~Demand and Consent.~

"Your eyes.

Your eyes hold everything

my soul thirsts for."

- Perry Poetry.

************

The mirror on the bathroom's ceiling reflected her body, dousing in the bathtub.

The moments in her eyes and breaths were abnormally slow as Shravya perceived her own reflection.

Naked and quiet.

That's what the mirror illustrated - it wasn't true but it wasn't wrong either.

She was naked but being quiet didn't mean she was in harmony. Quietness is itself a wording of noiseless chaos.

Slowly, she drove her fingers through her wet locks while altering her body lower, more into the water.

The bathtub was huge. And at that moment, if she wanted she could just end her life effortlessly, by drowning - she would have done this if she wouldn't have come this far, if she would have been the same Shravya from months ago.

The same Shravya who at some moments only wanted a way out of the mess. She just wanted a way out, even if the way was wrong.

Now, she won't do that again.

She wasn't that human anymore. She changed and adjusted herself because when all the paths get blocked, a person either chooses to calm down and think of building a way out or scream and cry till his endurance give up.

The choice was, and is still between dive or drown.

Last time, she chose to dive, a cowardly attempt to be free by breaking the laws of life and unnaturally submitting to death---by committing suicide.

This time she decided to drown, wanting to see the depths of her fate.

And this time, She won't stop.

She will drown and drown until she could actually collide with the end of the surface, and see - from where she had fallen, which direction is honestly the way out of the profundities.

Maybe in her way, she will find not only herself but him also---The lost him.

Maybe. Just...maybe.

What if the Zaid she knew is only lost?

What if he is still somewhere out there, waiting for help?

Maybe she can help?

Maybe drowning has always been their only way out.

With these thoughts in her mind, Shravya again shifted her position, fully sinking herself in the tub.

She will find a way out, she surely will.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The young night and its sky were all about darkness, with no moon and stars, only the beauty of the dark shade.

On the silent road, a ghost-black Royal Royce was running, its familiar yet dark aura giving some whiffs of its owner---Zaid, who was settled inside the car, on his way back home.

Mindlessly, the pad of his thumb ran laps around the smooth edge of the crystal glass. He wasn't thinking about the glass in his hold or about the champagne stirring near the bottom of that glass---his thoughts and eyes, both were centred on the laptops' screen.

The device was settled on his lap as from multiple, well-placed cameras, the screen showed the things happening in his estate. But only a certain someone had his attention who was moving around her room.

Patiently, he watched, as with having only a bathrobe on, Shravya shuffled through the closet.

He mentally propelled himself to guess which dress she was going to pick, but before his curiosity could peek further, his phone rang, demanding his awareness.

Giving the caller ID a glance of disdain, he answered the call. "Yes, Zaid Grover speaking."

Because of the rawness of his harsh but impassive tone, there was a long silence on the other side before the person began speaking, meekly.

"Good evening, sir. Th-is...is Aryan Mathur."

"Oh, Mr. Aryan, I've wanted to talk to you for a very long time." Putting the phone on the speaker, Zaid took a sip of the champagne in his glass. "Glad that you have called even before I had to make the efforts."

"Your reporters are spying on me," he continued, not caring for the mute man on the other side. "Specifically on my house."

Again minutes of silence.

Zaid frowned. Now, the man was beginning to annoy him.

Whether in business or in her matters, he inferred that planning and patience were vital elements for success. But it doesn't mean that he will use that theory even while threatening someone.

Moreover, he should consider himself lucky that he was only threatening and not doing something worse.

"And do you think such behaviour is acceptable?" Zaid said. "Do you?"

The menace in his tone overtook the voidness and the man had no choice but to respond. "No...sir."

"Yes, so you better learn this thing thoroughly, word-by-word," he spoke as his gaze slowly swept against the laptops' screen.

A dark smile curled the corner of his lips as he saw Shravya finally picking out a dress to wear, but just as she pulled her bathrobe off, he turned off the laptop; okay, that was too personal to watch through cameras.

"I hate having intruders, poking their nose in my personal life." Again with a cold voice, he continued. "Next time, don't let me have a reason to contact you again."

"Believe me, I would love to make that meeting not pleasant."

"I understand."

Just as the reply arrived from the man's side, Zaid lazily finished his champagne and dumped the glass to where it belonged.

However, before he could end the conversation, the man's voice exhorted a no end."Sir now, can you tell your man to not release my photos."

Photos?

His brows ceased together before realisation caressed his features to regain their previous posture.

Oh, those photos.

