ISHQ-E-MOHABBAT

20. erase Memory

Abhiman's pov :

As I entered the room, my eyes were drawn to Mayura, sitting with her notes and books scattered around her. She was engrossed in her studies, her brow furrowed in concentration. I couldn't help but stare, captivated by her dedication and passion for learning.

Without thinking, I sat down in front of her, opening my laptop to begin my own work. Mayura looked up, our eyes meeting for a brief moment, but she didn't say a word. Instead, she returned to her notes, and I began to type away on my computer.

Despite working on our own projects, it felt like we were working together. The silence between us was comfortable, and I found myself glancing at her every so often, admiring the way her hair fell in loose waves down her back.

As the minutes passed, I became aware of the gentle scratching of her pen on paper, the soft sighs she made when she was deep in thought, and the way her eyes sparkled when she understood a difficult concept. It was as if our presence together had created a symphony of sounds and movements that complemented each other perfectly.

I felt a sense of companionship wash over me, knowing that we were both striving for our own goals, yet supporting each other in our own quiet way. Mayura's presence had a calming effect on me, and I found myself focusing more intently on my work, inspired by her dedication.

As the hours slipped by, our silence became a comfortable companion, a reminder that we didn't need words to communicate. We were connected in our own way, united in our pursuit of knowledge and understanding. And in that moment, I knew that I was grateful for this life we had built together, one of trust, learning, and quiet companionship.

As we sat down to enjoy our dinner in the comfort of our room, I noticed Mayura eating silently, lost in thought. I wanted to break the silence and connect with her, so I asked, "Hey, how was your day? Any exciting moments?"

Mayura looked up, her eyes sparkling with a hint of a smile. "It was good, Abhimaan. The principal was very kind and welcoming. I made some new friends too."

I smiled, happy to hear that. "That's great! I'm glad you're settling in well. And how was the college itself? Was it what you expected?"

Mayura nodded, taking a sip of her water. "Yes, it was good. The campus is beautiful, and the facilities are great. You've done a wonderful job maintaining it ."

I felt a sense of pride and gratitude at her praise. "Thank you, Mayura. I'm glad you like it. I wanted to create a place where students could feel comfortable and focused on their studies."

Mayura smiled, her eyes shining with appreciation. "You've definitely achieved that. I feel very comfortable there."

We continued eating and chatting, exchanging stories about our days. I told her about my meetings and discussions with my advisors, and she shared more about her classes and her new friends. The conversation flowed easily, and I was grateful for the chance to connect with her, to hear about her day and share in her experiences.

As we finished our dinner, I realized that these moments, these quiet conversations over dinner, were what made our relationship special. It wasn't just about grand gestures or romantic getaways; it was about the everyday moments we shared, the laughter and the conversations that made our bond grow stronger with each passing day.

As we prepared for bed, Mayura began walking towards the couch, her soft footsteps a gentle whisper in the quiet room. I followed behind her, my eyes fixed on her graceful figure.

"Mayura, wait," I said, my voice low and gentle.

She turned around, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "What are you doing, Abhimaan? You can't sleep on the couch, it's too small for you."

I chuckled, my heart beating with affection. "I don't care about the couch, I care about being close to you."

Mayura's face softened, her voice filled with concern. "But you'll be uncomfortable, Abhimaan. You need a proper bed to sleep."

I smiled, my eyes locked on hers. "I'll be comfortable as long as I'm near you, Mayura. Besides, I like the idea of cuddling up with you on the couch."

Mayura's cheeks flushed, and she looked away, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're so stubborn, Abhimaan."

As I lay on the other couch, I couldn't shake off the feeling that I had made a mistake by not listening to Mayura's concerns. I had been so caught up in my own desire to be close to her that I had ignored her needs.

As I drifted off to sleep, I thought to myself, "I'll make it up to her. I'll erase that memory of hers, the one where I didn't listen to her. I'll create a new one, a better one, where I prioritize her comfort and well-being."

I vowed to be more considerate, more understanding, and more supportive. I wanted Mayura to feel heard, seen, and loved. And I knew that starting tomorrow, I would work towards creating a new memory, one that would replace the old one and bring us closer together.

With a determined heart, I fell asleep, ready to face the new day and make amends.