Dastaan Jo Likhun

Ch 21. Blossoming Binds

___________ Context __________

I have used images to aid in storytelling, so please read through the texts to get the subtext and play the bgm attached when prompted to get the full experience.

Note: This chapter involves confessions of a character who is basically a young teenager. The dialogues are babyish to maintain authenticity. So please follow along and enjoy!

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Time: 1:12 pm

[Same time as last scene of prev. ch.]

Tossing and turning didn't work. 

Fluffing up her stale pillows also didn't help.

Covering her face with her cozy blanket was also a lost cause.

Because she was not at peace anymore.

In the black night of their colorful encounter, her mind conjured up his eyes in the shadows.

Bright brownish yellow... almost golden in the sun.

Layered with specks of honeycomb mesh... that peered into her thoughts... 'Does he know?'

His calm expression didn't reveal much... just his laser eyes, asking her something... 'Par kya?'

The cracks of his smile... and his request at the very end... reeked of familiarity up-close. Not like she was meeting a stranger. 'Kaise ?'

She replayed their encounter in the solace of her thoughts when they left the garden. Grateful for the silence her siblings provided her with. 

Her brothers were busy in their own hushed discussions... with faint music playing in the background, and her sister was too tired to care. Choosing to take a quick nap on their way home.

But her case remained the same, her pattering heart mused to the beat of the music as she played with the tactile damp cloth in her hand. His second souvenir. 

His handkerchief seemed very plain and simple to the human eye, but to her it embodied his pristine image. Standing tall and domineering... like the simple '𝓐' that was embroidered on one corner.

Like his long fingers... well groomed and proper... wrapped around her wrist on many occasions. 

Like a gentle vice grip around her... painful, yet soothing.

She could still feel his cold touch like a phantom bracelet over her left wrist... how his thumb gently caressed her thundering pulse. 

'Could he tell ?,' she questioned, as she moved the blanket off her face abruptly. Embarrassed.

Wincing as her eyes adjusted from the sterile darkness to the faint moonlight streaming in through the window pane. 

Huffing, she turned to her right with her back to her slumbering sister. Aarohi was softly snoring away her exhaustion but she, herself, couldn't sleep.

Softly getting out of bed, she walked over to her window seat... beside the pictures of her parents... her mother. 

Hoping for her [Naira's] phantom subconscious presence to coerce her into sleep, with a soothing lullaby.