" 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡 "
Advait Agnihotry... He was my pride.
My heart.
The reason I breathed.
But now... now for the first time in my life-I qu...
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Diya patiently held him throughout the entire time, letting him grieve his lost dreams, which were taken away from him when he was a young boy, barely old enough to be called as a man, That boy, who was on his way to become a man, never imagined that the things he was planning to do for a long time will just slip between his fingers as if they never existed. He never expressed himself. He never shared his part of story about how badly the incident severely affected his mental peace and how much he hated himself back then.
Her heart, her poor heart, cried for him. It was facing the worst possible part of her life right now, for always watching him from afar, topping everything, being at the heights where nobody could actually climb up to, for slaying through each and every part of his life, witnessing him bare, that sensitive part of him in front of her, it felt person right in front of her isn't the man the world claims to be unfeeling and emotionless. If only he had only successfully proven that the line, not everything, is as actual as it seems, correct. Through the entire time when he was silently grieving his past and his unfulfilled desires, Diya held him close and safe. She allowed him to be comfortable in the silence that has been haunting him for years—the part of him that he loathes, the part he never allowed anyone to explore or find out.
It's always the most unexpected person we end up finding our solace in; Diya happened to be that unexpected person for him. The one he can look up to whenever he feels like his world has been scrambling down to earth, the one he can find beside him, stroking his arm whenever he feels like there is no hope left for him, that there are no longer people around for him to have the assurance of security and support. He never felt like that. He never had this urge to have someone beside him; he never had the need to hold someone's hand in order to regain his power or confidence. There is a saying that even the mightiest wall can scramble if you'd put in the amount of pressure that it cannot cope with. Him? just a human being, dying everyday after recalling how harsh life has been treating him for years. Maybe its his fate to lose everything dear to him? To let go of the things he loves and desires, to let go of the people he has grown fond of?
What will happen if he some day ends up losing her? his new source of life and light? his new-found unwavering feelings? Will he be able to let go of her like he did to his dreams?. Will he be able to forget her like he forgot his dreams over the years?.
The thought itself crucified him. It felt as if someone is slicing his heart into uncountable pieces, as if someone is ripping his soul off his body. This dreadful thought made him tighten his hold around her waist. Diya, as if feeling what he was feeling at that moment, broke the hug and lifted her head from the crook of his neck to look dead in his eyes. Their eyes met, heartbeat escalating, anticipation crawling beneath their skin, only to find them full of feelings and dead at the same time. What was he fighting for all these years on his own? That vulnerable part of him that no one ever witnessed, if it ever came into light, she doubts if everyone will recognize him the same as they used to do in the past. So, if protecting him means veiling his shortcomings, cloaking his vulnerability using her own image, then she'd do it in a heartbeat. That's not even a question anymore; it's as clear as the daylight. She fell for him for the man he was—strong, admiring, narcissistic, and charismatic. She fell for him even harder when he confessed his imperfections and failures to her.