He was, first and foremost, a businessman with an unimpeachable record of success, precisely when the initiative had his full commitment.

Before undertaking any deal, he first prefers to wholly examine the situation, excluding the risks and intensifying the assets.

That's what he had done---but with a slightly different approach---in the matter of Aryan Mathur.

He had targeted his weakest brick, which would lead to his fall.

"My face is clearly visible in those photos, and I will be ruined if my wife's father gets to know this," Aryan almost whispered. The things that Zaid had against him were some intimate and extremely personal photos of him and his mistresses.

"Hmm. You will be ruined," Zaid hummed, looking out of the car's window. "Bhut dhukh hua jaankar."

(So sad to hear this.)

With the cessation of his words, he disconnected the call.

To teach Aryan a good lesson was all that Zaid had imagined doing with him, and more---the climax of his ruination. From the moment he got Aryan's photos, Zaid knew that man will be doomed.

Only if Aryan would have been careful before choosing his opponent, then maybe, his life wouldn't have come to that point.

Everyone has secrets---their deep, dark secrets they want to protect for eternity.

Zaid also has a secret to protect - her.

And such secrets aren't meant to be revealed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Zaid stepped through the door to his house, Roy stood ready. "Sir, may I take your coat?"

"Dinner can be ready as soon as you like. Madam is waiting for you," he said, as with a very subtle nod, Zaid handed him his coat and bag before walking past him.

Despite the number of staff that Zaid had employed, silence loomed ubiquitously, authorizing the sound of his footsteps to echo through the vacant corridor as he strode straight to the dining room.

Suddenly, the pace of his steps ceased when her sight greeted him. Slowly, he moved towards her, who was standing beside the dining table, arranging the dishes, still obvious to the change in the atmosphere.

Reaching closer to her, he lazily leaned against the table, and when she still didn't acknowledge his presence, he abruptly grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled her closer to himself, earning a yelp of shock from her.

"What!..." Blinking gradually, Shravya let in a breath of mitigation when the familiar coal-black eyes gazed at her.

"Good evening, beautiful," Zaid whispered, deliberately leaning nigher to her ear. His voice was low and only two of them could hear it. "How was your day?"

For some seconds, Shravya stiffened, her chest seeming to become slightly stuffy before she finally stole another breath of air which this time was fused with his scent. "Nothing special. What about you? How was yours?"

"Same as usual." Zaid smiled, leaving her and pulling a chair for her.

"I'll join you in a few minutes, by then you can start eating." In the flow of those words, his eyes abruptly stopped upon the ring - their engagement ring. That gleaming ornament---made up of white gold with many small diamonds---was proudly conformed to her ring finger.

Only three months.

Solicitously, his eyes softened as he grabbed her hand, gently heaving her body down to the chair.

Only three months, that's what - she demanded and he had consented.

---✳❇✳---

(Forgiveness)

Lilies.

Lavenders.

Roses.

Tulips.

Oleanders.

Just name the flower, and it was there. Although it was impossible, still it seemed as if all kinds of flowers were present there, in her approach.

Holding her breaths restful, Shravya discerned the colourful scenery of the beautiful flowers, her gazes occurring to be enthusiastically fogged.

"I told you there are many places here that you would definitely love to visit." His voice was deep and clear in the silence surrounding the greenhouse. "Didn't I?"

Emotionally unapproachable as always, he stood a little too far away from her, his back fronting her as his words and the slight rising and falling of his shoulders maintained her awareness in his possession.

"This is one of those places."

He turned to look at her, a fully bloomed grin lingering on his mouth. Within that moment, among the stunning scenery, he was also a sight to behold, his aura surprisingly giving gusts of tenderness instead of the maliciousness that always envelops him.

The whole Greenhouse.

Its flowers.

The soothing sound of the water flowing in the fountain nearby.

The chirping of birds.

And the pretty butterflies, flying freely.

Everything was bewitching, including the man before her, who was dressed in his usual business attire but with a small difference - his all-black outfit was comprising a white shirt.

Today, the fallacy of a gentleman was escorting him, completely, perfectly, appearing too real to be an illusion.

But still, she could see through his veneer, too easily. Recently to her, his guise comes off just like tiny particles of dust in the air, nothing severe or thick to block anything---and it had made her unsettled.

After so long she could actually feel a bit eased near him, she could minorly but normally talk to him - and it troubled her because it has never happened since he became Zaid Grover.

It was as if he was intentionally allowing her to wander and see through his disguise. But why?

Why after so long?

What happened suddenly and made him so human and familiar to her?

