Silent Hearts

17| Seventeen

~She wanted to tell him all of her secrets, but  her love for him became one of them, instead~

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"Why are you here?"

Nandini raised her fingers to her flushed cheeks, wiping the trail of wetness away, her eyes impatiently raising to meet the grey ones, the ones that belonged to that man in the blue shirt, the man who helped Tushar, the man who spoke her language with a distinct accent, the man who seemed quite brooding and angry? Ronit Arora was he, maybe a friend of Tushar's she hadn't known?

Those dark grey, nearly appearing to turn into pools of ebony, carried anger. . . the flickers of the explanations she knew, was directly aimed at her, in the midst, there lingered those touches of sadness that somehow, Nandini had compelled herself to forget. His stare was different, so different than of Tushar's, and she knew not what even Tushar's gaze held. . . but now, at this moment, she could sense every bit of Ronit Arora's emotions, his resentment, towards her, his distress over his friend's health.

Nandini couldn't hold that judging eye any longer, before they, once again, retreated to the glass panes between her and that man behind it, suffering. She knew no answer to the asked question, or, what was demanded. Or, even if she had truly known the reasons for her being here, she would have remained mum, for she never knew to answer back.

She stepped back, once she had seen the look on Ronit Arora's face, when he took a step further towards her. She was afraid, not of this man beside her, but the thoughts he had in his mind, or the accusations. . . that were naught but true. How could they not be, when she, herself believed them to be?

"I–" her palms rested on the window, the upper two teeth of her, subconsciously, came down to her bottom up, releasing a long, nearly uneven breath, trying to gulp down the fear back into her heart, for it need not be shown, not to anyone, anyway.

"–came to see. . him," she tried to not put her emotions into her words, they were meaningless after all, her eyes never abandoning his frame away from her sight as they never glanced back to the harshness she had left to be ignored.

A slow chuckle disturbed her senses, pushing it apart from the man she had refused to call her husband. Something, something was different there, something Nandini could guess but. . . couldn't put her finger on. Was it the harshness that bothered her? No, she had lived with it all this time, now she knew it wasn't exactly the harshness, then, was it the resentment that blurred her vision again and over? Oh, was it the mockery he held with himself? Mockery, yes, it was the derision of Ronit Arora that stabbed her sanity.

Eyes scrunched, lips separated, surprise and hatred masking over her sorrow just the moment she comprehended what Ronit meant, Nandini glanced back at him. Why? Why had he, too, taunted her? What had he even known about her? Nothing, certainly.

And, never would he know.

Nandini wanted to ask him, anything. She knew the society around her had enough of their reasons to hate her, but. . .

Her lips thinned as she made no question, offered no answer to him, she wouldn't do it for anyone, anyway, never. Nevertheless, she continued to stare at Ronit Arora, her hateful eyes clashing with his sardonic ones, watching the unpleasant man, as soon, a derisive smile curved upon his lips.