A special thanks to Nilesh Rajpurohit. 🙂 And yes, he is the co-writer of this post. Do leave your comments and help us improve.
“That’s unfair. ” She said.
He looked at her. She was amazing. She looked beautiful even while she wore a loose tee and shorts. She had something in her that sank his heart every time he looked at her. Somewhere he wanted to believe that this moment will last forever. He and she will last forever. He never said anything, it only revealed enough.
“Everything is fair.” Veer teased as he pulled her papers from her diary. Mere papers for you and me. But they were life to her, stories of her. The papers were records of her thoughts, her feelings. Those words she could tell to no one, just her pen knew. She gleefully allowed him to be a part of it. She allowed him to venture into her vulnerabilities. She let him in, in all the intimate places no one dared to enter. Mishty hid things from herself which somewhere she felt would lead to lose both of them. She was brave. He sometimes would smile at her bravery, most of the times, at her innocence.
For Veer, the journey of knowing her was a fairytale. A road to paradise. How swiftly she changed from being subtle to the scent he would be drawn in, any time, every time.
Things were about to take a turn. The time which favoured their story, now had different things on mind. He’ll be gone, long gone.
“I want to stay.” He said.
“Where are you going? Obviously you have to stay. You can’t even think of getting rid of me.” She teased. He smiled. She was cute.
“I wouldn’t even dream of getting rid of you. It’s just that I need to take care of something before I can come back to you, forever.” He said, half hoping she’d believe.
“Something more important than me?” She asked. His eyes tried scrutinizing her emotions.
“What about my papers? Half filled and half waiting for you to help me fill in?” Her voice was low. How the minutes of joy turned into something that was hard to take-in, for Mishty!
“Give me the unfilled. I’ll take care of them. Till I return, you read the ones we’ve written together.” He said.
“You’re kidding, right?” She let a low laugh, hoping that he was kidding. “You know that you can not go.”
“My parents. They deserve to know I’ll be happy with you. They’ll understand.” Telling her, no truth. He shuddered. He didn’t know who he was convincing; her or himself?
She smiled. It was her turn to understand, again.
“Here.” She gave him the papers from her bag; unfilled, incomplete. She turned around and walked towards the kitchen; maybe to hide her tears.
He walked to the door. He knew, the longer he stayed, the tougher it would become to leave.
“I’ll be back soon.” He murmured the final words leaving the door ajar.
Only left were the pages on the table, without their pen and their writers.