The morning light filtered through my window, illuminating the remnants of a stormy night. The unsettling events of yesterday weighed heavily on my mind, a constant reminder that I could never truly escape my past. I pulled on a sweater, hoping to find some comfort in its fabric, but my thoughts were already spiraling back to the club, to Aarav and the tension that crackled between us.
Just as I settled down with a cup of tea, a knock echoed through the quiet of my flat. I opened the door cautiously, my heart racing at the thought of who might be standing on the other side. To my surprise, it was a delivery man, holding a small package.
“Sign here, please,” he said, handing it over without a hint of the storm brewing within me.
I closed the door and placed the package on the table, my fingers trembling as I sliced through the tape. Inside, nestled among the crumpled brown paper, lay a frilly frock—one that looked eerily familiar. My breath hitched as I recognized it as the dress I wore on the day everything changed. It was a shade of soft pink, a color I used to love, now marred by dark stains that looked alarmingly like blood.
Panic surged through me, and memories I’d fought so hard to bury flooded back. That day—the chaos, the fear, the helplessness—it all came rushing in, suffocating me. I staggered backward, gripping the edge of the table to steady myself.
My phone buzzed, jolting me back to reality. It was a message from Aarav: “Hey, Rainbow, thinking of you. You okay?”
His words struck a chord, bringing a strange comfort amidst the rising tide of fear. I texted back quickly, hoping to push away the memories that threatened to drown me. “Just got a package. Not feeling great.”
Aarav’s response was almost immediate. “Wanna talk about it? I’m free.”
I stared at the screen, torn. I wanted to confide in someone, but the fear of exposing my past kept me paralyzed. I hesitated, but another message arrived, this time a playful one: “If it’s about a dress, I can help you pick one. I have a great eye for fashion.”
I couldn't help but smile at his persistence. Aarav had a knack for lightening the mood, even when shadows loomed large.
“Fine,” I typed back, “but only if you promise not to make fun of my taste.”
“No promises. See you in fifteen?”
Fifteen minutes later, I heard a knock at the door, and my stomach fluttered. I opened it to find Aarav leaning against the frame, a confident smirk on his face. “Ready to get your fashion game back on track?”
I rolled my eyes, trying to mask the thrill that coursed through me. “I can’t believe you came here just to make fun of my wardrobe.”
“Actually, I’m here to flirt with you,” he replied, stepping inside. His gaze swept over the package still lying on the table, and his smirk faltered for a split second before returning. “What’s this?”
I took a deep breath, attempting to ground myself. “Just an old dress I used to wear. It came in the mail today.” I hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment. “It’s—it's not just any dress. It’s from a... significant time in my life.”
“Significant how?” Aarav pressed, his tone shifting from playful to serious.
I looked down, avoiding his gaze. “It’s complicated.”
His expression softened, and he took a step closer, his proximity igniting a fire within me that I couldn't ignore. “You can trust me, you know. I won’t judge you for your past.”
I met his eyes, searching for sincerity. “You say that now, but I’m not sure you understand what you’re getting into.”
He shrugged, his confidence unwavering. “I like a challenge. Besides, you’re not as scary as you think.”
“Is that so?” I retorted, trying to match his teasing tone. “You might want to reconsider that. My life isn’t a walk in the park.”
“Neither is mine,” he replied, the flirtation replaced by something more profound. “But I still want to be part of yours if you’ll let me.”
A charged silence enveloped us, the air thick with unspoken words. I could feel the heat radiating between us, the magnetic pull drawing me closer to him. Just then, my phone buzzed again, breaking the moment.
The reminder of my trauma surged back, uninvited. I reached for my phone and scrolled through the messages, but it was just another delivery notification, an ordinary thing against the backdrop of my chaotic feelings.
“Hey,” Aarav said softly, breaking my reverie. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just... a lot on my mind.”
He nodded, understanding deepening in his eyes. “You don’t have to talk about it now. We can just hang out. I promise to keep the flirting to a minimum—maybe.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension easing ever so slightly. “Alright, but only if you behave.”
“Deal.” He flashed that disarming smile, and I felt myself relax, if only a little.
As we settled into conversation, I realized that the ghosts of my past would always be a part of me, but perhaps, just perhaps, I could start building a future that was more than just shadows and pain. And with Aarav—at least for now—I felt a flicker of hope.
YOU ARE READING
Infatuated Hate (18+)
Storie d'amore"Cloaked in the shadows of his ruthless world, he finds her - a burst of color in his monochrome existence. She is his rainbow, the one he despises with a fervor as intense as his desire. In the delicate balance between love and loathing, their tumu...
