different aspects. How could I have taken advantage of him. Stealing his jacket was one thing, stealing him is a crime! Mo’ana you’re a brainless and irresponsible dolt” haphazardly grumbling to herself she stared at the endless pool of fabric on her feet

Scrunching her eyes shut, Mohana hid her face in palms realizing the dilemma: she wouldn’t be fast, she wouldn’t be able to hurry at all, because out of all the ensembles she could have worn for this day, she had chosen one which she didn’t know how to wear.

“I removed this thing to do all of that to him, so I would know something about it. My memory should help me” dwindling on hope, she nonetheless set herself to tackle the outfit. She ran a hand through her wet golden waves ignoring a shudder as she tried remembering how the pink-red fabric had been tied along her waist the first time around.

Straightening the saree she attempted to follow the coaching Indigo had provided Jojo but the result made her tumble every time, either the fabric would get too tightly wound or there would be yards of it left on the floor.

Disappointed at her attempts, pouting at the beautiful fabric she stumbled over to their large framed picture, leaning on the tall and handsome figure of Omar Shaan. Resting her face on the glass surface, she placed a shy hand on his chest “We both said we believed in writing our own destinies but I wrote mine to ruin yours. I’ll never be able to forgive myself for my actions. Never. because you are..” she swallowed a sob, blinking her glassy eyes “ doesn’t matter. Nothing matters”

Inhaling an exhausted breath, paying no heed to the shivers, Mohana gathered the pink-red fabric, making her way to the dressing room door when she heard Omar through the speakers “Hey, you’re alright?”

Having been yearning for him, her eyes watered with longing but she determinedly blinked them, cluelessly looking around wanting to understand the speaker system “Noh. I.. Can you hear me? where are you?”

“Right here. I’ll come in?” listening to his voice she croaked “Yah” and the door to the closet instantly swung open. Walking inside the dressing room, holding a fruit bowl on his palm Omar checked “What happened?”

Shuffling the saree fabric to hide behind it, Mohana tried forming words but her voice failed getting conscious of him, when forking a bite of mango cubes Omar took the opportunity to slip them through her parted lips. Trailing behind him, trekking back to the expansive dressing area, shyly bunching a thick tassel in her palm Mohana requested “Nothing. this. uh this. Can you call your Indigo?”

“If you want, we can play fair. Someone helps you with this saree and in return you eat breakfast. Tova has a nice menu planned, there’s also a variety of other fruits, such as pineapples if you’d like I can bring them here” offering he fed her a forkful of raspberries this time

Another woman’s name made her heart bounce frantically “Noh. Mangos are my favorite.. and then raspberries”

“A few hours ago you seemed to care for pineapples too, I nearly got the impression that you liked them more than mangos and raspberries” feeding her another bite, Omar kept the bowl aside

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