Together Forever

Chapter 50: In 'LOVE'

Her hazels softly glowed in delight, her fingers traced the photograph in fragile touch as she reminisced the day of the drama competition.

Sanskaar- for sure he looked a little too much charming and every bit of worthy handsome in the white laced up V necked poet shirt that had flares at end of the cuffs, tight fitted fine black waist coat and long boots. His hair was neatly styled and gelled up with few midnight locks stroking his forehead. Ah! She had failed to even compliment him the way he carried the medival era look like a professional model.

The picture had herself decked up in a gloosy red ball gown, perfectly beautified with minimum amount of make up with no loud ornaments worn and all she had worn was a diamond studs and a sleak chain with a stone pendant shining between her collarbones. One of her favourite looks she'd always remember. Sanskaar stood right beside her with a calm composure and smiles itched on both their faces while she was seated in the royal chair.

But the next photography almost got her heart pound faster than any express train while musings rushed into her mind. Swara shook her head in disbelief at how stupidly she had illusions and rubbed her eyes twice but still the picture remained the same. It took her three whole minutes to realise it was not any hallucinations but that's how the picture was.

Her, with a cheeky smile and crimson cheeks while he stood beside her. Swara could see how his sharp features of his face were softened like a molten rays of harmless sunshine, a huge boyish grin graced upon his lips and he stared at her as if he was admiring the most alluring art he had ever seen with his hand placed on her shoulder.

'Would he harbour feelings just like she did?' - Swara had no idea about it but just with the thought of the possibilities made her heart bloom flowers of cherry blossoms and scarlet hues to colour her cheeks that already glowed under the silvery rays of moonlight. But she quickly brushed away such thoughts before they conquered her for she knew it was Sanskaar's call to choose anything, even the latter and she shouldn't have a say in it.

Swara carefully tugged those photographs in between the pages of her favourite book and stared at her own reflection through the mirror, half glimmering under the platinum glow of the moon and half obstructed by the shadows of the night. The silver butterfly hanging in her ear glowed ever so beautifully despite her thick strands tried to hide it away.

Her fingertips brushed the hanging so delicately that she was afraid of replacing her own impression instead of the fading prints of his fingers that gave away the lost piece months ago. The hazels gleamed in delight at the memory- how sparkles crackled even at their tiniest proximity and her cheeks coloured in softest hues of scarlet.

Something has changed in her, so uncanny to her mind yet bewitchingly beautiful in her heart.  Something so alluring yet overwhelming that she couldn't term them in proper words. There was something different about him- of how his presence makes her see tints she never knew, of how his rantings becomes a soothing music to her, of how his efforts of bringing back the lost smile always triumphs effortlessly. Ah, such a sneaky, flirty, heart stealer he was!

Can liking someone bring such an effect on one?

That was when realisation dawned at her as her fingers didn't find the pair of the ear piece in her right earlobe. Swara was quick to stand and scan all over her room until she remember of how her clumsy fingers tugged away her locks away hastily and might have dropped it there, where she confessed as the rare sight of the sky made the atmosphere look more pleasant. Swara squinted her eyes as she called out for him. 

"Sanskaar."

Lanes away, a startled Sanskaar woke up from his sleep with heaved pace of breathing. No- it's just a dream. A dream where he chased her and she ran through the sculptured pillars and translucent curtains. Her silky tresses bounced against her back while the anklets chimmed with every step she took forward. The anticipation of knowing who it was made him follow her all the while.