✧ He was my desire; I was his obsession. ✧
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
"I will not chase you, and I am certain that once you leave, you will vanish from the face of the earth. However, know this, Taara: the instant I noticed a movement on...
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I stood in my new pottery studio, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes and scattered tools. The sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating the space with a warm, golden glow.
I could already envision how beautiful the finished studio would be—a haven where I could lose myself in the art of creation. I looked around the shop, my eyes roaming in every corner as I applied my lip balm. Smacking my lips together at the softness.
Barkha and Aarav were there, helping me set up and make the necessary modifications.
"Barkha, do you think these lights will work?" I asked, holding up a set of LED strips. "I want something that will accentuate the beauty of the pieces."
Barkha tilted her head, examining the lights. "They could work, but I think spotlights might be better for highlighting individual pieces."
Aarav nodded in agreement, his kind eyes sparkling. "Spotlights would definitely draw attention to the details. Plus, they can be adjusted easily."
I smiled, grateful for their input. "Alright, spotlights it is, then. Thanks, you two."
Barkha smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "This place is going to be amazing, Taara. I'm so glad you decided to do this."
"Me too," I admitted, feeling a sense of pride and excitement. "It's been a long time coming."
We continued discussing the setup, and the conversation was light and easy. I actually made friends with Aarav; his kind nature had been a great support, and I was grateful for his presence. Despite everything that had happened, he had become a steady friend, someone I could rely on.
As we were talking, my phone buzzed on the table. I glanced at the screen, my heart skipping a beat, when I saw Athwa's number. I don't want to answer his call, and I won't! I ignored it and it kept ringing.
The fifth time it rang, I felt frustration and anxiety creeping in, as I answered it.
"Hello?" I said, my voice tinged with anxiety.
"Taara?" a deep, unfamiliar voice responded. It was not Athwa.
"Yes, who is this?" I asked, a sense of dread creeping into my chest.
"This is Vikram, a colleague of Athwa's," the man replied. "I need you to come to the hospital immediately."
My heart stopped. "What happened?"
"I can't give details over the phone, but you need to come right away," Vikram said, his tone urgent but calm.
"No! I won't come. Tell that psycho, I am not falling for his stupid trap!" I snapped, my nerves picking up.
The man on the other side took a sharp breath before speaking. "It's not a trap, Taara. This is serious; he is in the surgery right now."
"I-I'll be there," I stammered, hanging up and turning to Barkha and Aarav, my hands shaking.
