forever (it's shorter than you expect)

yes, this is a champagne problems au

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Suyodhana sat in the compartment of the train he'd booked, mulling over his thoughts. He'd booked the night train for a reason, so that he could sit there between the noises of the bustling crowds in his hurt. People walked by, scurrying to meet their loved ones, and some people slept in the dead of the night, and when they'd wake up in the morning, it would be to the faces of the ones they loved.

Not Suyodhana. He sat alone, with no one to meet and no one's face to wake up to.

He didn't know which one was worse, because to his heart, still raw from the pain, he'd rather feel nothing at all.

Tears sprang up in his eyes as she thought of the hurt twisting his heart and stomach.

Did she have to do what she did?

Did she have to drop his hand as they danced, leaving him crestfallen on the landing, leaving him standing there like a fool who'd just been let go of by the one person he thought would be his forever?

He turned his wallet over in his hands, feeling the lump of his mother's ring. He couldn't bring himself to open it, because he knew her photo would be there, staring at him with those honey-like eyes that he so adored.

His heart of glass, that he'd given to her, was dropped by the one woman he'd let himself fall in love with.

What a fool he had been to tell everyone in his family, in her family, his friends and hers that he'd wanted to marry Krithika. His sister had brought out a bottle of newly-bought champagne.

After he told them what had happened, there was no more celebration, no more drinks, no more smiles, no more laughter.

He'd bought a bottle of Dom Perignon, her favourite champagne, and until that moment, everything was perfect.

Then came the storm. No crowd of friends applauding, every sceptic there shaking their heads in disapproval.

Young love, they'd whispered, is never true

He'd wanted to prove them wrong, he'd had a speech, and then he was left speechless in front of everyone there. The one he'd loved had slipped beyond his reaches.

And she hadn't bothered giving a reason.

What had everyone called it?

He answered himself.

They'd called it champagne problems.

His mother, what had she said about his dreams of a forever?

Again, only he answered himself, a bitter tear making its way down his cheek, falling onto the dress pants he'd bought for the special occasion that had turned resentful.

His mother had told him that forever, that beautiful word, never actually meant what it was supposed to. Its meaning was never encompassed in those seven letters.

His mother had said that as a word, a feeling, as three syllables of hurt, forever, it's shorter than you expect.

As he leaned against the window of the train, he found himself sucked into the past.

She used to say that his touch on their Chevy car's door was like Midas'. She's said that he'd turned every memory in there golden, like their secret meetings and her birthday they celebrated there last year.

He remembered how the day had gone by, as he'd wished the day could stay still forever.

With the November flush on their still youthful cheeks, and his flannel shirt she'd gifted him, that memory wasn't mere gold to him.

No, it was even more valuable than the most valuable thing in the world.

They'd come across a house on that day, and he'd told her, he'd told her that that dorm was once a madhouse.

She'd joked that it was made for her.

He'd chuckled then, and he chuckled now.

Their group of friends, so evergreen, had planned a surprise for her, he remembered, as he explored his memory.

She used to hate that word.

She. She. She. Shesheshesheshesheshe.

Everything was connected to her.

When they'd drifted apart the first time, it had barely lasted two days, but she'd said, with all her bitterness, that those friends would soon have the nerve to deck the halls that they'd once walked through.

He thought of her favourite idiom.

One for the money, two for the show.

He realised what a bitter rhyme that made with one of her last words to him.

I'll never be ready, so I'll watch you go.

He remembered something his sister had told him after he'd told her the horrible twist the night had taken.

Her sister had said that sometimes, you won't know the answer until someone goes on their knees and asks you.

Krithika hadn't known her answer to his question until he'd knelt down, and her answer had been one that promised heartbreak.

Another thing his sister had told him made him give out another acidic laugh.

She would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in the head.

He found himself drifting away into all those memories that turned bitter in the aftermath.

***

Krithika sat on the porch, openly crying. The passess-by assumed it was because a man broke her heart.

No, she wanted to scream. I broke his heart.

But he'd find the real thing, someone who was not her. He'd find a woman who'd patch up the beautiful tapestry of his that she'd shred.

He'd find someone who'd hold his hand while they danced, who'd never leave him standing there, crestfallen, like she had.

He'd find someone more deserving of the ring in his wallet.

He'd find someone more deserving to fill the gap in his pocket, to have a picture of.

He wouldn't remember her champagne problems.

He'd find a better forever, a forever that was rightfully his.

Someone who was not her.

Forever, she thought, was shorter than you'd expect.

***

but really, when is krithika's birthday?

also, this was orginally supposed to be malini and her ex, but then i was like nah, her ex doesn't have the apologetic tone the song has.