Dusk till Dawn.[ON HOLD]

Chapter 19. B)Sparks of defiance.

Aahana leaned into the headboard of the bed in Viyaan's room as the tight muscles of her back revolted, demanding for little respite. Her left hand found purchase in the rayon fabric of a crisp black shirt, clinging to her posterior like a second skin. The thumb and index finger of her right hand fiddled with the ring, rolling it once clockwise and then in an anticlockwise fashion. The dim traces of ochre hiding in the glut of her ambers shimmered with unshed tears.

Her tired eyes casted a forlorn look into the distance where dawn was just breaking. The beauty of the scenery unfolding outside the window and the familiarity of the place she was settled into was absolutely lost on her. For, the only vitality surging through every pore of her body was his absence from the last three years.

The first thing that had welcomed her on opening the door was a fog of thick and stale air. His room was clean and everything was in its right place but even from afar she could tell no one had dwelled here since a very long time. The vestiges of his scent, his feel, his laughs, his silent hums, his groans.... Each and every minute detail was bundled up in some invisible corner and what remained behind was an echo of the time lapsed in dearth of him and his warmth.

The room mirrored her condition just fine, infact more than fine. It resembled her so much, on so many levels and in so many contexts. To beholders, she appeared immaculate and impeccable. Devoid of visible scars and evident shifts! While the room, reflecting luxury from every nook and cranny, appearing the same as it was years ago would've deceived them in believing that the inhabitant of this space dwelled here 24*7.

However the verisimilitude was far from what was on the surface. The superficial magnificence both in her and his room belied the idiosyncrasy swimming in the depths. If anyone assessed her from close, they could see the loss of colorful glory and quintessence of grit which made Aahana, Aahana! None could decode the bug of loneliness plaguing her spirit from the way she carried herself. Her equanimity held zilch coating of her true state. No one, not even her family could point out that she wasn't living but just existing like a dead corpse.

And his room, it was sick. Usually it is a person suffering from home sickness but here it was completely the opposite. You can assume not just a room but the entire house was sick of his absence. The walls, the hallways, the alcoves, the balconies and even the murals missed the whiff of his comforting presence. The joy, the light, the fusion of love and peace, the bearer of geniality, the ballast of Niharika's life and the possessor of Yash's legacy.... The one who suffused life into every orifice of the house was missing and nothing, like aught would cope with the lack.

The loud reverberation of his non-attendance from silent niches was adding to her surfeit of melancholy. So to dissipate some of her uneasiness, she'd hurriedly pulled out one of his shirt and buried her face into it. For infinite minutes she stayed like that. With her face enfolded into the fabric - knowing his touch and - familiar with the way his muscles clenched and bunched underneath it.

But the lack of his scent in the shirt and also in her surroundings had aggravated her depressed state all the more. The sanctuary housing some of their best memories had rubbed her the wrong way instead of acting as a salve on her aching soul. She was beyond incensed and it was still the tip of an iceberg. The place where she'd come in search of peace had rudely slapped her with the crude reality that she'd kept on ignoring for long. And, the hit had mercilessly squandered the last of her semblance, rinsed out the remaining belief in her love and dented the perfect picture she had painted of her and him, hand in hand, face glowing with exultation, love pooling in the eyes and hearts satisfied to the brim.

The fact that he was shot and still unconscious was pushed to the back of her mind the moment reality fluttered its ugly wings. The pent up hurt, disappointment and rage came knocking down in a second at the recollection of his fucked up behavior post Sahil's wedding.