fifty-four

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54. yeh sunne ke liye toh mere kaan taras gaye the (I was dying to hear that from you.)

Warning: mature themes throughout the chapter.

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Her words brought back the memories I didn't want to remember.

"It's painful, it hurts and it's so uncomfortable!"

The anxiety settled into me faster than I realised. With a shake of my head, I pulled away, not willing to put us through it again. I would be stupid if I agreed because I know she is stupid enough to go through the whole thing even if she regrets it halfway. It established the fact that communication is still an undeveloped quality in our relationship.

"Wh- What happened?" She got up, covering herself with the robe awkwardly.

"My- My arm hurts," I lied.

I think she knew it was a lie. But she pretended it wasn't. I was grateful for that. I don't think I was ready for a confrontation yet, especially on this topic.

"Okay," she whispered, getting off the bed and rushing inside the bathroom. I flinched hearing the door slam closed.

I released my knees from the fold and sat down on the bed, reaching for the wet wipes on the nightstand to clean my hands. Her taste still lingered on my tongue, and the heat of the moment, of desire and lust still flared through my veins. But the passion wore off the moment she asked for me.

I wasn't ready for it.

I wasn't ready to think about my pleasure.

What if I prioritise myself over her again? What if I hurt her again? What if she lies again? And what if I fail to discern them from what she really felt?

She is the only good thing in my life right now. I can't ruin it by making myself the only bad thing in hers.

"Aditya," I didn't turn around completely but tilted my head in acknowledgment. "Are you still hurt about it?"

I shook my head.

Not hurt.

Probably scared, anxious, afraid, I guess.

"I trust you now." She muttered softly.

I nodded, not having anything to say. That's relieving to hear. But I don't trust myself yet. I don't want to be termed as a failure again. Especially in her life.

"This whole time I've been selfish, Aditya," her words stiffened me. "Every night I saw you going to the bathroom after we did it but I pretended to not notice. Why? Because I loved the pleasure and care you provided me in the bed. I knew you wanted me to give you the same attention and love in the bedroom as much as you give me, but I dwelled safely in my conservative bubble, telling myself that I'm not used to these things so I shouldn't force myself into it. But somewhere I knew it was because I just didn't want to. I wanted to bask in it as long as I can while overlooking the fact that my partner needs me just as much as I need him."

I swallowed the bubbling heaviness in my throat.

"Aditya," she whispered.

I hummed, not trusting myself to speak a word incase I stutter.

Instead of hearing her, I felt her, near me, on the bed. My eyes darted in her direction, locking on the smile dancing on her face. She was still wearing the same clothes, the knot of the robe lose on her stomach, the collar almost slipping off her arm. Her hair was a perfect mess, flawed in every direction, but still cascading like vines onto her shoulders, dark like night.

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