His Unloved Bride | COMPLETED ✓

✿ TO BE NICE ✿

ALAIA

It's spring again; the time of the season when the grey world hide behind the facade of colour and the sound of rustling leaves and birds chirping becomes frequent. And it reminds me of you. Your bright smile that lighted up the spring even more and your excitement when the flowers bloom in our backyard.
But this season also reminds me of death; the loss of someone who meant the colour to you.

My heart aches for you and no matter how hard I try, I'm not able to stop this unbearable pain that consumes me in your memories. Sometimes, I wonder if this is my punishment for not cherishing my every single moment with you that I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to you?

This one time when I asked you about death, you told me that you aren't scared of it and to which I laughed because I never imagined you being snatched away from me.

Honestly, I don't know myself any longer. These days, I miss you more often. Maybe because I'm scared of losing you all over again. I don't want to let go of your memories that are safe in my mind but something's odd happening to me.

I re-read his letter all over again. I folded it and put it back on the table. My heart thumping louder against my ribcage. The things he said last night started repeating in my head over and over again.

Is this really happening? Is he really developing some sort of feelings for me?

No, Alaia. Don't get your hopes high.

Ignoring the igniting jungle of butterflies in my belly, I came out of his study room. At this point, I'm not sure even about my own feelings for him. I like him but that'd be not enough to describe what I feel for him in my bones. I don't want to expect the world from him, just a tiny corner in his heart and I'd be more than happy but every time I thought of the letters he writes, I couldn't help but feel sad for him. He lost his love, how can I expect anything from him at all?

But I wish I could tell him that the world isn't grey and spring doesn't necessarily brings colour with it. Instead it's the emotions. When you're happy, every thing reminds you of spring and if you're not, even the spring turns grey. I wish I could tell him that I might not be able to paint colours in his life but he can smile with me even if the world is grey.

If he ever happens to acknowledge his feelings for me, I'd tell him about the stars and the moon. That I don't like dark but stars make it bearable. I'd tell him about the cosmos of emotions I'm built of; sadness, betrayal, hurt, pain, grief. I'd tell him everything about me.

"What's for the dinner?" I asked one of the maids.

"Rajma rice." She replied.

I nodded. "Thankyou."

After that, I decided to have a warm shower. I stepped inside the bathroom and I don't know why but I felt like pampering myself. So, I took the exotic sandalwood body wash and scrubbed it all over me. I felt nice and warm. The shampoo smelled like fresh roses. I rinsed my face with a nice facewash and came out of shower.

Once back in the room, I scanned through my wardrobe for minutes until I found a pink cotton saree. There wasn't anything fancy about it but the blouse piece had a deep neck from behind and it was strapped. I wore it and looked at myself in the mirror. I've never wore this kind of blouse before; it was little revealing. For a split second, a thought wandered in my head that what would Agastya think of this? And it gave me butterflies.