"Doctor Deshmukh." Priyanka gasps at the bald man approaching her.

"How many times do I need to correct you? It's Akhil for you, dear." He beamed at her, which she immediately reciprocated as the hug came along. "How are you doing, Priyanka?" He sincerely asked. "After you moved here, I contacted your mother, Krishant, and Dr. Saralkar. I wanted to talk with you, but your mother kept me updated." Surprisingly, Sarangi and Akhil have become quite friendly, which has amazed Priyanka.

"I am alright. But all I do is rest. You should have called me instead." Priyanka politely replied. She was genuinely happy to see a familiar unadulterated face in the crowd of judgemental perceptions.

"Well, you deserve to rest." Akhil fixed his rim glasses momentarily. "I see your hair has grown out quite well." On cue, Priyanka tucked a strip of her brown hair behind her ear.

"Yes. It has." Priyanka sighs. "But I didn't expect to see you here. How are you doing?"

"I am doing great. But I did expect to see you here. Krishant changed the venue for the exhibition three weeks ago. It was back in Mumbai earlier." He smiles. "I knew he did it for you."

"Krish changed the venue?" that was all she could register.

"Yes. It caused a substantial loss to Krishant, but I knew the cause was you." Priyanka blinked thrice.

"Why would he do that?"

Akhil shrugged, "I don't know exactly, but I am assuming. Didn't he tell you anything?" Priyanka remained silent. "I can understand." Akhil sighs. "You don't even remember him, and you're still trying to normalize some things around you, especially people. And it could be rough," he says, "I can only imagine waking up one day and finding things to be different." Priyanka was aware of Akhil's gaze on her growing hair, which he chopped off during her surgery. "Not remembering is a nightmare. But running away and denying the facts could lead you nowhere. Don't you agree?"

His words struck her, reminding her of her first meeting with Krishant. Did Krish ask him to talk with me? He shouldn't pity her; he was doing his job. He might have thought differently, if Priyanka was dead right now. They wouldn't even be having a conversation like this.

But her condition was worse than the death itself. She doesn't remember the past two months and slept away the other two months of her life.

"Anyways, I know you're doing just great, Priyanka. Krishant actually asked me to talk to you." Priyanka inhales, "Heard you're giving him some hard time." He teasingly laughs. I knew it!

Priyanka rolls her eyes and chooses to ignore his statement. "For how long do you know Krish?" Akhil recovers.

"Since the beginning of his career," he assures, "He's doing magnificent from the very start."

"Then you must know him quite well." Akhil nodded.

"You want to know something about him?" Priyanka hesitantly agrees, "But I don't know him on such a personal level. I didn't even know he was your boyfriend until he approached me in the hospital."

"Yeah, about that, Maa never met him in the hospital." Priyanka trusted the surgeon who saved her life and his benevolence as putting forward her doubts to him wasn't a problem.

"Well, that's on Krishant. He was doubtful about meeting your mother, or anyone else from your family for that matter."

"Did he tell something about that?"

"Yeah. Krishant said that you didn't want him to meet your family or friends. I never asked why," Akhil said, "Priyanka, you think we should be talking about this here?" He throws a suggesting look at her.

She ignored his request, "How often did he visit at the hospital?" Akhil froze as he internally calculated the answer to the question.

"Quite often, I guess."

"And he never once met my mother or brother? Not even coincidentally?"

"He would only visit after confirming with me or my nurse." Akhil stayed serene with Priyanka as he knew the cause of her desperate questions. He was the only reliable source of information for her. "Priyanka, how about we meet after the exhibition? We can talk afterwards."

"Sure." Priyanka nonchalantly nodded, disturbed by the fact that everything that Krishant did had a reason. Everything that he had said so far is proving to be sincere with no plot holes. Maybe sincerity is all he meant towards Priyanka. It was making her seem the ungrateful brat.

Soon, they deliberately decided to run out of topics as the silence fell between them. Akhil turned and suddenly fell into a trance of fascination. The thing he was really here for was finally in front of his sight: the portraits.

He urges to touch the masterpieces, but the restrictions bound him. "You see, Priyanka, Krishant might be anything as a person, but he is excellent as an artist."

Priyanka draws her stare at Akhil after scanning the gathering people around them and finds him admiring the portrayal that has already raised many doubts within her. She supposed Akhil was a hard-core fan of Krishant, which was something she never expected. The maniacal look covered his features as he gazed at every detail of the paintings, making Priyanka almost mistake him for someone else.

