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The Grey Area
We found shelter in some ramshackle motel. It appears to be a pretty popular rest stop for truck drivers and couples on the run.
If you looked from afar, she seemed like the most peaceful soul in the world. Her serenity felt contagious. The emerald green of her lengha that made her skin glow in the soft afternoon light, the way her hair rested effortlessly on her side, and her posture akin a Mallika--she was divine.
But I didn't miss the way her forehead creased every now and then, and her tight grip on the pillow, the way a few tears slid past her cheek. She was living a nightmare.
But I wouldn't have expected her to react in any other way, she woke up to her death for god's sake. I could only imagine what it would feel like when your body forces you awake to witness your death, hoping your conscious self could do something, anything, only realize that it was all beyond your control. Had I gotten there a second late, I would've joined her...my guilty heart at the very least.
I was hesitant, but when I saw her irritated with an itch the loosely removed dirt caused, the damp towel in my hands made it to her face. Her skin was sinfully soft. If only she would stay like this forever, asleep for me to admire for hours without explanation.
I couldn't help myself from evening out the folds of tension on her forehead and caress her wet cheeks. I wasn't responsible for it, but I was guilty. I would tell her the truth. Something about her furrowed eyebrows made me want to lean in and...
She moved. I flinched. I'm guessing my breath woke her up. There was no backing out now, I would tell her.
***
She slurped the tomato soup, and for once I wasn't annoyed. Her child-like heart was hard to abhor.
"How are you feeling?"
"I don't know, how does one feel after waking up to their witness their death?"
The dull atmosphere of the room was a pity, really. The experience, if I could even call it that, must have been traumatic without a doubt, but there was something about her that made me want to believe she was strong enough to get through it at an impossible rate. I always seem to forget that she is also just human, and humans are vulnerable, emotional, and sensitive. Every single one. Especially her. The hope that I always found in her eyes made me feel alive, feel human, but it was gone.
Not the ideal time to confess, but I had to get it off my chest. Yes, I was selfish.
"When they... those treacherous basta-"
"I know," She looked up from her bowl, her eyes were red. "When they cornered us, you were there. It's strange but I had this feeling, I knew I was going to be okay, somehow, someway you'd make it okay. But then when they... when I fainted... the last thing I saw, and the first thing I remembered when I was shocked awake... it was you... walking off..."
"And I want you to know I'm sorry,"
"I guess I can understand, it's not like you could have done anything, one move and they would've shot you. And we'd be discussing this in heaven."
I was in awe. She didn't even consider for a second the disgusting possibility that was the unfortunate reality.
"No... I walked away, by choice rather than desperation. I actually... I was going to leave you there. It was only when I got to the middle of the road that my brain started functioning again, and I realized what atrocious idiocy, if I may use that simple of a term, I was to commit. You would've never known, but I would've never been able to sleep at night if I didn't tell you."
She looked at me for a silent moment, she was trying to figure out how to react. Without uttering a single word she turned to her soup, and this time, there was no slurp.
"I... I just wanted to confess. And trust me when I say this, although you don't have much of a reason too, I regret it and I always will. I'm sorry,"
"I know,"
***
She leaned against the headboard, contemplating my image from above as I laid a sheet on the floor for the night.
"You can sleep up here if want," she offered.
"I'll pass,"
"You don't want to?"
"I don't think I'll be able too," I turned to lock the door. Her eyes never left me, once. I wondered if I wanted to know what she was thinking. She brought together the curtains and looked straight into my eyes for the first time that night. I watched her eyes make a decision but she still looked confused.
I blew out the candle and lay flat on the ground, the cover still at my feet, the cheap motel pillow harder than the floor. She faced the window, leaving me to find comfort at the sight of her back. I attempted to entertain myself with the bland ceiling wondering if we'd would ever return to "normal". Granted our relationship had never been what they'd consider normal, but I wouldn't want it like that anyways, I wanted our "normal". I erred, it was unforgivable, but I don't know why I deep down somewhere I hoped she would. But again, I had to remind myself, she is only human.
It was then that she turned over to my side.
A special human.
Her eyes were open, and not bothering to be discreet her hand reached out from above.
And there in that cheap on-the-road-motel in Mangalpur, with her hand in mine, held between the still existing barrier of the floor and the bed, I realized that between black and white there was a grey area.
We were there.
***
Dedicated to my Jazzy (-Jazzy-) because she loves Mangalpur so much, sorry it took so long, but it had to be awesome considering the dedication. And people write more Mangalpur stuff for her, seriously, she needs it. Save her from reading the Bingo fics.
I hope you liked it
-Shweta
Shiv Shakti
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