Bound by Hearts

34. Lean On

(This chapter will not disturb anyone and is free to read without any triggers.) 

Abhimanyu's Pov.

A brutal headache jolted me awake, my skull throbbing from last night's antics. Sunlight pierced through the blinds making me wince and moan as I cracked open my eyes.

My hand fumbled for my phone. I peered at the screen struggling to make out the numbers.

"Shit," I grumbled. The clock read 8:30 AM. My first lecture was at 9:00 AM, and I had zero time to spare.

"Just my luck. Screw everything!"

Getting up felt like wading through quicksand. The hangover hit me like a ton of bricks, each movement sending shockwaves through my noggin.

Yet as the pounding in my head wretched portions of my brain, one thought stuck – Amara.

She popped into my head first thing every morning, her absence leaving a hole in my heart. My mind always flooded with snapshots of her – that radiant grin, infectious giggle, and those brown eyes full of love and the flickers of gold that passed them everytime she felt any emotion as she gazed at me.

Now, those memories stung with shame and regret stark reminders of how I'd screwed up.

Losing her again and again due to my actions ate at me non-stop.

"I'm always to blame for everything," I grumbled, my words dripping with resentment.

I lurched into the bathroom cold tiles jolting my feet. The shower's rush of water felt like an attack on my senses, yet oddly centering. Steam filled the tiny room shutting out the turmoil in my head.

The hot water poured over me as I stood there trying to empty my thoughts.

But the fear of what may have occurred with Amara's and when I would receive any news about her being alright was driving me to the brink of insanity and back. I squeezed my eyes shut hoping the memories would vanish, yet knowing they were a piece of me I couldn't shake off.

Back in my room, I hastily dressed, my movements sluggish. Every item of clothing felt heavier than usual, as if burdened by the weight of my remorse. Grabbing my bag and keys, I rushed out the door, the city streets bustling around me.

The Ducati stood waiting for me, a sleek black frame of the bike and the thrill of the numbingly high speed always felt like freedom amidst all the chaos.

With a heavy heart, I swung my leg over the seat and settled onto the bike. The familiar rumble of the engine roared to life beneath me, drowning out the worrisome of thoughts in my mind – thoughts of Amara, of Aman and his betrayal and now his death and Jasmine... Fuck she pissed me off.

But most of all my own shortcomings.

As I navigated through the city streets, the wind whipped against my face, offering a temporary respite from the suffocating weight of my emotions. The rhythmic hum of the engine soothed my frayed nerves, grounding me in the present moment.

The roads blurred past me, a sea of faces and buildings that I barely registered. The Ducati hugged the curves of the road as I leaned into each turn, the rush of speed clearing my mind, if only momentarily.

Arriving just in time for Sculpture 101.

'Cliche' name with a shittier than cliche teacher.

I parked the bike and hurried to the lecture hall.

Dr. Montgomery's disapproving gaze met mine as I slipped into the studio, my heartbeat quickening. "Mr. Acharya, tardiness is not tolerated in my class," his voice rang out, adding to the throbbing in my head. "Go take a seat immediately."