CURE-ALL // Chapter 3
Read my messages, Diru, she says, setting the table. He hums a tune from an old Bollywood song from the couch, arranging dessert spoons on a tray on the side table.
You have a message from Geena. Sorry guys, won’t be able to make it. Stuck at work.
Great, she mutters disappointedly. He looks up, leaving the spoons on the table. A cheeky smile grows on his face, he gets up, Diru, play some house music.
Not in the mood, she chides him. A house track starts to play; he dances the robot, she breaks into a smile. Dim the lights, Diru, she says, and joins him.