SHE felt her arms heavy. Limbs. Head. And whole body. A grimace appeared on her face at this sudden unexpected malaise while waking up. The trick of twelve hours of sound slumber made her blandly seek for its cause but an impulsive glance by her side made the reason obvious. There lay a man on his stomach, still on his sleep. The man possessed a strong and muscular undressed body. She must be heavy as lead indeed. Looking at his face, she could say he was far away from the real world. A lazy smile crept on her lips at the way his one arm away from her twisted carelessly and mouth half opened. Cautious to not disturb him, she softly disengaged her shoulder from his chin. Then she carefully picked away his another arm that wrapped about her waist and slid away from the blanket. He stirred slightly when she stepped down the bed. She stiffened for a moment and smiled at him quickly getting back to sleep. She blinked as she couldn’t believe he could appear this tamed. This instant he looked totally a different version of himself. His rough manly face bereft of those sharp hawk eyes and thin lined mouth looked approachable. Easily and very much easily. Like she’d never before felt. Even in sleep he was always on his guard. She’d always feared him. Fear of falling for his assiduousness and overly manliness. She might have had covered it well, but to speak honest since she’d met him she dreaded most of the times with the way he was approaching her with his queries. With his dangerously calm demeanor and inflexible narrow gaze despite her reluctance in cooperating with him. His strong s*xuality added more to it. He was unknown and s*xy. Masculine and handsome. Plain and sharp. Sensual and sincere. Unreachable and determined. Unrelenting and listening…She always had had to summon all her will powers to bring on distraction from her desperate want to curl and disappear into his strong arms. To turn a blind eye to that hey-woman-I-know-you-are-affected blatant throw of face. Now looking at him this gullible, she felt the need to run her lean fingers through his tousled silky locks. Just as she was about to move a step, she realized her weightiness was not only because of the hard, prolonged s*x session she’d had last night but also of the hangover. Her face distorted as she clamped her forehead on either side with her left hand in an effort to keep her body in contact with the ground. Oh god, what was that brand, she wondered irritably. She should’ve given ear to her gut-saying when she dubiously wondered about allowing new stuff enter her body last night itself. And he too had had it just for her sake. An impulsive guilt made her have a look at his face. That was why he looked this tamed, she realized. A moment, she felt the mixture of happiness and regret take birth inside her conscience. Happy because she’d never seen him giving blind credence to anyone. He’d even removed his gun when she asked just like that before they made love. Regret because he was almost unconscious now. Which she knew he surely wasn’t going to love later.
Leaning over, she whispered near his ear, “Hey”.
When he didn’t budge, she gently tapped at his shoulder twice but to no avail. She pecked his lips and drew the thick blanket up to his naked nape before putting on her nightgown. Slowly she guided her legs and stood by the window at the nook of the single bedroom flat. As she slid the blinds aside, fog would’ve assaulted her to suffocation, she thought, if the glass barricade wasn’t in between. The glossy white mass was thick and strictly restricted one’s vision through it. Suddenly she felt in her veins the flood rush of covet for an incessant fog all through. It’d already been falling for over a week now and she wanted it for all her life. Until her death so that no one could see through it and penetrate into her world. Her failure life wouldn’t be served as a delicious tittle-tattle for the chewing teeth. She could conjure up men and women in leather clothing randomly moving somewhere out there but she was sure any existing entity would fail to sense her silent existence past this veil of fog. Each and every soul from the other side of this shield wasn’t aware she’d a shitty life. A barking dog passing by didn’t know a tear drop was trickling down her cheek by now. That shivering cat which meowed in its utter discomfort in this cold weather had no idea she anyhow was extremely happy with what had now turned up to be life for her. The person who just now drastically rushed the car somewhere very, very close to her flat, into the garage under the apartment, had no clue that her chosen life was unholy according to the so called norms of the society. This was her life and no one could make a breach through this protective shield. She felt her gut grow thick with a new born intrepidity as her spine straightened up without her noticing it. Her past was past and she needed her present and future to be lived within this secured wall of fog. With this, no one could be able to nose her. The dogging crowd and all the flashing lights of craps would be occurring on another planet. Everything was perfect and complete from being here. A drop of beauty amid hell and ominousness amid heaven with which she was more than contented. All she wished now was she had the courage to inform her father that her decision was to lead the rest of her life with the man on bed, quitting everything else. Could she be able to do that? Could her father survive that shock? Shock! No, her insides protested emphatically. How could your own father deny you your happiness? He would definitely understand her. And she could do that – could quit. She loved this man and…wait! But did this man love her back actually? He loved her she knew but as in real love? Real love that ends up in marriage, making family, holding hands and growing old together to finally tell each other with pride “We made it.”? To her appall, she realized anew he’d never made such promise. In fact, he never said he loved her. Maybe he was caring and possessive about her like every man who truly loves a woman but he never admitted it in simple words that he loved her. Sensing the rapid fear brewing in each fiber of her muscles, she turned rather abruptly. He was there. The burning sensation around the flesh of her ears and forehead immediately subsided. She shifted her gaze past the window glass again. The fog was there. Falling incessantly. Seducing and spilling whispers which she was in no mood to listen to. While losing her into the hazy spell, little did she know it was she whom the magical white layer was actually leading up the garden path from witnessing the other side of the world. It blindfolded her just before the curve that paved a dark path to the ferocious and hungry big cat’s den ahead. You never know the power of the torrential currents roaring in the shore being sailing in the midst of a beguiling beauty of the vast serene ocean. She’d no idea a storm was approaching to wreak havoc in her life when she determinedly detached her sternly clutched fingers from the fabric. She didn’t draw the blinds back, but instead, almost ran to him.
“Oh my god, I love you so much,” she said convulsively as she threw herself on his back burying her face into the crook of his neck.
