Parallel Lines | ✓

02. | Stand By Me

Annika looked at the draft glaring. She has been trying to finish the chapter for over an hour and here she was sitting with her laptop about to die with only forty-five words written on the page. She rubbed her eyes in frustration.

She had already passed the deadline of the book. Her manager had already warned her if she didn't manage to finish this book she better find another career for herself. Because writing was something not for her.

She was struggling to form the words in her mind. The cursor sat blinking at the screen. She sighed closing the laptop shut.

She stood up walking to the corner of the room, she sat down at the seat letting her fingers to be familiar with the black and white keys.

The melody transporting her to the world of her imagination, a word that she fails to describe into the words.

His strong hands secured around her waist while his eyes spitting fire.

Her hands moved across the keys on their own. The symphony created had a haunting beauty to it. She closed her eyes.

His hands tightened earning a gasp from her. The color of his eyes turned hazel from the reflection of sun which hit his face quite beautifully. His skin shimmered under the setting sun. His beard tickled her skin as her breath came out in soft gasps.

She opened her eyes suddenly. She fell asleep on the piano. She looked at the clock, half an hour. She straightened up and rushed to open the draft and penned down her thoughts, her fingers moving on their own. Her heartbeat quickened. She didn't know how it happened, she had just imagined herself romancing the villain she had created.

Little did she know it was not her last time.

<>

The social circle of her husband was something just pure cruel. They were relentlessly trying to drag her beneath their shoes and her husband let them.

"What does he see in her?" Her husband's friend sniggered, she was dressed in a golden gown. No matter how much she tries she can't escape the matrix.

"Honestly, I have expected he'd choose someone with a calibre who matched his but look at her."

"An author, she is. Ever read her works?"

"She is? How come I have never heard of her books."

"Because nobody reads them."

She was used to it by now. That's her fate. She spotted her husband chatting with the one who has insulted her initially he seemed to be enjoying himself. Taking her cue to leave, she exited the party leaving a gust of whispers on her wake. Her husband watched with disappointed eyes.

"You left early." He observed. She kept her eyes trained on the windows. "I wasn't enjoying myself there." She spoke quietly, deciding not to spare him glance. He sighed, "You're not gonna enjoy unless you engage yourself in them. You can't be seriously offended by what the lady had said." She this time turned to look at him glaring. "And why I shouldn't be?" Her husband scoffed. "You're a writer. You are always open to criticism. A little comment shouldn't offend you. Besides it was all harmless fun. You know that." Annika looked affronted at that. Arguing with her husband was as good as banging your head against a tree. She shook her head in disappointment and turned back to stare at the street lights. Without her knowledge she drifted off.

She woke up in familiar surroundings.

"So, you're awake finally." A voice next to her purred. She drowsily craned her neck to see the speaker. The same eyes. They stared down at her, their expression unreadable.