Living In Oblivion

50

Placing her palm over her left eye, Avanti attempted to gaze at the stars with her right eye. After a moment, she removed her hand and covered her right eye instead. Frowning, she once again placed her palm over her left eye and muttered, "My right eye is weaker than my left."

Divit shifted on the bonnet, tossing the last morsel of omelette to the dog. Opening a bottle of water, he washed his hands and took a long sip. Holding the bottle, he turned to look at Avanti, who sat gazing at the sky, her back leaning against the car window.

"How much?" he asked, matching her gaze while mimicking her hand movements.

"It's like more blurred with my right eye," she replied, watching him as he closed one eye and stared at the stars.

"I can't tell," he admitted, confused.

Rolling her eyes, Avanti grabbed the bottle from his hand and took a large sip. As her phone vibrated in her pocket, she pulled it out to check the caller ID.

Riddhi.

It was her sister, Riddhi, calling again. Riddhi had been calling Avanti multiple times since that day, and most of the time, Avanti didn't respond. It wasn't because of anger, though. Avanti knew it wouldn't do any good. Eventually, they would have to be there for each other, regardless of their current differences. She just wanted Riddhi to realize how her ambition had turned into selfishness and would not lead her anywhere.

Putting the phone on silent and sliding it back into her pocket, Avanti turned to Divit. "How is it between you and your brother?"

"Me and Milind?" Divit repeated.

"Yes, if that's your brother."

Divit shook his head, finding her attempt at sarcasm rather lame. He rubbed his temples, trying to gather his thoughts. How could he describe the relationship between him and his brother? It was... normal, like any two brothers should be. They were close, as siblings should be, but there were weeks when they wouldn't talk to each other. However, whenever they did, it was never awkward.

Milind was quite the opposite of Divit—sharp, outspoken, carefree, and stubborn. He was always the one who broke more rules and acted reckless and brazen. But Divit knew that his brother wasn't really like that. That was the reason why he never let Milind down. Although he scolded him many times, he never went after Milind like their parents did whenever he did something outrageously reckless, like standing up against their senseless relatives or getting stoned during a college viva.

"My brother and I are..." Divit struggled to find the words. "We are fine."

Avanti couldn't help but chuckle in disbelief. What a man. He couldn't even express a few words about such an important relationship in his life. But then again, she knew that was just him—typical Divit. He never knew how to merge emotions with words. It was strange how he claimed to treat his heart with a pen, how ink always worked its magic better for him than words ever could, and the smell of paper brought him more satisfaction than a casual chat over a cup of coffee.

Sighing, her eyes darted to her wrist to check the time. They still had an hour before the day ended. Her heart fluttered with anticipation as she tried to swallow the nervousness that tightened her throat. The feeling was magical. Her heart longed to see him beam at her small token of effort. Leaving behind the pale, jumbled pages, she wanted him to pluck out the dead petals from between the pages of his diary. She wanted him to spill the ink and be the spill.

"We should go. It's getting late," she mumbled, following his gaze to the sky.

With his sleeves folded to his elbows, Divit leaned against the car, looking like a dream to her—a tempting one, and certainly one that was hard to resist. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she looked away, trying to blink away the glint of lust that clouded her senses.