|ROSES AND CIGARETTES Book-I|
She was someone who likes to be in her shell and He was someone who likes to break all the shells.
"Junoon ban chuki ho tum. Ishq ki tapish se bhi tez aur pagalpan ki har hadon se paar. Is qadar beyhadh ki tumhari rooh...
I missed you my lovelies so much (ik it's just 10 days still)
If you feel I'm getting off track with the emotions then spare me plz
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It's just the perspective which makes difference between the ugly and the beautiful, the absurd and the meaningful, the upsetting and the soothing. How someone fears the quilt of darkness that will readily astray their souls whereas someone seeks peace with the same darkness, ready to drape their senses, their soul into it.
And Aarav Oberio strongly credences on the latter. The sudden intrusion of light on his senses makes his skin crawl that he instantly slither back between the drapes of the darkness, soliciting comfort there.
His skilled callous fingers swirl the glass between their grasp, making the golden liquor into it stir. Meanwhile those dark charcoal orbs of his look past it, silently conversing with the dark sheet of night.
A mocking smirk stretches on the seam of his lips, the realisation that the night, even if it had stars to twinkle on it, was as much sunk into loneliness as he was. He has been holding onto this feeling like the pride to hold a beautiful rose in his captive. Somewhere inside, aware of the thorns pricking through the skin yet not ready, let go of it, eluding that in the way it will crush the rose and leave him annihilated too.
"Aren't you behaving like an abandoned lovesick puppy ? Stop sulking and enough of making my balcony a mourning centre." He heard her retort clearly yet remained immobile staring at the sky. "Weren't you the desperate one wanting to keep yourself breathing in her life, even if meant through every moment she spends of resentment, grief and loathing."
He did. He did want that. With so much desperation, so much fervency that the madness almost chafed the sanity of the sensible part of his mind. Then why now her confrontation, that storm in her always so calm honey eyes, the exhaustion and rigidness in her always tender demeanour is wrecking his insides, creating havoc and messing his mind ? Just why ?
Back then it didn't feel so rooted, so stormy that it could leave his senses into shambles, then why now it feels like it has clogged his windpipe, making it hard for him to breathe with passing moments.
It was all black and white and grey until he collided with the beautiful shades of hope, of liveliness and of true living through the shades of her brown that sometimes are so subtle or sometimes so vibrant. Nonetheless it was him on the path to satiate his demons and ruined the innocence of the angel.
"Aarav" grimacing at his state, Rhea called out again.
His fingers loosen up from the clenched fist as he ripped his gaze away from the dark night sky, his demeanour turned ever so normal since he skilfully incarcerated the havoc within himself. "You and that girl were so loud."
Venting out an audible mocking guffaw, she crouched herself on the plush sofa at the other end of her lavish balcony. Him masking his inner turmoil into nothingness might manipulate others but she knew to read past his facade. "Every time she goes through a bad phase, it automatically weighs in her mind that she has gone through the worst because of you. Thank me Bhai, I planted you permanently in her senses."
