Making You Mine

twenty five - seeking solace

"Here. One more spoon." Akshara held the spoon up to Abhimanyu's lips.

Abhimanyu swallowed the spoonful of tomato soup. "Hmm." He moved his mouth away, placing a hand up onto his mouth to gesture he was done eating.

Akshara put the bowl of soup away, and grabbed a small white towel, gently dabbing his mouth to wipe his face clean of any remnants of food.

Abhimanyu watched Akshara, his eyes full of affection, gratitude and awe as she fluffed his pillow, rested another pillow under his leg, straightening it out on a plateau and covered his body up to his waist with a blanket.

"How're you feeling? The physiotherapist said you did good today. Showed some improvement." Akshara pointed out, glancing at Abhimanyu fully, making sure he was well settled and comfortable in his bed.

Abhimanyu nodded his head, his throat clogging up, his waterline dancing on the verge of tears, his eyes full of unspoken emotion, feelings as he stared at Akshara, lovingly, gratefully, immensely ashamed of his own behaviour towards her.

Selfless. Even after what he'd done to her, kept her in the dark, treated her, she will, willingly and happily was doing her best to nourish him back to health.

It had been 3 days since he had been discharged from the hospital after 5 days of constant probing and poking from the doctors. And Akshara had been there every step of the way. She had been there, asking him if he needed help and assistance from the moment he woke up to the time he fell asleep.

He'd open his eyes, and she'd be the first face he'd see. The first face whose presence his eyes searched for. She had no malice in her heart, just pure selflessness.

He watched as she tucked the lose strands of hair behind her ears and smiled down at him. Her eyes were puffy and the bags beneath her eyes indicated she hadn't spelt a wink since his accident.

"Let me know if you need anything else, okay? I'll be in my art room." Akshara informed him. As she turned around to leave, she felt Abhimanyu's hand grasp hers, interweaving his fingers tightly with hers.

"Please stay." He whispered, his voice breaking into a heartfelt plea, striking a chord in Akshara's heart.

Akshara turned around and sat down on the edge of the bed, beside Abhimanyu. Unwilling to let go of Akshara's hand, trying to prolong the proximity, Abhimanyu held Akshara's hand in his lap, staring down at it, in complete and utter silence.

"Abhimanyu...," Akshara broke the silence.

"I was 5 when it happened to me the first time. Or well, 5 when I was old enough to understand what was happening. I still hear his voice in the back of my head. The screams. The yelling. Every. Little. Thing. That's why I'm unable to sleep at night. I even tried taking sleeping pills, prescription medication, nothing helped."

Abhimanyu kept his eyes focused on Akshara's hand which he was holding to for dear life. His last shred of sanity. His repentance.

"He kicked me in the stomach. You know why, Akshara?" He questioned bitterly, looking up at her with blood shot eyes.

Akshara shook her head softly. "No."

"Because I was trying to protect my mother. Trying to protect her from the physical, emotional, and mental abuse of that vile, vapid, alcoholic man whose genes I carry. I originally grew up in a very lower middle class family. My father was laid off from his job when he suffered an injury. And that's why my mother had to start working. Because after he got laid off, my father turned to alcohol as his best friend."

Abhimanyu took a deep breath to calm himself down. "Day by day, I saw the hatred in my father's eyes grow for my mother once she became the primary breadwinner in our family. His uselessness drove him deeper into his alcoholism. He began suspecting my mother of having affairs, being a whore. Everything. All because he was insecure of his masculinity and his place as the primary breadwinner."