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Despite the scars of the past, their connection remains unbroken, drawing them back to each other as they learn that true love can weather any storm.
ᡣ𐭩 𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐈 𝐱 𝐀𝐀𝐃𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈 𝐊𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 ᡣ𐭩 .
I know the target isn't completed yet, and i was not in a very much mood to post this chapter. But I can't see my real readers suffering because of some silent readers. I am posting this chapter because of my genuine and real, they did a lot of comments and asked everyone to vote and comments but still some people remain same. And I can't see the genuine readers getting bothered this much, even after engaging with my chapters.
Thank you so much love, your efforts mean a lot to me. 💕🫂
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And then, her gaze met mine.
A shiver rippled through her body as my fingers brushed against her skin. Her eyes, wide with shock, locked onto mine, and for a moment, the world around us ceased to exist. She hadn’t expected me to be here, not now.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, silently, as if the weight of her sorrow was too heavy for words. But despite the flood of emotions, she stood frozen—her body cold under my touch, her small hand still held firmly in mine.
I could feel the pulse of pain between us. Her tears told a story of betrayal, of a hurt so deep it scarred her soul. But my tears? They came from the pit of my guilt. It was suffocating, crushing every ounce of pride, every last word I might’ve said to explain myself.
Pain was flowing from both of our eyes in the form of tears, but the difference was, she was feeling the pain of hurt and i was going through the pain of guilt.
We stood there, lost in each other’s presence. The noise of the world faded into the background, leaving us in this moment of raw, painful silence. Neither of us knew how to speak, how to blink, how to breathe. The air between us grew heavier with each passing second, thick with unspoken words and wounds too fresh to heal.
Her hand in mine—it was like a lifeline, something I couldn’t let go of, fearing that if I did, she would vanish forever. I held on, not just to her hand but to the hope that I hadn’t lost her completely. My other hand trembled with uncertainty, hesitant to touch her, scared that she would recoil from me. Still, I reached out, my fingers grazing her tear-streaked cheek.
I wiped her tears gently, our eyes locked in a stare that cut deeper than any words could. The warmth of my hand on her skin seemed to pull more tears from her, and for a brief moment, she closed her eyes, surrendering to the weight of it all. When her eyes fluttered open again, though, they were empty. The emotions that once danced within them—anger, love, hurt—they were gone. All that was left was a void, a hollow space where something used to be.
It was as if I was staring into a mirror, but the reflection held no life, no light. Just emptiness.
Can someone die just by looking into another’s eyes? Because that’s how I felt—like I was dying, piece by piece, as her gaze pierced my soul. I’d caused this. It was all my fault, and no amount of guilt could wash away the devastation in those once-beautiful eyes.
