"It was all for her, what I found within me!"
-Ranbir Kohli
The concert was a week away now and the entire time, he had been preoccupied with rehersals. Yet in a way, it had been a welcome week away from each other. The pain in his throat had subsided but he wasn't much closer to being completely okay with just a week that had passed. Still, he trudged on, letting himself enjoy the music he was playing, while seeking strength in the tune that he wove with the prowess of his fingers. A strength that was needed if he had to play his last strike against her, the one that should break her walls completely because what she had fortified herself into had to be destroyed to free her from this perpetual pain she had accepted and wielded as her only way of living.
The tune was a melody which felt tender, soft but also protective, like it could stand against the disturbing frequencies of unearthing disasters on the sheer intent of its emotion. Like it could caress a love, one which bloomed quietly for a sarcophagus that still punctured the walls with bleeding nail cuts to seek relief, with tenderness as a catalyst because it had recognized the wounded soul beneath all of it! With each strum of his guitar, he felt it settle deep within him - he was the tune. His love for her that had grown amidst recognizing her pain as intimately as his own, without knowing her past or anything about her, this love that had had him look at a stranger and make a resolve he would heal her, be it whatever the cost he had to pay. Even if he had stumbled through it, even if all his efforts would be in vain because how was he to know what remained if the armour holding her broke, even if the armor is built was one of pain and poison.
He ended the song to an applause by the crew but all he could think was, at the end of it, if all that lay were pieces, would they wedge right into him as a sacrifice or would his love be a breath she would allow within her periphery? Even so, would that be enough, all of these splinters melted, to heal a heart that he had not a complete idea as to what she had endured! The tune has resolved his stance, his strike, even if the analogy was her chosen one, not what he liked to see it as but what lay at the end of it for him, he realized, he had no clue. His love for her propelled his steps but the question lodged a sense of acceptance within him- like an anticipation that settled in the one headed for an altar- embellished both in the sanctity of the sacrifice and the inevitability of it!
_
It is a persistent tug under her skin, a feeling she can neither fathom nor bury. She has neither seen nor spoken to him since the day she executed her strike and not one moment has passed since, that has brought her the contentment that her success should have. Instead, even with what she knit back in herself, this feeling continued, so nascent within her yet already immune. A restlessness, that first triggered irritation as a response, now seemed to have transitioned to triggering the fear she had long evaded.
What was happening to her?
The blade clutched in her hand was stained red yet it brought no relief. She curled into herself, oblivious to the bleeding cut on her leg. What was it that she couldn't bury in the fortifying walls of her defences, couldn't muffle under the onslaught on her embellished skin that always cut her pain so effectively? For the first time in years, she felt something that wasn't numbness and anger. She felt rattled and the mask of hatred she had woven back faltered bit by bit, more and more as each day passed. In the prison of her house, in the cold she imbibed as protection that she chose years ago and never looked back, she felt the first stumble where warmth lingered despite her best efforts.
What she was still unaware of, was that another splinter had slipped right off where it was embedded within her and the ease was the vulnerability that wrapped her arms around herself even if she, in that state, couldn't recognize it for what it was - a gesture of self soothing, of comfort!
_
A week passed in more rehersals and preparations. When the final day arrived, he was prepared.
The singer he was paired with, had a soulful voice but the lyrics were lost to him, as he was lost to the tune. With each stum of his guitar, it remained as potent on him as every other time he played it, taking him away from the world and to the place in his mind where she lived, not as the sculpture that endured or the enigma that obscured what snatched everything from her, but as the essence, the soul in her that poured out in each word that she wrote and each story that she wove. Where he was now, she was dressed in white, just like his vision, yet there was something soft along her edges, something delicate. There was still no smile on her face and the ice still followed her but she felt alive in the way the tune he saw himself as, made him feel.
And when it ended and he came into, to loud applauses, he knew he had found the strength he had been seeking from this tune. The strength to see her soften, free from all the horror she has locked within herself, even if he may never know the extent of it. Even if he may have to walk away with nothing but her splinters lodged in his heart.
Because it was simple - It was love. She was love and there was nothing beyond love, beyond her!
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Hello guys,
Back here after a very long time. I have tried so many times but somehow never liked what I wrote for this story. But after a long period of writer's block, I'm back with the next update. Hope you like it and that this is not completely disconnected from the flow.
Do share your feedback.
Love,
Pratyusha
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Splinters Of Ice | Pranbir
Fanfiction..... Prachi x Ranbir AU ...... // Can be read as general fiction // An enigma she was, unfathomable depths she held within herself. Every interaction with her asserted the same. Yet like moth to the flame, he was drawn to her irrevocably. The plung...
