dead girls don't love [dgdl]

chapter 15 \u

HOW MUCH THINGS CAN CHANGE in the span of a few years one can not imagine. In a moment, life may or may not raise one from nothing to having it all. But, it does have the power to drag one from the wards of a palace to shards.

When Ashna looked at her sister in front of her, she could barely recognise her. She had the same brown eyes, more serene now. Her hair had the same grace. So frail as a flower. It felt like if one even barely touched her, she would break.

Still, she sat there, draped in a white flower-printed georgette saree, smiling at Ashna. "You know I was missing this place," she said, sipping cold coffee as she held the glass closer to her.

Near her left eye was a blue bruise so light one could mistake it for nothing.

Ashna's eyes lingered there for a moment until Ivanya's eyes captured hers. "Hey!" Ivanya called, waving her other hand that was holding the straw a second ago in front of her. "Where are you lost, madam?" She teased.

Ashna shook her head. "Nowhere," she relaxed on her chair, taking the glass in her hand, filled with Chocolate shake.

She looked almost fine and talked like all was good. But then she always talked as if everything was okay when it was not. Only at times, Ashna had met Ivanya at her place, could she see the edge in her actions and words.

So this was the cafe, on a street two blocks away from Ivanya's house. Plain, simple and almost buzzing with people. Yet one of the best because all their drinks tasted amazing.

"How are you, Ivanya?" Ashna taunted. She always irked her. Ivanya knew this.

"Fine," Ivanya dipped her head to the side as she smiled.

"Then why am I here?" Ashna asked.

As she sipped, her eyes darted to the cafe to those couples who were sitting closely together, nestled into each other, some flirting as their hands were entangled; it was all so romantic and love-engaged that she felt cringed.

Fake, she knew most of that was.

Distasteful.

"Well," Ivanya pondered, "because you are my sister, and I am here to see you."

Ashna brought her eyes back to Ivanya, she knew better than that. "Don't fucking kid me, Ivanya."

"Fine," Ivanya sighed.

She pulled a file from her purse that she had hung on the corner of the backseat of the chair. "Here," she forwarded it towards Ashna. 

"Please talk to Mrs. Emilia, she is visiting to meet you and you just have to give her this file, except for the copy of her contact details inside, and—" Ivanya went silent.

"And what?" Ashna questioned.

"Why can't you do it yourself?" Ashna kept the glass down, "Ivanya," she bent forward, "How did you get to her?"

Ashna knew Ivanya had barely kept any contacts. In college, she made friends but when she bailed out, they moved on too.

There were her school friends who asked for Ivanya sometimes but she did not have them left anymore too. Ivanya got away like she had never existed.

If that is what love does, if it cuts one from their family and friends, Ashna wishes she never feels it.

But even someone as uninterested in love as Ashna knows, this was pure torture.

Possessiveness.

Ownership.

And, it could not be love.