ArShi FF: Fragmented Colors

Chapter 9: Serenity

A hand ascends, heavy and unsteady, gripping the rust walls in a movement laden with fatigue. His lips purse as his head hangs low, eyes shutting in an unavailing effort to somehow forget, to accept, to stand strong. At a time like this, the solitude in the surroundings would become an invitation for a whirlwind of a drive through the vacuum of a highway, aimless and devoid of a destination. He would drive for hours as memories flashed before his path, memories that broke a smile through his tears with its warmth, memories that mangled him with its agony.

And yet, tonight is different.

He is now staring scrutinizingly at a closed door, as if it can provide him with answers he had long asked. He imagines himself turning and walking far away, but his body acts on the opposite, standing still where he is. He wonders what had led him here, soon realizing his conscience most likely already knows. Before he can change his mind his right hand raises and knocks on the wood, once, then twice.

The door swings open in one swift motion moments later, and for a reason unknown, his eyes cannot reach up to meet the muddled gaze of the one person that has come to mean so much to him in the past few months.

So much, it frightens him.

"Arnav...?" His name is a question leaving her lips, an admission of concern at the tears that spill relentlessly from his closed eyes.

The pumping of his heart seems to stop for a second, before he speaks aloud the words he has never spoken to anyone, nor to himself.

"My dad died four years ago today and it's all my fault,"

Khushi's features drain of color at the statement, a constriction forming at the back of her throat. He looks up at her to reveal red and tears escape her eyes, a result of disparate emotions coursing through. Not seeing him, not knowing where he is, not being able to ask if he is fine, and now – staring at his defeated form before her, his aching gaze, his broken words – all thought flies out of her mind. Her hand reaches up to rest right where his beating heart lay, her arms going around to hold him close. She feels him give in, his head bowing down, tears wetting the cotton of her shirt.

They come apart after moments of silent grief. Khushi chooses not to say anything, wanting him to speak only when he wishes to, only when he feels comforted enough to. They sit on her bed, his gaze rooted on the ground while her eyes never leave him.

"Every year on this day my mom leaves to stay at my uncle and aunt's house, and they perform a puja in his remembrance. Each year she asks me to go with her, but I can never bring myself to say yes. I stay at home alone for the two days,"

Khushi wipes away a tear as she listens to him speak, a distant look on his face, as if recollecting the past.

"My dad had come home from work that day, and I needed supplies for college. He said he can go and get it for me but I denied, knowing he was tired. But he insisted... and I didn't stop him. He was returning home that night with my supplies when another car broke the signal and collided with his car. My father died on the spot,"

She takes in a sharp breath at that, unable to fathom the pain that strikes when a loved one is taken away in the blink of an eye. Her mouth opens and closes multiple times, trying to find the adequate words.

"It's not your fault Arnav. You... you didn't know," Her voice shakes.

"But I didn't stop him Khushi. I didn't stop him. If I did, maybe he would still be here. Maybe- maybe Ma would be happy," His eyes shut close as he says this, looking away.

Tears flow unabashedly as she takes his hand in hers.

"Your Ma is happy because you have kept her happy, Arnav. You're a wonderful son. Your Dad is looking down at you every step of the way and he is proud of you, Arnav. He is proud of you,"

He gazes at her in wonderment, feeling substantially better after conveying the thoughts that were trapped in the confines of his mind before this moment. A part of him wants to thank her and yet he cannot, because the other adamant part of him does not deem himself worthy of being the cause of his parent's pride. He swallows, composing himself before speaking again in a much smoother tone.

"It's very late. You probably have classes tomorrow-"

"I don't have any classes tomorrow," She cut him, hoping it is enough to keep him from leaving.

"Stay," The word leaves from her lips in a plea. He looks at her moist eyes of hazel when a thought runs through his head, loud and clear.

I love you.

The words, despite ringing in the shadows of his own mind, takes him aback. He refrains from blurting them aloud, irresolute of the consequences. But then his mind wanders and he realizes how much he needs to say those words to her, in spite of what may happen, in spite of how she may respond.

Because the truth is simple – he loves her. In way that makes him mad at the thought of losing her. In a way that he sees the purity of her heart and the beauty of her soul. In way he had never imagined he would, he loves her.

He stays silent for now, moving close to her warmth. She gently lies him down on her bed, closing the lights before going over to join him. He gazes at her, umber coated in a sheen of tears. She runs a hand through the waves of his hair and his eyes close at her velvet touch, releasing a deep breath as sleep finally pervades him.

For the first time since she had met him, Khushi really looks at him. She takes the opportunity to study the face of the man who has changed the course of her life with his ways, with his smile, with his pain. The week old stubble is a stark contrast to the innocence of his pouted lips, his chest rising and falling to a pattern she could love getting used to. Linking her arm in his she scoots closer to him, a strange sensation flooding her heart and mind.

They lay there, falling into the rhythm of sleep as the moon shone in its splendor.

A/N: An important chapter, and also one I enjoyed writing. Would love to hear your thoughts.

-Rain