Whiskey Of Fiction

"I d-don't.. I do not love you." Despite my attempt at giving a firm export to my words, they unwillingly wavered.

His stygian eyes stared more intensely into my dusky ones.

"Whom are you playing with little dreamer?" He stepped closer. His carveneous orbs never leaving my anxious ones.

"A criminal?" An abominable glint hovered his eyes like a second skin.

"Yours lovely criminal"
His words echoed within the scarily tranquil room, lips curved in a cryptic smile.

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Bhuvi Mishra in her early 20s have seen the mesmerising side of the coin as much as the miserable one. Some traumas are unwantedly carved in her heart, a reminder of wisely choosing her trust upon people. Having a sensitive heart, and a kind nature didn't helped. Between the endless chaos when the assignments didn't stopped, her heartbeat did when they caught a glimpse of those depraved eyes.

Rudraksh Singhania in his early 30s lives in an embodiment of contorted tenebrosity. He craves for her in such elliptical ways that no coherent mind would like to think of.

But Rudraksh's often unforseen disappearance leaves Bhuvi at the conception that.. He is Fictional.