His Fragile Rose. [Completed]

Crying blood, Bleeding tears.

Who's excited to read? Here you go!

A long update as a b'day treat for my sister, harshita_bhakuni If you have not wished her yet, then kindly wish her here, if possible.

Note: the reception embarras part is now removed from previous chap cause it was creating confusions.

Important :

My friend here just said my heart out, what I've been wanting to say since forever. Only 1/4rth of the story is covered. Aksh's pov is left. His reasons are left. Mending her is left. His punishments, his torture, mysteries are left to be revealed. Many faces will be unveiled. Dear readers, it's too early to judge. Please understand this. I hope you will support me.

Silent readers do vote and you'll get an early update as a treat.

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"A rose, so soft, blooming, and beautiful.
Destroyed, into a mess of burnt petals,
Fading away like dried ashes."

_Aastha.

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Present time.

Aksh Singhania's P.O.V.

"No Mehak...no.. no!"

"Please no..no no!"

"Sir! Wake up! Sir!"

"Rose, my rose, no!"

"Aksh baba!"

"Mehakkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk."

Breathless whispers left, as I screamed her name and jolted up. Hazily, I blinked, once, and then twice, trying to recognise my surroundings. My eyes roamed around the room, taking Piyush and Vihaana kaki's frame, but ignoring their gaze my eyes zeroed on the photo frame in front of me. My eyes melted like a puddle of chocolate, as I gulped her features in.

"My rose." The self loathe was rising higher in my chest, as I registered her beautiful smile, the smile which can brighten anything, anyone, but that smile is now lost. Lost in the darkness, the darkness, crafted by me.

"Are you fine, sir?" Formality was dripping from Piyush's voice, while I mechanically nodded.

I'm not fine. Nor do I want to.

I watched as Vihaana Kaki left the room silently, not bothering to ask me about my health. There's nothing new in that. Nobody bothers about me anymore and there's absolutely nothing wrong in it. Even though, it cuts deep when my own family discards me and looks down upon me with hatred, I wouldn't complain at all. My rose, has been scarred also by someone of her very own. This pain, cutting my heart, is nothing in front of that.