Yashasvi stood by the window, her heart pounding. The weight of the day bore down on her, but it was the night she feared. The red chunri saree she wore felt suffocating, trapping her not just in fabric, but in a life she wasn't ready for.
The door...
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I hope you love it as much as my first story.
Sneak Peak
ANANYA
I used to believe that love was like a canvas painted with the brightest colours, where every stroke told a story of joy, passion, and hope. But now, all those colours have faded, and I'm left staring at a blank space, unsure if I'll ever find the courage to pick up the brush again. Will my heart ever know what it means to feel alive?
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
ANANT
Life is like a recipe, every moment adding a new flavour—sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter. I've tasted the bitterness of loss, and I'm not sure if there's enough sugar left to bring back the sweetness. But then, I look at her, and I wonder, can we create something new? Something neither of us has tasted before?
Feel free to give it a read and share your thoughts—I'd love to hear your feedback! 😊
