Anyone who has known me or has read my blog will agree that I need some serious grounding. I'm as loud, indecent and dangerous as all the fireworks of Diwali going off at once. I sparkle and bang incessantly (yes) and I don't stop at anything. A live-wire on the loose like me is not always pleasant either. With slight bi-polar tendencies and a definite Multiple Personality Disorder, it takes a super-human moderating factor to calm me down.
So, twenty years since the phenomenon called Abhi Mami, the universe finally realized that something had to be done. As a result, the namesake of a certain to-die-for werewolf (read Twilight) has been sent to me. You can be sure that he is something more than human mostly because he laughs in the range that only bats can hear (wherein I hear prolonged bouts of silence over the phone) and because he has the ability of controlling me by doing nothing at all. He even makes the perfect replacement for the excessive amounts of coffee I consume- strong, dark and hot- just the way I like it.
This werewolf of mine is so... NORMAL and even toned, with an appropriate laughter length of 1.618 seconds; proper and decent and un-flirty.
Un-flirty, but prefers to give me surprise visits, and personalized autographed copies of poems from a writer I love, pick up souvenirs for me from visits to historical tourist spots and indulges my (already) decadent palate to CHOCOLATE SANDWICHES! *sigh*
Like this but Better.
He also has a valuable nutritive quality. He is my daily hard-boiled egg. Needs cracking but has an excellent sense of humor underneath- refined and super-human, again, and certainly healthy and therapeutic for my addled brains.
My werewolf once said to me: "Who's your daddy? You or me?"
But that was only the answer to: "What did the chicken say to the egg?"
(A nature versus nurture, et cetera debate was supposed to spring out of that)
His gentlemanly manner and constraint has had a binding influence on my usually uncouth social behaviour and has colonized and controlled my flirting etiquette. However, it took him three whole months of knowing me to finally mention the F-word. He only mentioned it. But we don't really do it. At least, not often. Or very blatantly. We even conceal ourselves from each other most of the times. And then we pretend that nothing happened. We implement the F-word every now and then, and it lasts all for about five minutes. It is rather fun I must say, and he always makes me want more.
Yes, we Flirt these days. But in moderation.
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