Nothing's Conventional About Us

I ~ Black

I have always been a fan of the dark.
The dark night, the dark sky,
And some dark corners of my soul.
Black is my colour.
But then you walked in.
Now you are my colour. Black. Still my soul.

~~~

Black

He had a bad feeling. Like his intestines were knotting together in the dismay of deceit. Again. The traces of the amber liquid on his tongue went bitter. Like the hidden bitterness in them was fighting its way out from behind the layers and layers of addictive sweetness.

It sickened him.

Had Krishna really just deceived him? Is this is what the Divine's deceit tasted like? So harshly sweet that it beat bitter?

His rage rose like a lion that had just been slashed across its face. Hissing and growling and menacing, fighting against the shackles of his sombre expression as Duhshala introduced him to a bevy of giggling princesses. Thankfully, Subhadra kept a comparatively straighter face.

He was grateful for that strand of sanity. Because the sanity that Bhanumati offered in the form of glances which seemed to linger forever, was quite the opposite of that. The urge to single out Subhadra and inquire her regarding her brother's whereabouts was almost uncontrollable. 

But his pride intervened.

"And this is Padma.", he tuned into Duhshala's boring introductions of her girlfriends with the intention of distracting himself. She was talking about a girl of average height, complexion as fair as every other princess in sight and pale brown eyes. She was pretty, and like every other princess, was aware and proud of it. A pride that lay hidden under the meekness that seemed to be the social badge of femininity. She folded her hands in greeting and blood rushed to her cheeks, painting them pink. 

He waited to see if any other princess was yet to be introduced. But in the small riot of magenta, crimson, orange and yellow, she finished the introductory round. He finally folded his hands in greeting and swept his eyes across the face of every princess who had been introduced and still remained nameless to him, and said, "Greetings, ladies." Even to his own ears his voice sounded colder than the mountains in the north that wore nothing but white. 

His discreetly nodded to Duhshala whose disappointment showed on her face, and made a move to leave. Bhanumati's voice stopped him.

"Just 'Greetings, ladies'? Is that the charm that I have heard so much about?"

The girl must have had some steel in her spine if she could say that out loud to him. Almost every other princess gasped. Subhadra's eyes widened in alarm, and Padma's dainty palm flew to cover her mouth. The Princess of Kalinga, apparently, prided herself in being the vixen in a herd of timid deer. It was written all over her face. 

If there was one thing he knew about pride it was, that it never allowed one to reach a hand out when their calls have been ignored even once.

Etiquette forced him to reply, even as a faint waft of a hauntingly beautiful fragrance clouded his senses. "Rumours are rarely spread by the one who they are about. Beware not to trust them again.", he could not bring himself to deliver the planned smile by the end of the statement.

His eyes gravitated towards the entrance of the hall. There was no riot of colours there. Just a single, dark palette of hues that fought against each other one moment and complemented each other the next.