In His Custody ✎ | (MaNan)

✰ 64 - mending fragile hearts

I forewent (is that a word, IDK? :D ) watching the KYY telecast just so I could edit this chapter for you all to read on time! :")

Please shower some love if you can!

Word count: 4122

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Manik

In the breaking hours of dawn, I sat on the floor by her head and tenderly brushed her supple cheeks. I was not sure what the morning had in store for me, but in those last few moments by her side before I surrendered to sleep, I concluded that I was in the wrong.

I had once made a naive wish, for her happiness even if it meant foregoing mine forever. Back then, I never imagined how much damage I could cause to her, nor could I fathom the depth of her feelings for me to chalk it up to such a beautiful feeling called love. I was immature, and a warped kid quite literally.

Her stunning features stirred in the pale morning light. Hell, I myself never thought I could feel so deeply for someone. I realised it was wrong of me to decide to hold myself back, both for her and for us. Perhaps that was why she refused to give me closure.

If she didn't want a relationship with me, and she couldn't love me – but still wanted me in her life, as her mannerisms had hinted to all night – then I would have to figure out what she truly wanted from us going forward... and what she envisioned for whatever this was between us.

How could I win her forgiveness?

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Mukti

My usual alarm for work blared out at six in the morning, knocking me out of my sleep. I didn't have a morning shift to go to, thankfully. Squirming and flapping a hand mindlessly around and under my pillow, I attempted to snooze the damn device. Before I made contact with it, the volume died out. Relieved, I dug my face back into the fluff and shuffled. My sleep had been quite fractured that night. 

I heard a knock beside my head, as the device was placed on the bedside table to my right... and I craned my head to note a man's hand grazing the table.

It must have been Abhi. I squinted, dazedly opening one eye and found my brother standing, as alert as the night before. As he exited the room, sleep escaped me. I fearfully looked across, where Nandini was on her bed, tucked under her favourite blanket, sleeping soundly with a bucket on the floor under her pillow.

So Manik was still there, and he had stayed the night. I was not dreaming any of that.

My blanket flew off me and I hurried out behind him, to do damage control for last night. It didn't matter that I didn't know how Nandini got drunk, how Manik ended up in Bangalore, or how the two met.

"You... you have to go," I desperately murmured to his back in the living area, and met him as he turned, conflicted by the muffled order.

He was still in his all black outfit, his sleeves rolled up and his hair dishevelled from using our bedroom wall as back-support.

I could not deny that a part of me dearly loved the sight of my brother first thing in the morning. There was a level of apnapan... that no amount of English words could amount to expressing. It was what Nandini had with Abhimanyu all these years, and as much as I did not want to compare our scenarios... or take away from her happiness when it came to that comfort while the rest of her life was crumbling down, I never realised how much I longed for this as well.