Book 3 of the Mangoverse
▪︎No matter how good the hero is, he is still a villain in someone's story▪︎
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A story of anti-heroes. Two people with a strong dislike for the world learn to thrive together in an arranged marriage.
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Two weeks since we have returned and my wife has only shown sadness for her brother. I understand what an asshole her father was but he was still her father. My wife sits on the couch in our room, a glass of wine in one hand and the other strokes Winne, our dog. She curls on the couch beside my wife and sleeps within seconds.
Veera finishes her glass of wine and refills it. "It's terrifying, how cool you are with your father's death. Would you atleast shed a few tears when I die?" She looks at me and shrugs. "Maybe."
Ah, yes. That makes me feel so much better. Now I can die in peace. I go back to my sketchbook, curving the lines of a fine collarbone. "What are you drawing?" I shrug. I am not gonna tell her that I find her so fascinating that all I've sketched in the recent days is her.
"What do you draw?" Now that is an interesting question. "Anything I find beautiful."
"So you're drawing something beautiful?" I shake my head. She asks too many questions. But I like answering.
"Something like that. Tonight it's not just beautiful, it's exquisite. It has more emotions. Pain, anger, sorrow, yet hope, sparks of life."
"That sounds complicated."
"It is." She takes another sip of her wine and looks away. Staring out the window before turning back.
"I've heard your sculptures hold a lot of life. Can I see?"
"Sure, Google it." She rolls her eyes so hard, I fear they might fall. "Why would I ask you if that's how I was to see them?" I drop my sketchpad and holds out my hand. She finishes her drink before standing up, taking my hand and following me to the store room beside my studio.
It's a beautiful room. It was eating dust without any reason, so I started keeping my sculptures, blank canvases and large buckets of paint in here. Now it looks lively. Better. I lock the door behind us, I've never let anyone in here and I don't intend to now. Veera stares in what I assume is awe at all the sculptures in here. She even traces her fingers over a few.
"They literally look like you put plaster over people's real faces." What a horrifying conclusion. "I'll take that as a compliment."
She shakes her head and moves around. "I submitted my final music today. The label liked it. My album would be out in a month." She turns back to me and I smile. "That's great."
"You're an amazing artist Vivaan."
"So are you, pineapples."
She takes a deep breath and I see her solemness dissipate. What is it about her that makes me want to drown myself into an abyss only to see her save me. I know she will.
"What would you do if I accidentally drop one of your sculptures on the ground?" What the fuck goes on in her head?
