'Footprints': ShivGauri (IP) FF Part 7,Pg.9 06/16 - Page 3

Originally posted by: iqbals4ever

awesome story cont soon plz!!!!!👏

Thank you! I'm on it😊

Cheers,
dc

Originally posted by: amneet89

reserved!

Amnu

Girl, how many reservations do you need?😆 Kam chor...

Cheers,
dc

Originally posted by: luv_pavi

thnk god updateddd well nice updatee eageryyy waitin 4r ur nxt update....

saba

Hi Saba, don't worry I won't desert ya😉 I'm on my next one... Thanks for taking interest!

Cheers,
dc

Originally posted by: iqbals4ever

awesome part cont soon plz!!!!!!!!👏

Thank you😊 Working on it...

Cheers,
dc

Originally posted by: starfan.shrk

OMG! tht ws so good!!!! plz do con ASAP!!⭐️👏👏

Thanks Starfan!... Ji hazur😆

Cheers,
dc

really rea;lly gud

wonderfull ff yaar.keep up the gud work my friend👏

Hey DC...wonderful FF.. jus went thru both the parts... itz amazing.... plzz continue soon n plzz do PM me when u update............😊

Chapter 3: A Shower of Reminiscence

The ancient creaking of the chair was the only sound echoing dully off the silent walls. Mumbai City lay at the mercy of the wild temper of a storm having steadily amassed… resembling the tornado gaining momentum in the silence inside.

Back… and forth… back… and forth. The chair protested in unheard groans, but the owner refused to hear them. His mind revisited the events of the day… He didn't know what to make of them, but then his fate was never trustworthy. The ceiling seemed to sway with his vision as he rocked the crude chaise, an emblem of his grandfather's pride. The rocking abruptly stopped standing immobile for a second, before he raised and walked towards the closed door.

The cool gush of water felt refreshing upon his burning skin… Dabbing the towel over his face, he held it momentarily over his eyes, pressing the soft fabric against them. Her calm features etched clearly against his blank mind… the shower of minuscule droplets clinging to her skin, determined to hold on to its caress-able texture. The feeble veil of lavender did the same at her head, as she clung to it, holding herself against time… It was a sight he had seen before… but the context had been different. Suddenly feeling nauseous, he pulled the towel away, barely catching a glimpse of the twinkle in gaze as he left the front of the mirror. Throwing the towel to a side, he proceeded to take unbutton his dark shirt… He stood now in front of the shower door, the shirt hanging loosely to his side… parts of skin peeking through. Pulling off his socks, his belt… the image continually retained itself in his mind, refusing to budge now. The drops of moisture on her skin… the lavender material clinging to her… Suddenly, he opened the sliding door and stepped in still clothed… Pulling the tap, he allowed the water drown his thoughts… A buried memory now came arising through the dust… their first meeting… God, he hated her.

(Flashback)

The intensity of the previous events still pounded against her ribcage, slowly dulling as she drifted farther from the scene. In actuality, it had been over an hour ago, but it felt as though she was still there, amidst that ignorant crowd… watching that iron fist pound mercilessly against an unrecognized face. Another shiver ran up her spine at the chilling thought… How could someone be so severe? It disgusted her actually, and she wanted to get the picture out of her mind, but the damn thing would not relent. As the flashes came before her eyes, she continued walking with a slow, tight stride… unaware of the paleness of her knuckles as she clung tighter to her notebook and folder. In the chaos of her thoughts, it suddenly dawned on her that she didn't know the reason behind it all. She had just seen the crowd… the fist… the victim… The onlookers were as though stone, watching the scene with no interruption, completely engrossed… amazed, perhaps.

Not knowing what had gripped her, she ran forward, trying to contain the fist. Just as she was readying for a fall, she remembered an arm capture her waist, bracing her imbalance. The thud of the fist had silenced, instead… there was a low, throaty voice laced with words of threat or comfort… she couldn't decide. "Raising a hand on women is not in my principles… (Ladkiyon par haath utahana meri fitrat mein nahin…)." Her breath had lost its course and she realized she had been holding it in all along. Still a little faint, she tried to struggle out of the grasp steadying her… and then the authorities had shown up. She had turned just in time to catch a quick, but detailed view of the owner of the arrogant voice. Impulses of anger and fear raged through her nerves as she watched him being sided by the principal…

