The sun is out.

Or at least it has started to rise from the horizon,

I can see the light seeping in through the disgusting yellow curtains in your room

We have been lying in bed, looking at the creaking fan and talking all through the night

Well there were those moments when you got really close to my neck,

I could feel your breath against my skin,

Your hand around my waist tightening its grip

But I always moved away

Because come on,

That is not how friends act

This isn’t the first time you and I are in the same bed

We have had sleepovers a million times

Then why is it so different today?

You flirt, that’s what you do

You make every woman feel like you exist only to see her walk this earth

I know you and I know your flattery

Then how come it’s working on me today?

“You know, I think everybody is queer. Some people just choose to explore that side of their being and some don’t” -I say shaking from the closeness between our lips

You smile and lean in- “and you? Do you wish to explore that side of your being?”

Your lips are mere inches away from mine and yet they seem so out of reach

Are you that far or is my straightness getting in the way?

Am I straight or is it just years of conditioning?

“I have been hoping and praying for you to want to explore”

I fiddle out of your grip.

“The sun is out, we should get going. We have work at 8.”

“Really? After a night of telling me about your dead aunt and that poem you listen to every time you have a minor emotional inconvenience and your favourite dessert and the mole on your chest, you want to tell me we have work to get to?”

“Well, you know everything about me already, don’t you?”

“No? I don’t know what your favourite colour is”

“Ahh shut up, we are getting late”

“Tell me what your favourite colour is”

“I don’t know”

“Come on! If you’re not going to kiss me, at least tell me what your favourite colour is”

“I don’t have one, I like the entire spectrum.”

“Then why push me away? Look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t feel anything when I am around, tell me there’s no chemistry, no tension between us, tell me I made all of it up in my head, tell me you only look at men like that and tell me you have a favourite colour.”

“Just tell me what your favourite colour is!”

I look away before you open the doors to a part of my heart that has been locked and dark for all these years

“I have a date this evening, that hinge guy. I’ll have to leave work early, will you cover for me?”

You let me go, give me the kindest smile—

“So what is your favourite colour?”

---

“I am here, sitting in the back. The brown girl in a pink scarf.”

“I see you. Wow pink really suits you, let me guess its your favourite colour?”

“Ahh I dont have a favourite colour. And did you really call for a chai latte?”

“I love chai”

“So do I and thus I would never dare to order a chai latte in a godforsaken european cafe”

“Well I am in the mood for tea, I would settle for anything”

“That’s sad haha”

“How do you like your chai”

“Kam shakkar too much adrak, the only issue is, I don’t know how to make tea”

“Whattt? An Indian girl who cant make tea? Really? Mom didn’t teach you?”

Strike one.

“I read on your profile you like literature”

“Well yes I wanted to pursue it as a career when I was younger”

“What’s your favourite book?”

“See, I can tell you’re not a literature geek”

“How so?”

“Because people who love the language can’t really pick favourites. There is always going to be more to read, more to love, more to obsess over. There is so much literature in the world, so much more being produced, how do you pick one then?”

“Ahh a girl who loves the language so deeply. I have never met anyone like you”

Strike two.

“But I too used to read alot, history mostly. Did you know the Mughals could never take over the south and thats why the north and the south of India are still so separate, because the north bonded over the same opressors.”

“Ya that’s why the history textbooks don’t talk about the south as much as they do about the north because the history of both regions does not always follow the same timeline”

“Oh wow you like history? You keep surprising me with your interests. I have never met a girl who is passionate about history”

Strike three.

“I must tell you, I am having a great time on this date. You’re the first girl I feel this intellectual connection with. Most women I have met on dating apps are quite superficial”

Strike four.

“Ok maybe you’re just hanging out with the wrong crowd because all women I know are smart, intellectual, passionate females who look breathtaking as they talk about sports and history and the fucking climate. Trust me, I am not so special. I am not made of gold.
I am sorry but I am going to leave now”

“Wait what, why? Because I said I feel a connection with you that I don’t with other women? I didn’t mean other women are any less, I am a feminist too…”

“No let me cut you off there
It is not just that.

The thing is, I just really don’t want to know what your favourite colour is.”