Forever And Always | ✓

03.

HER HEART WAS RACING.

Pounding against her chest. Pushing against her lungs. Letting her mind in an over-drive.

It was black, pitch black, engulfing her and crawling closer and closer. She couldn't help but feel the water grazing her skin, leaving all the more -- flustered and alone. The cold seeped through her skin and bones and muscles aching and trembling as everything around her spinned. There were heavy footsteps slapping against the ceramic floor of the bathroom, and as it got closer her chest contracts tighter, painfully tighter until all she can manage are short, staggered breaths that get more painful with every inhale.

He's more myself than I am

She could never escape him. Especially when he's the reason why--

Her heart raced again when she felt his clammy hands wrapping around her bare waist. She couldn't stop shaking when his breath tickled against her neck. He was so close, so goddamn close, it felt as if he was a part of her soul.

Whatever our souls are made of,

"I heard you crying, Maya. Are you okay?" Virat asked her, turning her around to face him. Maya breathed in and swallowed. Her throat felt dry, like she had been screaming herself raw. In that moment, she didn't care that she was naked, or that his hands covered the bruises on her body.

"Now that you're here, I'm okay." She gave him a smile. Who was she lying to? Even though she was with him under the shower which felt like a waterfall, she couldn't help but feel the inevitable drought.

his and mine are the same.

Nevertheless, her hands entangled around his neck, while Virat's hands tugged on the buttons of his grubby shirt as he unbuttoned them. Maya's cheeks warmed until the wave of realization hit her.

His body was covered with the exact same bruises as hers.

If all else perished, and he remained;

Her hands traced the intricate bruises along his chest. "Who did this, Virat?" Her hands wrap around his then, and she felt how his insides trembled, her fingers clawing at the sadness which thrummed through his veins. It was then when she could see that he was going exactly through what she was going through. She couldn't see him in pain, because it made her ache, made her physically ache from the point of her nose to the tip of her toes. But she couldn't close her eyes either.

Because if the outside was broken, then the inside was dead.

I should still continue to be.

"Doesn't matter," Virat answered, drawing in a sharp breath just to make himself feel better. It didn't, of course not. "What matters is that I have you." And suddenly, her lips are on his, perfectly molding with each other.

Kissing each other was easier than breathing, it was more involuntary, more needful than breathing. Their lives were at a brink where each breath was just to check if they had the courage to take another, whether they could stop breathing and let themselves self-destruct. On the contrary, kissing involved no breathing and yet made them feel incredibly better. It was like an aching contentedness, a little paradox of happily sad, like they're both nowhere and somewhere all at once, losing and gaining, inhaling and exhaling, and they're not sure where the story started and where it was going to end.

If all else remained, and he were annihilated,

They were covered in clothes, when they were looking out of the window together. Hands entangled with each other as they saw that it wasn't quite bright out just yet. The sunshine timidly peeked through the clouds, and oceans of orange, blue and pink tinted the sky. They had never been in so much love before, and this time it wasn't catastrophic. Under the rays of light, this love was vulnerable and hesitant young and innocent, hopeful and brave -- everything one could wish for. Their hearts still love, while their minds drew out the cassette of the what ifs again and again. What if he disappears? What if she leaves me?

the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.