"Baby".
A jolt stiffens Abhira's spine, a drop of sweat lingers on her throat as she feels more than hears the man stand a breath away from her.
His hands rise to cup her shoulders, massaging her skin, the pads of his thumbs wipe ink across her shoulder blades as if he writes upon her his masterpiece.
"Yuvraj" she whispers, his name almost stifling in her throat.
"Say it" he urges, his stubble now scratching against her neck as he nuzzles into her hair.
"I can't" she beseeches.
"Say it" he nudges her now, her waist hitting the bucket of ice cold water.
"I" she halts, tears lining her lids.
"I" he repeats, humming into her hair as his lips trace a line up her jaw.
"Love" she sobs now, her body collapsing into his as he coils his arms around her, snake-like, he holds her still.
"Who?"
Swallowing harshly, she shakes her head from side to side.
"Who?" Yuvraj's tone is heavier now, each decibel reverberating heavily in her ear. His hand has fisted her hair, wound it around his knuckles as if it is she who holds him captive, not the other way around.
"I can't".
With her refusal, he dunks her head forward, downs it into the icy bucket and watches as her hands flail and her feet kick his shins.
Dragging her head back up, she bounds into him, spluttering, coughing, choking.
"Say it" he snarls before shoving her back into the water, watching as time lapses as she fights against the current and his hold.
Abhira wheezes as she falls into him, her legs giving in and her knees bashing ceremoniously together. Clawing at his wrists till she draws blood, she pushes back against him.
Upon his hand starting to edge her closer to the bucket again, she stiffens her entire form.
"Please".
"Baby" he soothes, almost broken heartedly as if he has to do this, as if he has no choice.
Then she is in the water again, amongst the ice she wishes she could embody. Her breath escapes her, as does her morale as she sinks to her knees upon release.
"Say it".
"I love you" she whispers, her heart wrenches as he cups her face, drawing her soaking wet lengths of raven from her face and kisses the space between her brows softly.
"Poor baby" he coos, clicking his tongue in dismay. "What have you done to yourself, hm? Always such a fighter and for what?" The 'you never win anyway' is unsaid but not unheard.
Hating herself more than ever, she bunches, closing her eyes and imagining that the hand that strokes her head is of a hand she's never felt, the hand in which she longs to hold; her Khadusmaan.
"Good girl" he groans into her, his chin forceful on her scalp as he holds her tighter.
Then he is gone, the only mark of him being there in the first place is the cold that drenches her upper body in a pneumonia like plague.
Shivering, Abhira stumbles, her body one shake to another as she falls arms first into the empty corner.
Her nails scratch along the floorboards absentmindedly, her eyes glistening with tears as she eyes the window, her only sight the shadows of light that fail to warm her body.
Breaths chase up her lungs, cling to her throat and drop from her chapped lips, a vapour that seems only to suffocate her more as they escape from her.
Yuvraj has stolen much from her; dignity, respect, her very own breath, and yet he longs to steal more, he wants to steal what is left of her, the essence she leaves behind.
If she loses it all, she will fail to exist and in that, so will what's left of her mother. She cannot lose the only part of her mother that lives, she cannot lose her again.
An icy grip seems to fester around her lungs, it makes her breaths more palpable, more intense as she tries to breathe freely. Her chest feels stamped with her abuser's name and the print feels everything like a foot digging into her chest.
"I can't" she claws at her chest, scratching down her throat and smacking at her ribs. "Can't" her panicked state only eggs her on more, her feet shoving into the floor to get some semblance of grip.
Ripping the buttons on her top open, she closes her hand around her throat, stroking up and down to warm what feels so dry. "Please" her brows droop, knitting inwards to depict her turmoil. "I ca- ca-" her mind is spinning, the room with it and she feels so uneasy.
BUZZ BUZZ
Dabangg: If I could strangle my colleagues without facing a sentence, I would.
Holding the phone close to her chest, she pushes the earphone deep into her ear to block out every sound around her but his words.
Abhira longs to ask if he'd strangle her too, if he'd be like every assailant she knew.
777: Is the risk of a sentence really what's stopping you?
Dabangg: No.
Then,
Dabangg: I can only hand out what is deserved.
Her breath hitches.
777: How do you know if they do?
Dabangg: They ask for it.
777: Kinky.
A smirk appears as she catches her breath. Allowing it to dissipate around her, she settles further into the nook of the room, her head leant sideways on the wall.
Dabangg: I mean by their actions.
Abhira releases a breath from the walls of her chest. She can practically hear his sigh of irritation.
777: How does an action equal that?
Dabangg: Violence begets violence. Simple.
777: Too simple. You live in a very black and white world, what of the grey?
Dabangg: What of it?
777: Don't you account for it? What of the mothers that kill their baby's abuser? The wife who hits her abusive husband? Is that not grey.
Dabangg: Grey doesn't exist where I work. It can't.
777: Your ignorance of a shade does not make it nonexistent. You are choosing what to see.
She felt it then, his anger through her phone, it vibrated in her skull like a lash of whips on her brain.
Dabangg: I never said I don't see it. I see it. I live it. I am it. Don't profess to know me, Abhira, you wouldn't like what you see.
777: Then it's good I can't, that I never will.
Armaan almost feels guilt for his words, but then he remembers who he is, who he will always be and knows he's doing her a favour. It's better she knows now and doesn't get caught up in hopes and dreams his realty will only dash.
"A kindness" he calls it, though his fingers itch to send her another message to explain, but that would be cruel, and that's something he wouldn't be, not to her.
Thank you so much for votes/comments. I really hope you're enjoying this story so far!
YOU ARE READING
VII
Fanfiction*VII* is a gripping and emotionally charged story about survival, betrayal, and the blurred lines between justice and exploitation. At its heart is Abhira, a woman whose life has been consumed by violence since the murder of her mother when she was...
