Tentatively, Shormishta pushed open the door of her room and stepped aside and I cautiously peered inside. There stood by the window a lady so frail and willowy that the top she wore appeared to be thrice her size. Her hair cut somewhat like an asymmetrical Bob cut were unkempt from the blows of the wind flowing through the window. In her hand she held a picture frame that had a picture of me and her, with our arms around each other smiling at the camera, it was taken 6 years ago at the Sunburn in Goa.
"Manjari" Shormishta spoke softly her voice barely carrying weight. But it seemed she could here the slight voice for she turned around. Her eyes seemed to be not able to find focus for few seconds when she found herself gazing at me.
"Swayam" she gasped. Her hold on the picture frame seemed to loosen and I suddenly found myself clutching her hand and the frame preventing it to fall to the ground.
Releasing the breathe I have holding, went to take the frame from her hand when I noticed the once silky smooth, completely white skin was now sprinkled with blueish bruises which seemed to be on their way to be black.
With wide eyes I looked up at her, when I noticed her eyes filled with unshed tears, eyes that portrayed pain. A pain that echoed deep inside of me. Realizing too late of the tight hold that I had on her arm, I let her go. A sliver of despair flicked through her face, gone too soon. Leaving me to believe that it was a figment of my imagination. A wishful thinking on my part, for her to experience the same pain as I. But why would she, when she had been the one to leave me on her own accord.
Once again I looked at her, my gaze filled with questions......questions I was too afraid to ask. It was when I noticed a gash on her forehead almost hidden behind her fringes. Lifting my hand towards it, wanting to inspect it.
Suddenly her hand stopped me, closing over me arm in a tight grip. Once gain I looked at her.
"Manjari...." I sighed
Her eyes seemed to looking at me with fear. She searched my eyes and she busied her teeth on her lower lips an action of her in distress. I could almost here the clogs turning in her head. Her chin wobbled and then she clenched her teeth. Her grip on my hand tightening, her short nails piercing the skin. On hearing the hiss I let out from the pain she shoved my hand back.
"What is he doing here?" She asked, looking over at Shormishta in voice so cold that could freeze an active volcano.
An acute sense of rejection washed over me....spreading over my heart, turning it to a stone, the one which it was before it became soft in the moment of weakness of seeing her after so many years.
"Answers." I said turning away from her and shoving my once again trembling hand into pockets of my slacks.
"I don't know what you are talking about, Sir" she all but barked at me.
"I am here for the answers that you owe me, you dimwit lassie" I replied snarly.
"How dare you!!!" she shouted..
I turned sharply towards her enraged beyond measure. My right hand went behind her neck and jerked her flush towards me.
"Do not question my ability to dare to ask you questions. I am no longer the adolescent of 16 years who is wrapped around your little finger, whom you could sway any which way you wanted. I am here for answers and you will give them to me!" I said in a voice that though was barely a whisper but was an example of my tightly reigned temper.
How dare she take that tone with me all the while looking me in the eye saying as if it all had been solely my fault!!! Surely she must feel an iota of remorse, have a sense of guilt. Have an inkling of regret in deep recesses of her mind.
It was then I notice our proximity, the red haze of anger slowly dissipating and another form of fog settling around us. Her bosom was flush against me, her hands rested on my chest providing the only gap between her chest and mine.
Our lips mere inches away, if only I bent slightly I could completely capture hers. The force of attraction sizzled between us, binding us tightly in its confines. Her eyes melted into molten lava, a blush rising from her neck where a vein pulsed to her cheeks which took on a colour of bright pink. Completely betraying her thoughts to me.
Titling my head I leaned in and watched as her eyelids fluttered and then closed, seemingly accepting my descent toward her lips.
YOU ARE READING
Starry Nights
General FictionSwayam's heart has been scarred. Badly. His days are spent moving forward and nights remembering about the past. But what will happen when his past is no longer contained to nights but also consumes his every waking moment when SHE comes back. Wil...
