Aashiqui - A Love Story.

.XI.

2019

Pembroke Castle, UK.

"And, I win! Again!" Abir's loud voice booming in the castle was not what Akshara expected, but a smile formed on her face. Because finally, Mishti was opening up to him. A week's time had already passed and the Oscars event was nearing. She had been extremely tensed about what Mishti would do, but thanks to him, she seemed less inclined towards it.
"Do you really know the game or were you bluffing?" Akshara entered the room as soon as Abir asked Mishti the question.
"Piss off!" She grumbled and shook her head.

"Definitely the second one. She doesn't know how to play." Abir laughed loudly at that, and received another death stare which he had got accustomed to.
"There you are. Thought your husband finally decided to show some mercy on me and keep you at home." Mishti remarked and her friend too laughed on that. Nobody deemed to be serious about her words nowadays, thanks to the person whom she lost Monopoly to.
"He loves me too much but he knows I'd kill him if he ever did that." Mishti scoffed.
"True love." She rolled her eyes.

"Hey! Not to intrude-"
"You have already. Just get on with it." Abir now returned the glare. Mishti zipped her mouth and patiently waited for the query.
"Why don't you stock these meds here? I used to give insulin injections to Baba, so I can do it. You just have to travel all the way from Westminster to here." He suggested. Akshara paled at that. It was true, she had that choice. But she didn't want to choose it. Ever since Mishti's accident, she was the one who took care of her. She was the one who wanted to. And the sole reason was to spend more time with her.

"Uh, Akshara?" Abir snapped his fingers. He was shocked to see the doctor's face fall. She had zoned out, clearly. And Mishti, she was hiding her face.
"Abir, I really-"
"She wants to spend time with me. Is it wrong?" Mishti asked. Abir sensed the change of tone but didn't really care as her mood swings were prominent.
"No, but-"
"Then stop yapping about it and do your job. Fetch those Bree&Co's files from my office." She ordered.

"Mishti-"
"Now. Abir." He shut his mouth, knowing that he could not argue against her highness. He retreated, slumping his shoulders in annoyance. But an irrational part of his brain wanted to stand near the door and listen in to their conversations, and that's what he did.
"Did you really had to do that?" Mishti hissed as the needle pierced her skin.
"He doesn't need to know that his employer wants to die before he jabs a promotion. Let him be delusional." Those words stung him. There was a burning sensation near his ribs. He wanted to eliminate it by calling it mere gastric but he knew it wasn't.

"Mishti, how many times do I have to tell you? You aren't dying. Not in my hands." Akshara snapped at her.
"I know. You don't need to manage this disaster." He leaned against the door hearing that. She really did think so lowly of her. But where was the girl who laid down beside him, talking about constellations!
"Akshara! Gather yourself, damn it. I don't want to console you over my choices. It's my wish. Please allow me that much." This was new. Mishti never said please. She never urged anything from anyone. All she had to do was flick her fingers and the task would be done.

"Don't do that to me, Mishti. Don't fucking do that. I deserve a chance to change your mind. Abir does. Hell even your mother does too!" Mishti looked at her friend, in anger and empathy. She knew her heart was breaking to hear her talking about death but what else was Mishti supposed to do! It was the only way she had to adopt to make things easier when she really left from this wretched world. Mishti wanted her friend to know that it was her choice, in the end.

"Abir doesn't know jack shit and I want it to remain that way. He doesn't need to show more sympathy than he's already showering upon me with." Abir scoffed. All this time, she was thinking that he was pitying her. But he could get her. Who has ever treated her normally after what she went through!
"As to my mother, she's the woman who birthed me, so it's obligatory for her to feel the need. The need to save her blood and flesh." This hurt him. Mishti was in so much pain and didn't know how to release it. Be free from it.

"But Abir does have the right to know, Mishti. I know you have a soft spot for him. He doesn't sympathise with you, you know what you said was a lie." Mishti rolled her eyes at Akshara decoding her words, as always.
"What's gonna change if I accept the truth?" She asked, knowing that Akshara didn't have an answer.
"Nothing would. You like him, he does too. You have a chance. Don't let it go, not this time." Mishti just chuckled at her words.
"Don't know what you're talking 'bout." That resulted into another conversation that Abir didn't quite listen to.

He was determined to make her live.

He realised, at that moment, that he'd give her all the love that existed beyond and above the cosmos.

To prove that a life with him was worth more than the death she craved.

Present

"Where is she, Abir?" Jiya's question startles Abir. He scratches his thumb with the other finger, to respond that question. Because even he did not have an answer.
"You could leave. We'll continue this tomorrow." His uninterested reply makes Jiya frown. What was he hiding! No matter how hard she tries, Jiya cannot pin point what exactly could have happened, for Abir to remain in a place that reminded him of Mishti.
"Is that why you fought so hard for this palace? Because you want to keep something that makes you reminisce her." Abir closes his eyes, to calm himself down. She had no right to assume things about him, but what she said wasn't wrong.

He had ran around the legal authorities for 3 years to gain the custody for this palace. Mishti's parents, especially her father did not let it go easily. Finally, it took Abir months to convince him, the palace go to the not for profit organisation he had built, in his initial years of college. The NGO was rightfully Abir's but the name belonged to someone else. He had changed the front of the non profitable venture to MM organisation. After his one true inspiration, Mishti Maheshwari.

"Abir bhai! I need to talk to you." Kunal's call for a conversation makes him look at Jiya.
"We'll do this tomorrow. Just text me when you want to schedule it." He says.
"Sure. I'll let you know in the morning." Jiya replies, surely disappointed about being robbed from the remaining story.
"Don't worry. I'm not running away." Abir chuckles, looking at her pale face.
"I know. But the plot's too interesting to give it up so soon. Plus, this palace is a sight to watch." She groans.
"Strange. I've gone sick of watching the same wall paintings." Abir smiles at the fact that they are having a normal conversation.

"Then we can meet at the bridge where it all started." Jiya suggests suddenly. Even she doesn't know what came over her to drop the place's name. But she was kind of interested to look at it.
"Uh, sure. Whatever time." Abir shrugs, letting her know that it was okay.
"Alright. See you then." Jiya shakes his hand, smiling a bit.
"You too. Bye, Jiya. Take care." Patting her head, he grins and retreats towards the door where Kunal was waiting for him.

"What is it?" Kunal looks at his brother, in worry.
"This came earlier." He hands him the letter.

Mishti Maheshwari

One word shook his entire demeanor. Abir's stunned face makes his brother tense up. He was having an inner conflict earlier, whether to provide his brother the piece of paper. But that sheet contained valuable information, he believed. And the trepidations that Abir faced for the past years blurred in his brother's eyes. Kunal wished a good closure for him. After enough debate with himself, he had dared to deliver the letter. But, now he was definitely regretting it.

"Bhai, I didn't know-"
"Where did this come from, Kunal?" He asks urgently.
"There was no from address." Abir slumps his shoulders down.
"Are you okay?" Kunal questions.
"Yes. Yes, absolutely. I'll let you know if I need anything." He didn't need to mention twice, as his younger brother left Abir alone.

Slowly, he opens the envelope, holding his breath. Then he starts to read the letter that held not only words, but his entire world in a fierce grip.

But, is a paper ever enough for love?

To be continued