Her Secret

Chapter 10 - HS

A/N: Kindly read the italic part of the author's note at the end as it's a VERY IMPORTANT announcement that I've made.

"A WORLD THAT THEY MADE TOGETHER AND BROKE TOGETHER"

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She ran. Ran till her breath was caught in her throat, ran till her lungs wanted to give up, ran till her legs strained, ran till she felt like she'll collapse if she stops. She ran all the way down the staircase, not pausing even if her footing was disturbed, not stopping for the rain that poured over her, drenched her. She ran till she knew she was out of his sight, out of his radar, till she made sure she couldn't hear his breathing, listen to his heart beating in sync with her own, inhale the scent of him.

But all of it was a lie.

She ran because she wasn't strong enough to face him. She stands with her head held high amongst a crowd of millions of greedy men waiting for her to make one mistake, but she couldn't even turn her head when he stood behind her. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything.

She felt herself forget everything and lean on him. All her self-control, all her breathing exercises, mental exercises, everything that she did to control her emotions and herself went down the drain with just a single touch of his. Her skin burnt as the distance between them increased.

His scent that now surrounded her made her feel nauseous. It felt consuming. It was consuming. It took away her senses, her control. She felt lack of herself, she felt she was his. She is his. She knows but she couldn't accept it when he was there, standing where she was.

Like always, she left him standing there, waiting for her to turn, to look and to say something. But she said nothing, she didn't turn. She couldn't lose the left-over self-consciousness she had over herself. She wasn't fond of losing herself again. She trusted him once, twice, even thrice and he broke it every time.

Their relationship has never been healthy. Her past always brings the worst out of her, and his mistakes make him draw himself back. What they have is something so beautiful yet broken. Mending their relationship isn't possible until she mends herself first, and for that she needs to end this war, she needs to win it and return back because losing isn't an option.

She entered her car and sped off to the mansion. Her breathing, her heartbeat, her vision, her hearing, everything was a mess. Her saree was crumpled, wrinkles adorning the cloth that stuck to her skin. The pallu dirty because of being dragged on the muddy stairs. Her hair was hazardous because of the wind, her silky and shiny hair were sticking to her back in a tangled mess. She herself was a mess.

Her hands trembled as she held the steering wheel, she blinked out of the haze, asking herself to come out of it for some time. She can react afterwards; she has to reach a safe place first. Her car sped past all others, in her hurry to reach the mansion she broke all traffic rules, almost getting caught into an accident.

She ran out of her car and inside the mansion, her drenched body wetting the floor. Skipping past the empty hall, she immersed out in the garden. Her vision blurred. Her feet felt heavy. Her lungs constricted. She fell on the grassy land, her knees giving up. She felt out of breath.

Her fingers trembled. His face appeared in front of her eyes. His hauntingly black eyes scarring her soul, imprinting her heart with his mark. The memories she kept away locked in a corner were returning back, escaping from her hold. Her control losing with every passing second.

Rain hit her struggling frame and the tears stored inside her were released, given the freedom to trace her skin. His touch evoked a familiar pain inside her. The feeling of him left her aching. He was there. Right there, behind her. He held her, saved her, caught her, like he always did. Yet she couldn't help herself from running.