And now her feelings were confused. The hall had become slowly vacant, with a few students lingering here and there. Stopping before her locker, she heard bits conversation float to her hears wantonly. Don't eavesdrop, she scolded herself mentally. But the words were stubborn and she found her hands fumble uselessly with her lock combination while concentrating on the flow of words… "… he shouldn't have been taken away. The other guy was Shashank, you know, the cocky jerk who thinks he owns everything he sees."… "Yeah, but why was Shiv pounding him?"… "Apparently the guy has been doing circles around Shiv's cousin-friend, whoever she is…" She bit her lip at the tone of the last few words. There was an element of disgust and jealousy in them. "Click…" Startled, she looked at her lock with surprise, it never opened so easily when she was paying attention. Throwing aside the thought, she opened the door of the locker, replacing her History notebook and reaching for her Hindi one, along with another folder containing an unfinished draft of her Hindi paper for Professor Chakarborty's class. Looking up, she realized the dials on the mini clock she had hung… 4:17! Oh no, she was so late. Shoving the rest of her things quickly aside, she picked up her books and bag, shutting the door and locking it, before hurrying ahead in the vacant hallway.

The importance of time dulled in slow-motion as she realized herself being swung around… her eyes barely catching the fall of her books. Instinctively, she brought down the curtains of her vision, while searching for sense in the chaos of the present. The breaths came rapidly to her, and she felt her wrists become secured in handcuffs while her back hit a solid wall... sealing her fate. After a few seconds of contemplation, she opened her eyes barely adjusting to the darkness… There was a dim, forgotten light coming from some corner, casting a gloomy light across various objects, which she recognized as being from the janitor's closet. Janitor's closet!… Her cheek was pressed firmly against the wall, and she felt a tingle of warm breath meet her skin. Jerked alive, her heart began to run… "Mere mamlon mein mujhe dakhal-andaazi bilkul pasandh nahin…(I don't like others interfering with my matters…)" The voice was not heard of much, but she instantly recognized the rough whisper… In a split second, she realized the handcuffs imprisoning her wrists were indeed handcuffs… his hands, holding hers. Hesitantly, she turned her face towards his… illuminated through stark rays of light. Despite the dimness, her eyes focused on his. They were dark, impossibly dark. For a minute, she forgot her struggling wrists, amazed by the eyes. Were they burning hers too?… But then the voice broke her trance. She could read the distaste in his voice clearly now. "Shiv Kapoor ka ek asool hai… Pehli baar, aakhri baar. Issilye chodh raha hoon… warna… (Shiv Kapoor has a moto… First time, last time. Hence, I'm leaving you… otherwise…" Her mind juggled between fits of anger, irritancy, confusion, fear and something she could not recognize. "Ayenda apna muh kholne se pehle soch lena… (Next time, think before you speak…)" Dumbfounded, she felt the words escape her… After a long, intense pause with his coals of eyes burning through her, she felt a thick wave of consciousness well up in her eyes. "Waise bhi, kehte hain ehri gehri cheezon ke muh nahin lagte…(Besides, they say you shouldn't get involved with useless, random things…). She felt as though slapped tightly across the face. As he released her with a force of disgust, insulted, infuriated, doubtful and crumbling… she watched his dusky, tall figure merged slowly with the shadows stopping shortly in the divide between light and dark. Noticing her dupatta trail desperately after him, she realized that a mere stranger… this stranger, had managed to take something away from her that no one had, or could. He had unveiled her and stolen a precious part of her… He stood immobile for a minute, and then she saw his head turn slightly, while gathering the soft material within his rough grasp… forcing it upon her face. Her head turned to the side and she could feel the shame burn her cheeks as she looked towards the black floor, a solitary tear falling down her face. She would never forget him… or herself…

(End flashback)

She woke up with a start… Beads of perspiration formed upon her forehead and she ran a shaky hand through her open tresses… The presence next to her did not stir and she felt relief swarm over her as she looked around at the familiar shadows of her room. Without much thought, she found herself throwing aside the covers, heading silently to the closed door. As the water gushed over her skin, she relished the cool against her warmth… Looking through the glass, she realized the reflection stare back at her pensively… Startled, she took a step back… The day's events ran back to her… Her mind was stirred in chaos… and relief seemed nowhere near. Standing next to the door to the tall shower, she suddenly undid the satiny tie of her night robe before stepping in… The water came over her like a flood of memories….

Cheers,
dc

Thank you all so much!! I will reply to your comments individually soon. Next part is up;)

Cheers,
dc