Love Letters

{~}

"Silence," a voice muttered on hearing a chuckle popping out of Ayaan's throat.

Ayaan's eyes were stern as he stared at the paper in his hand.

"What are you reading?" Ayaan heard her curious voice, grabbing his attention from the letters. Suhana had removed the white coat as her beautiful suit came into view. The heart warming smile playing on her lips made her more beautiful.

"Are you going to at least tell me who the girl is?" Ayaan hadn't missed a hint of jealousy concurring Suhana's voice. He restrained himself from smirking at her.

"Love letters..." Ayaan shrugged his shoulder making Suhana's eyes widen in shock. "Not mine... I am not that cheap..." he felt a need to clarify his reputation.

"Who has written love letters to you?" Suhana found it unbelievable. Ayaan was a tough guy from the exterior and though women drool over his handsome features none would build up the courage to approach such a guy.

Ayaan glared at her, seeing her providing him with a stunned expression. It humiliated his pride as if it made him feel that he didn't deserve such attention.

"How is she?" Ayaan came direct to the point wanting to get out of hell. Though Suhana was the closest thing to what he could call a friend yet he craved solitude. He had emotionally as well as physically withdrawn from the world around him.

"Getting better... but maybe it will take her days to recover or even get out of unconsciousness."

"So, there isn't any chance of knowing her identity," Ayaan muttered those words to himself.

"Are you going to give me a hint of what's the case?" Suhana inquired getting concerned about Ayaan. He was in a mess if the girl's family lodged a complaint against him.

"She came under my wheels," Ayaan rolled it so usually out of his tongue as if it wasn't a big deal. The person listening to him would be convinced that he didn't give a shit but Suhana knew him better than that, she knew if he didn't care he might have left the body on the road to decay and wouldn't have rushed to the hospital. He wouldn't have been standing in front of her with his white shirt, strained with blood, his arms carrying her blood, and rather than washing it off waiting to receive information whether the unknown stranger was alive.

Ayaan turned to put the papers back into the purse, and Suhana called him. "Where are you going?"

"Home..." he muttered without adding anything further as he strolled down the corridor.

"When are you going to start living again?" Suhana kept staring at his retreating figure with concern written on her face.

•••

Ayaan felt the suspicious, judging orbs surrounding him as he walked out of the car towards his room. The guard and housekeepers were staring at him from distance. They knew better than to question his disoriented state.

It wasn't the first time they had glanced at his messy state. He often ended up in a drunken state, his white cotton shirts tapping out of his pant. That black tie was on the verge of ending up on the floor, the knot on the end still holding it around his neck and his suit was lost. The only attention-grabbing part was blood occupying his features. The staff was convinced that their millionaire boss was  finally converted into a murderer.

Ayaan wasn't affected by their stares. It was as if he hardly was aware of those judging orbs. He strolled towards his room, dragging his feet to move. It seemed like alcohol was again having control over his senses. The accident that happened a few hours back had brought him back to his senses but the minute he walked into his mansion, he felt the urge to dwell into the intoxicating waves of subconsciousness. He wanted to forget himself, forget that world existed, he existed.