It wasn't just Akhil, every other person presented at the exhibition had been enchant as they captured every inch of the art that hung for the art perverted hungry eyes. Priyanka has also approved Krishant Sanghvi for his talents; she has genuinely relished his gift to her.

Akhil's words resonated with her as she gazed at the portraits and the mesmerized onlookers. It wasn't merely the striking blood-red hues that defined the portraits, but also the accents of yellow, white, and black that perfected these masterpieces. The other paintings made no sense to Priyanka, just like Krishant. And she doubts if Akhil understands the intent behind them either, but the portraits clearly were describing the women in Krishant's life.

She never supposed Akhil to be an admirer of Krishant; she never considered him to be someone who enjoys art. But now that she focuses on him, she remembers the different paintings that decorated his cabin at the hospital she once visited back at the hospital. Priyanka concludes that Akhil admires colors and design more than the meaning behind the paintings through his convivial and indefatigable personage.

"I have always seen the passion within Krishant, but this is something different." Akhil smiles, "This is something I have never seen before from him."

"What?" Akhil adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses with a squinted gaze as he leaned forward, unable to touch the art.

A moment later, he retreated, grin spreads across his oval face. "Krishant was trying something new. He tweeted that a year ago, but I never expected him to be this unique."

"What is it?"

"You might want to come closer for you to see." Akhil gestures Priyanka to tilt towards the center portrayed as he steps aside. Akhil points his slender index finger towards the portion of the painted area as he explains, "That is blood, my dear." He says after thorough analysis, "The portraits are been painted with blood." He declares.

"What?" Priyanka gasps at the unforeseen words. Akhil promptly moves toward the first portrait in the row as he again examines it the same.

"Yes. I am right. It's the dry blood mixed with paints." His grin widens.

"How- How is that possible?" Priyanka's face pales at the thought of Krishant painting with someone's blood.

"I am a surgeon, Priyanka. I know what blood looks like, even if it has dried." Akhil clarifies with amusement as he notices how bewildered Priyanka seemed. A chuckle left his lips, "It's okay, Priyanka. Every artist experiments with different kinds of colors for their work, and if blood can satisfy the vision they want for their art, then there's nothing wrong with that."

It is wrong when Krish uses blood to satisfy himself. Priyanka thought.

The blood-red that she considered as the paint was the actual blood of someone. She further wonders if her painting was also painted with blood. The thought alone creeps her as she visibly cringes. She would most probably burn down the gifted portrait then.

The glorious artworks soon succumb to the wicked outlook of Priyanka. The imaginary smell of blood debased the admiration for the creator who hypnotized the minds of millions, especially the one who lives under the same roof as him.

It was only Priyanka, who thought that others also regarded using someone else's blood for painting as unpleasant or spooky. But others just praised the artist for his creativity.

Maybe the professed past between them and judging all the past events and conversations between them led Priyanka to think differently about Krishant now. But the damages were already done, and all his efforts were inadequate as soon as she questioned his need for using blood.

"Paint Me Red." Akhil read the inscribed writing, "It's the name of the paintings written here." He points at the same corner Priyanka spotted the calligraphy writing before. "What would that means?" he further mumbles as he concentrates on the words.

What story would Krish narrate behind this name now? Just another story, I guess.

A deep ache stirred within her as she conceded the process of mindset her subconscious created about Krishant. How many more lies will he feed her, or how many lies will he serve the world?

"I should find Krish and congratulate him." Akhil announced, "Oh, and tell your mother my hi!" Priyanka said her farewells as well, "Meet me later?" Priyanka nodded, "See you around, Priya." And the middle-aged man left.

Akhil's last words and the comfort craving event reminded Priyanka of her mother's words against Krishant. She ignored her mother's psychic instincts: she was blinded by the betrayal. Priyanka's unforgiving nature was always a hurdle in many of her relationships. Human tends to make mistakes; she understood the meaning of it quite late.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted a piercing gaze throwing daggers at her. The same burgundy hair woman smirked at her with glares that highlighted the slight wrinkles around her bright eyes from the other side of the room. Priyanka remained motionless on her spot in front of the portraits that hung on the wall.

She emanates the unsaid disputes between them as the challenge radiant from her. Seeing Priyanka so motionless, she clenched her jaw tighter and a tight-lip smile plastered on her red lips before moving her eyes to the hanging portraits. Priyanka cognized the nefarious intent behind her taunting eyes.

Without hesitation, Priyanka turned around and left the place.

You will be one of them soon. Her eyes said, as if Priyanka already is not.

____________

Thank you for reading...Do SHARE, VOTE and COMMENT.