Neel, She called him.
Noori, He named her.
They decided to stick to names that didn't matter much to them or anyone else.
She was running from a horrible vision.
He was running from his existence.
She wished to fly.
He wished to be grounded.
Sh...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
“You look better in long hair”
He kept reminding her every chance he got, making her push the idea of getting a new look.
She smirked at the mirror seeing as the dresser set her hair in a new style, the chopped pieces of hair falling past her shoulders. The black strands now flow a little below her shoulders.
“This” She pointed to the colors and rested her head back, eyes closed as the dresser took her strands and started dying them in the selected colors. She felt the brush painting her hair and the process of highlighting the hair ends into the selected color. She smiled feeling better as she felt herself changing, first her look and then her resolve to make him pay.
It took hours until the attendants started blow-drying her hair after a long pampering session of nail extensions, Spa, and Waxing.
Not to forget to French manicure and pedicure session, being in French she couldn’t miss it.
Vandita landed here late last night, making double payment in a nearby guest house she took the room and slept straight for 14 hours. She was exhausted – mentally, emotionally, and physically. The next she woke up, the lunchtime had passed. Ordering a plate of food she gobbled everything in minutes and Google searched for a good beauty salon. She needed a makeover. She was bored of her old self so here she was.
Pampering herself.
“You pretty, Madame,” The dresser said in broken English.
Vandita grinned at her through the mirror.
“Merci. It’s all your efforts Mademoiselle” She thanked her while practicing her long-forgotten French lessons.
She was grateful that Pati forced her to join those boring French classes at the age of 14. She hated the sound of her extra language classes but now she did everything to just remember the important words and phrases, including her blind trust in Google translator.
She took an appreciating glance at herself, her hairs were now a shade of brunette and coffee highlights. She let her fingers glide down her traces and smirked. Her arty nail extensions were sharp and could induce a lot of pain if pierced into the body.
