[Sequel of Warm Love, hence can't be read as a standalone.]
In the first phase, Reyansh concealed a web of mysteries, but as they stand face to face once more, it's Kiraz who holds the tantalizing secrets waiting to be unveiled. These hidden truths...
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Miracles happens!
They do. People who are still yet to known, will always speak against this phrase.
Imperfection occurs, so does it occur in miracles. Miracles are imperfect, tainted by the flaw of our perfectly constructed expectations. We forget that perfection is spoken by many, heard by many, dreamt by many, yet holds no dominion in reality.
Miracles do happen, just that we forget to see, all we are blinded by our expectation which always becomes a tint of disappointment.
I, too, once believed miracles were a lie, a scandalous deception. Until, a few years ago, one enveloped me in its embrace. And now, in these past few days, another miracle unfolds before me.
At nights, when the heart of a lover cried in the pain of its beloves love, cried for its separation from the one person it ever looked as if the moon has graced itself before them. When the night licked all my warmth, nudging me towards a pandora box, few words had managed to slip past my lips. My heart hushing the protest of my minds, making the words trespass in my full conscience, I offer up a prayer to God, seeking solace amidst the chaos of my shattered soul.
Please, God, give me my Reyansh. I cannot bear to live without him. I never had the chance to express how deeply I love him, how much he means to me. Please, bring him back into my life.
I cried myself to sleep, only to be haunted by dreams that I once called nightmares.
I found myself amidst a sea of tall, slender blades of grass, their gentle caress kissing my bare toes as I ran towards him. He stood there, hands tucked into his pockets, while the wind danced around us, teasing the hem of my dress and tousling my hair, urging me closer to him.
The soft orange glow of the sun bathed him in its warmth, accentuating his brown skin. My legs moved of their own accord, driven by the fervent desire to reach him, to crash into his embrace. And when I finally did, I buried my face in the curve of his neck, finding solace in his scent.
"Reyansh, I need to tell you something," I began, but he silenced me with a gentle touch of his fingers against my lips.
"Not now," he murmured, his voice soothing yet distant. "I've been away from home for too long. Let me bask in its glory a little while longer."
And he held me tightly, as he always did, his embrace a sanctuary from the chaos of the world. But the words, as they always did, remained on the tip of my tongue.
I woke with a sweet smile and a heart filled with contentment, only to be met with the harsh reality that I lay in bed alone, my body cocooned in the warmth of a blanket I had mistaken for Reyansh, the pillow a poor substitute for the curve of his neck.
Disappointment gave rise to silent wishes, fleeting desires that whispered through me.