It was when she gasped she realized she struggled breathing as her nose blocked because of crying. Her behavior surprised herself but she didn’t care. She was no longer in a need to carry a fake face as she felt happy crying her heart out. After really a long while, she’d shed off the inhibitions and come out emotionally stripped off. Call her the weakling now, she wouldn’t give a shit. Because, she wasn’t the one she knew.
She groped and then grabbed the gun from the side table. “Hey, you, listen.” She sucked her nose, wiping her eyes with the back of her gun held hand to get the coherence of his image. “Now I’m gonna carry your gun out to the kitchen to prepare some lemonade. I swear you are gonna give me that spine chilling stare for severing your wife from your hips,” she babbled in a slurry voice and chuckled in between her gasps. “But you can’t intimidate me anymore for I really love you, dammit!”
Burying her face even more into him, she started shuddering uncontrollably.
Each of her cell stifled in a death grip when she heard him mumble back in his sleep, “Love you, too.”
She heard her heat beating the wildest against her ribs and temples. They were alone. He and she. She felt hypersensitive that she worried if he could hear her. Did he just voice it! What else did she want? Other than being like this forever. Fairytale could happen. Only she’d been wrong all this while. She was going to love him day and night and shape her life perfect sculpting off the unnecessary heart shredding pieces. It itched her to hear him again and with such gusto she was about to shake the life out of him when there was a…
What was that!
She found herself jump out of her skin and her heart skipped several beats. Was that a gunshot! She was unequivocal it was from the kitchen as the other room her flat had was only that besides the washroom which anyhow was straight opposite from where the sound emanated. Taken the breath away, she darted to the kitchen in a flash, unaware that he too sprang off his sleep right then. Her legs stopped dead in their tracks at the kitchen’s doorway. An incredulous gasp escaped her lips as she sealed her mouth with her hands at the sight before her eyes. A person wearing red checked shirt lying haphazardly on the kitchen’s floor on his stomach.
“No!” She vigorously shook her head.
She broke into profuse sweats and her cold body started shaking visibly. Her bones loosened and turned feeble. This wasn’t real! The shirt color wasn’t red, it wasn’t checked and not particularly the one which she’d purchased just the previous day. All the more he wasn’t bleeding and blood wasn’t spurting such wildly out of the pernicious rupture below his left shoulder. She was dreaming. blo*dy dreaming! But she unfortunately was aware enough she was too real a hysterical by flesh and bones to be on a dream. Her muscles locked and turned frozen hearing his erratic breathing. Beads of perspiration popped up on her forehead. His pants turned drastically quick, more audible and he was straining himself to flip over. It seemed like he wanted to convey her something before taking his last breath as he despairingly stretched out his arm toward her but failed miserably to exert his head up.
Her trance broke. “No, no, no!” She shrieked out dashing toward him. “You aren’t dying. This isn’t done for god’s sake,” she kept on shouting out maddeningly. He needed to be hospitalized in the soonest of times.
Her whole form froze dead when she heard him take a long deep breath and then his body relaxed in a persistent sag. His outstretched arm slowly settled on the floor. No more movement then. Tears didn’t stop streaming down her cheeks. The fact was obvious. She felt thousands of poisoned darts making way past her heart shredding it into pieces. Hadn’t she stood startled for some seconds, he could’ve been saved. She was sorry to her death.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed bearing a pang of remorse. Her jaw twitched, lower lip convulsed as she sucked a heavy inhalation through her cracking throat. “I’m sor…”
“Finally. very. well. done. woman!” The categorically gruff voice gave her a turn toward its direction. The tone of the voice was totally eccentric to her.
There stood him. Her love. At the doorway. She looked at his blurry form through the brimming tears. His malevolent stance scared the living daylights out of her. The hard planes of his face were evident and he wore such belligerence that she couldn’t stomach it. All of a sudden he gave her a total stranger’ share of presence. It bore no global concern toward her that would generally say you simply knew the other person. He seemed deliberate. He wanted to be straight and outward – cutting off the ties and undoing everything they’d shared in a tap. The intense of his approach was gashing harsh. It started slicing into her flesh painfully squeezing the blood out of her soul. At the loss, she forgot about the dead man behind her and about the need to think about the cause for his murder. The absolute twinge she felt because of the fact she couldn’t even get to see the dearly face of the killed person for one last time was overtaken by the black calm look his love hurl at her. It threatened her of throw up. She cringed feeling dirty as her body was covered with the burning disgust he was weaving around. What could it be? She followed his stern rancorous gaze and it ended on his gun she’d on her hand. Her eyes rounded in horror as realization dawned on her. Her shivering fingers went lax abandoning the weapon; she was broken into speechlessness. Had he…had he just inferred… Just then something unusual happened in her stomach. It churned, she restrained a gag but before long everything spun around. She felt she was coming into the possession of strong band of arms. It wasn’t him though, she sensed it from the hold. She could say it was more than one person. It felt like a small crew. He thought she was a murderer! He just had inferred it! How could he! How could he even think she could kill, and that too, this man particularly…Wait! Was she tricked? Was she set up for this moment and used for granted on the process of reaching this conspired instant? Wasn’t he really for what she thought him to be? Whatever the shit it was, she fathomed out she was going to be marked and flashed as a killer in all the headlines of the tele channels now. Period. Oh, her father. No! She shouldn’t pass out. She just shouldn’t pass out like this. Not now. Not when she was tackled and framed up. She needed to break the snare and get out of this house. She should escape before her father saw things about this obscenity, lest the poor soul would die in shame for sure. She must stay conscious no matter what. She must fight. But strange things were happening inside her body she couldn’t interpret and fight. She knew she was gliding down into the dark cave and attaining buoyancy but couldn’t help giving in.
Credit to: Thena