[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...
TDC suru hone kei khusi mei ~900 votes for the next update~
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The more you run, the more he will love to chase you. My own voice barks at me, imagining his deep breath licking my neck, drumming my heartbeat.
Fear zips through my senses. Panic raises a bile in the pit of my stomach, churning it periodically. I know it is closer. It is a matter of fact before it is out of the coffin. Realizations are near, knocking at me. The crown of secrets is heavy on my head, and I know I must come forward, claim them as mine. But how do I claim them when I certainly fear it?
For the first time, I can understand why Reyansh hides himself from me.
Fear. An inevitable gruesome.
Fear of losing whatever we have built in the past days.
Dread of him giving up on me or on us totally.
I gulp air like my throat is in the desert, my heart drenched in uneasiness. I clench shut my eyes, trying to draw deep breaths. Ribbons wrap around my lungs, pushing me into a hollow pit, making breathing a tedious task.
I wrap my arms around my hiked legs to stop the shaking of my hands. I throw a discreet glance at the balcony where Reyansh's back is facing me as he is engrossed in a phone call, taking a break for a smoke. I lean my back against the footboard slat, the wood digging into my back.
Gladly, I didn't have to answer as before I could, his phone rang.
Taking the album, I try to distract my mind somewhere. Empty mind, home to Shaitan. The albums have tiny patches of dust. I wipe them with the back of my hand.
I prepared every album for him. Every moment of Veer's life was captured in a soundless moment. Hoping he at least knows how it feels. I know this will never compensate for the time he has lost with Veer. Maybe doing this will lessen the heavy grief and dense guilt caged inside me. All these years, I have been guilt-ridden. I hope it lessens to some extent this time.
The balcony door slides closed. I look up. He watches me. I watch him back, a smile taking over my lips. He takes back the previous seat, shifting closer to me, making me smell the intoxicating spicy scent of his, mixed with the smell of cigarettes.
"You should really stop smoking. It's bad for your health."
He drapes his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer. "They seem to make me think clearer."
"Dealing with emotions is still not your cup of tea, right?" I tease him.
He scowls in acceptance. "I don't feel at all, or when I do, everything showers down and I don't know how to handle it."
"Since when did smoking become a good choice, then?"
