Sixty Nine

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Fear

Summery: it wasn't me!

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Summery: it wasn't me!

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Veer doesn't give her a moment to think, instead he steers her away - or to be more accurate, he steers himself away and Amrit trapped and held in his arm has no option but to tag along.

The crowd does not notice the panic that had overcome him, or the urgency with which he flees the gathering.

"Veer!"

He doesn't hear her. Instead Amrit has to run to keep up with his quick, long strides. Passageway, after passageway - Veer keeps walking, unheeding- unseeing, breathing hard.

"Veer! Rukjaaiye, VEER!"

Amrit finally reaches out and grabs his shoulder, he swings around blindly, pressing her against the wall - coming upon her with a force he would unleash upon an assailant.

Breath is knocked off her as Amrit stares up at him, his arm reflexively presses against her throat.

"Ve - er!" She chokes.

Recognition, and then devastating guilt dawns upon his face, Veer staggers back - staring at her in wide eyed panic, still breathing hard. Amrit clutches a hand at her throat, having just received a full demonstration of her husband's hand to hand combat skills - her wind pipe burns against the force and she has to cough.

"Jaan - jaan -" his trembling hands cradle her face, his voice falters. Veer looks at her with searching eyes, self condemning. "Yeh humse kya hogaya - yeh - yeh -"

"Veer..." she holds him, her voice as soothing as her touch.

He borrows his face against her palm, seeking the reassurance of her touch and pulls her closer.

"I never meant to hurt you," he pleads into her hair. "You know that right? Please know that - I never meant it to be you."

She sighs into his neck, fingers sinking into hair at his nape.

There are no words necessary between them when things are like this, soft, calm and silent, with her heart syncing to his.

"Why?" She asks in the end, feeling his pulse quiet down beneath her fingertips.

"I'm seeing things," his voice is rough.

Amrit pulls back and startes at him in the eye. Veer looks do distraught that her own brows frown.

"It must be one of those bloody withdrawal symptoms. There is this man - I hadn't seen him since - since -" he presses his temples with the heels of his hands and leans his back against the wall.

"He was there when Prem fell," his voice is weak with doubt. "But apparently he wasn't. Apparently I was imagining him. They gave me medication to stop it you know - I- I was imagining him to shift my own blame they said. All that time I thought he was a part of Baba Sahab's guard. He wasn't - he doesn't EXIST!"

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