Resurgence

Chapter 3

Then
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Shravan wakes up suddenly, every thought and noise in high definition. Here comes the drops hard and rapid against the roof, falling together as pioneers. He loves the rains, always have. But today, the pitter patter against his window is anything but comforting.

When blindsided by disappointment and anger or joy and euphoria — every emotion that made him feel that restless, reckless itch under his skin or the song that echoed loudly with every beat of his heart threatening to erupt from his ribcage — Shravan let himself soak in that emotion, he let himself drown in it till he is drenched from head to toe.

When he was sad, really sad, he would draw his blinds and drown his room into the darkness - something he hated and then proceeded to put on some classic songs, the ones that coaxed tears behind your eyelids and consume a ridiculous amount of chocolates while staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks and the freckles that adorned his roof.

And when he was truly happy, he laughed. People think of laughing as a noise that comes from the throat, but when Shravan laughed it was nothing like that. The laugh sparkled in his eyes, the laugh was in the lines along his mouth, in the way his face changed into that vision of relaxed joy and unrestrained mirth. The humor bubbled from deep within and it never failed to transport everyone around him far, far away from the worries and tensions of life.

On the other hand, his anger was a boiling, volcano in motion. So lost in the moment and the torment his brain was in. It would start with a tension in his muscles and followed swiftly by an inability to think clearly. Gone was his ability for nuance and patient understanding, wrecked by burning rage and scalding taunts. However, his fists would stay firmly by his sides, they weren't needed, his words did more damage that they ever could.

When Shravan Malhotra went through something, he felt it in every inch of himself. He didn't know how to lock up his heart in a box and stow it under the bed.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Malhotra!"

"Shravan!"

"SHRAVAN MALHOTRA!!!"

His attention is piqued by a figure crouching outside of his window and then he is quick on his two feet as he jumps from his bed and opens the window, inviting droplets against the wall and a surge of cold that hits him in the face like a slap and has him recoiling away.

Soon enough, the intruder stumbles inside, her foot hitting against the ledge of the window. She rocks back on her feet and winces, nearly losing her balance until Shravan steadies her hastily, hands around her elbows, holding her in place.

"Careful, Sumo!" Shravan scolds, letting go of her when she makes to get up. "You're drenched!"

"Thank you, Captain obvious!" She laughs before throwing her hair in his face, wet strands slapping him in the face. That seems to wake him up from his trance.

"What are you doing here?!" are the first words out from his mouth after a short moment of silence.

"Excuse me?" There is a dangerous glint in her eyes and a predatory step in her stance. "I have walked under the rain to get here, so you better choose your next words wisely, Malhotra."

Shravan clears his throat, feeling the uncomfortable niggling of guilt. "You didn't have to take all that trouble, you could have just called me."

"And you could have bothered to answer my calls!" She exclaims and he bites his lip in shame.