Snapshots of Desire ✔ [Completed]

Pillow

Shreya has some trouble sleeping...Will Daya help her?

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Shreya was tired, very tired.

That morning she looked in the mirror and saw back the image of a corpse...no, maybe a dead body was in better shape.

She hadn't slept all night long in ten days and couldn't understand why.

She wasn't more nervous than usual, or anxious in her life, things proceeded more or less as usual : she get up, go to work... new case, new murderess, Daya, trouble, complaints, ACP Sir, threat of dismissal , Daya, bizarre plan, Daya, capture of the murderer, paperwork, dinner, TV, bed.

Everything was absolutely normal.

Yet, she couldn't sleep.

She went round and round, kicking off the blankets and retire them on... pillow yes... pillow no... belly up, belly down, left side, right side ... diagonally, bearskin , legs up against the wall... on the ground.

Nothing. She had a lover's quarrel with Morpheus.

She had even tried really hard to sleep: she counted the sheep... had reached 3457 ovine, then the alarm clock had rang. A glass of warm milk. A glass of red wine. Relaxing herbal teas. Melatonin. Herbal teas and melatonin.

Then she took medicines that donated her a couple of hours of restless and unsatisfactory sleep.

In a moment of desperation she had contemplated the idea of hitting herself hard in the head, but then gave up...she still needed her brain.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Shreya was tired, very tired.

Daya had noticed...Vineet had noticed...Purvi had noticed ... even Abhijeet had noticed. Rajat...maybe...

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

It was a quiet Thursday at the CID headquarter and the officers were busy catching up with the backlog.

Shreya had arrived at the usual time. As soon as she was out of the elevator, she gave a brief greeting to the team without even looking at who was present and headed directly to the little kitchen without dropping her things first and then she went to her office with a cup of steaming coffee.

Daya approached the little room and stopped leaning against the doorframe, dunking a tea bag in his personal turquoise cup.

He was contemplating her... his Shreya, his tough detective, whose eyes, that usually reflected intelligence and decision, were now obscured by a veil of exhaustion. She had deep black circles under her eyes, that stood out more on her porcelain white skin and her  hairs were slightly tousled, obviously she tried to tame them but they had to reflect her mood.

Shreya needed a few minutes to notice his presence.

"Daya Sir"

"Shreya"

"Funny..."

"Tired"

"What?"

"What -what-?"

"What do you mean by -tired-?"

"I thought we were exchanging adjectives. Me – funny -, you – tired -"

"I'm not tired"

"Yes, you are"

"I'm not!"

"Shreya..."