Posted:
When words give way to silence and eyes are full of questions, it becomes obvious that there are feelings to be repressed and wounds to be licked in private' -Geet 😉
Silence seemed to be the best resort today after her words (no, his words) fell on him like cold water, only it was worse than any of the water buckets she had thrown on him.
The water never hurt, the words did.
They silenced him into blankness.
Did he actually say these things?
Then why did he wish to stop her from repeating them?
She would not look at him, and then he knew she would not listen to a word he said today, because she pulled her hand from his.
That perhaps shocked him more than anything else.
The lack of her hand in his felt like he was trapped in an ice cold room, and was slowly suffocating.
She left. And with her warmth, he felt exposed to the coolness of his decisions.
Meeting her in the hallway and walking away from her was turning out to be harder than he expected. He almost managed too, except for that bracelet of hers, that seemed to have a soft spot for his sleeve button. As he disentangled it, he made the mistake of looking at her, only to have her looking back.
What could he say? Could he say anything?
Why did he feel like there were no words left in the world for them?
For, what was there to say?
But, hidden, he could reveal to himself his need to look at her, just one more time. He could feel she was there, but he could not see her. Perhaps he was mistaken.
Being around her, he felt he could breathe.
He was wrong.
He felt his breath catch, his heart fall right through his chest into his stomach, leaving him speechless, breathless, and simply stunned.
She was a vision to behold as she walked into the room, quietly overshadowing everything animate and inanimate around her, as she walked into the room.
Words failed him for the third time today.
For what could he say?
So he beheld her, and saw in high definition, the beauty she always possessed because she refused to talk to him. He looked at those eyes that were outlined and highlighted even more, so as to pronounce the sparkle in them. A sparkle he could (and did) think about for days.
Her face, her beautiful figure:HER. She was so beautiful. He could not talk. He must say something.
But what?
He almost saw red as she moved uncomfortably around, he could not look into her eyes anymore; could not see her face.
And he knew he had to stop this humiliation. No one could dare to make her do what she did not want to; he'd not missed the hesitation in her hands as she was imperiously ordered to change dresses and model around. She was not an object to be shown off.
So he did what he thought was best, picked random dresses for Tia, she'll be fine, and he could not bear to have Anika do something she did not wish to do.
And then he was alone. With her.
To cover up the silence, to extend one more moment with her, he said falteringly that Tia did not understand anything sometimes.
Her answer and her eyes chilled him to the core, till he felt he would disappear in a dark void.
And just like that, she left.
Did he know everything, after all?
Was this his firm decision?
Cold, alone. Without her sparkle, the room dimmed, and still he stared at her retreating figure till she disappeared from his vision.
Writers Corner: Books, Stories & Poems
Anupamaa
Kumkum Bhagya
