[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...
Before you read this chapter, i would like to advice you to read the chapter 40. And, can you believe just 10 chapters are left
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Sometimes, it feels unfair—on the part of fate.
The way he makes me feel leaves me grappling every time the storm of emotion hits me. Every inch of my emotions—whether happiness, anger, lust, desire, or urgency to let him conquer me as he desires and soak me in what the great William Shakespeare called love—seems to be in turmoil.
And that's unfair because, no matter where I go or which corner of this world I inhabit, there is no doubt that only he possesses the capability of bringing those tumbling emotions out of me.
I see magic in the way he looks at me, as though I am just his to look at—corrupt, untouchable, beautiful. There is a destructible beauty in the gaze he beholds me with.
How easily he makes me believe that we are the same soul, and how unfair it is that people with the same soul can't know what the other part feels.
The more he is away, the more I desire him. And he must know this. If he can wage a war for me, he must be ready to wear me as his shield.
My leg bounces, my feet rhythmically tapping on the cold floor, eyes fixated on the door with my senses alert to hear any noise—a noise to announce his coming.
But that is not needed.
My heart picks up its beat, drumming like a stick landing on the drum. A music to my ears, blocking away those same alert senses, fusing a moment that I want to last forever.
I stand up from my seated position, the soft screech of the wood against the floor echoing as I push the chair, moving towards the main door. My gait is fast with my breath caught in my throat, eyes already brimming with tears, as I twist the knob of the door.
And, like a child seeing the first sun of his life, my insides melting like a velvety sheet when my eyes collide with his. Black like the meandering black hole of the universe, sucking everything out of me and leaving me replacing the void with his own enigma.
A tear slips from my eyes. Two days did this to me. How do I explain myself to all those days coming where my eyes would be aching for his one glimpse? There is no turning back and no room for sacrifice. I want to be selfish.
I move towards him, his eyes fixed on me, watching my every move. Posture rigid, with those shrewd eyes staring at me unblinkingly, and I can see the specks of relief mixing with the exhaustion, dancing in them. Sadness tugs at my heart, the way he stood like a bucket of ice had been emptied on him.
A breeze swept past us. Not much of his face was visible. The night moonless, bringing darkness to rule every corner, mingling shadows—picturing akin to his inside. My bare feet contrast with his shoes, and yet still he makes no move. I don't know what I expected. Maybe a hug, him gathering me in his arms, letting every pore of my skin bask in the warmth of his body. But his arms don't envelop me, not even when I wrap my arms around him. Just his scent intoxicating my sense.