Is he really changing or...

Is he just deceiving her again?

"I hope everything is up to your liking, but if anything still seems lacking, do let me know."

Her thoughts that had been running without a hitch suddenly stopped, sensing his presence too near. He was standing with having only some inches gap in between.

Raising her head, she looked into his coal-black eyes - those stunning orbs and their bizarre darkness as always seemed to conquer her endlessly with doing nothing but staring.

That's the effect he had on her. And what kind of effect it was. Whether it was nightmarish or cordial? - It was a strange question to answer.

She nodded which made him click his tongue, displeased. "Words, Sona."

"I'll let you know if I found something unlikable."

Hearing her slender voice, a faint smile festooned upon his lips as he hummed in satisfaction, the duplicitous tiredness somehow finding a way in gracing his features.

He heaved a sigh, running his fingers through his hair. "It's a tiresome day. I'm so exhausted." He peeked a glance at his wristwatch before shifting his eyes on her. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Then, we'll visit the library. Hmm." His hand lifted automatically, turning to take hers as he left an abiding kiss on her forehead, his eyes refusing to shut close as he perceived the way she closed her eyes, her breaths hitching in her throat even by that almost non-existent contact.

Then, the next moment, he left, even before she could have the chance to vanquish the weird sensation that was proudly lasting upon her forehead.

Consciously, with her fingertips tracing the skin of her forehead, the spot where he kissed, Shravya peered at the entrance from where he just walked out.

It was only noon, and she had no idea why he came back early from his office.

Maybe he was really just wearied.

She thought, moving around with slow deliberate steps, walking to the centre of the greenhouse, discerning every little and beautiful thing which was surrounding her.

The flowers, in particular, their symbolism and language had most of her attention.

Red camellias: Love, passion, and deep desire.

You're a flame in my heart - it's what that beautiful flower says.

Lavender roses - Enchantment.

Love at first sight.

Pink carnations: flowers to represent a mother's pure and never-ending love.

I'll never forget you.

Purple Hyacinths...

Suddenly, Shravya's heart sank, gazing at the very beautiful but painfully familiar flowers.

Purple Hyacinths.

They are a symbol of sorrow.

I'm sorry. Please forgive me - that's what they recite.

They were the flowers with which she used to plead for his forgiveness.

Willingly, her heart sink further in gloom and anxiety with her being perplexed over him, over his forgiveness---does she still needs that forgiveness?

~23 days and 2 months left.~

~~~~~~~~~~~~

(A Perfect Reason)

Born with new hopes, new beginnings, it was the birth of another day, with the birds chirping and flying in the cold air of the fresh morning.

Dazed and unfocused, Shravya mindlessly ran the hairbrush through her dark brown locks.

It was usually the same day at the Grover estate, though it marked the extinction of one more day from the three months she had requested.

She could have asked for more but as far as she had seen and observed him - even three months were the edge of his patience then let's just forget about adding a month or more.

It was better not to eat raw fruit when you perfectly know the taste would only be sour or bitter.

Somewhere, her inner self had her assured, somewhat hopeful for the things to take time in turning fortunate, so for now, being patient was the only solution she believed.

Suddenly the slight clicking sound of the doorknob sounded and the daze faded from her eyes, procuring back her consciousness.

A swift blink of her eyes surveyed the moment and a neat frown embellished her features as she observed Zaid royally stepping inside, with quiet and steady steps, but what stunned her was not him, or his---now partially familiar---aura.

It was the sight of him shuffling through the cupboard and fetching out a first aid kit that amazed her.

First aid kit? Is he hurt somewhere?

Her frown exacerbated."What are you doing?"

"Changing your bandages," Zaid replied, emptying the kit and placing ointment, bandages, and other stuff on the nearby table. "So, come here and take a seat on the couch."

"My head doesn't need to be bandaged anymore." Her eyes narrowed, the fractions of amusement sparkling in them. "Remember?"

Abruptly, Zaid stopped, a bit taken aback, his eyes hastily shifting on her, who now, was completely healed, physically.

"Wow, and people say you're a gifted being, with no flaws." Shravya chuckled with some hints of vacuity. "Today, I discovered another side of yours, Zaid Grover." Slightly, she shook her head, eyeing his tall figure that was still standing unmoved, awkwardly.

Being lost in that moment, she failed to witness the sly smirk that elegantly lifted the corner of his mouth - the thing he just did was willful. He purposely pulled that act, just to make her laugh.

"Are you planning to go to the office with that tie today?" Another question from her made him peek a glance at his tie that was hanging around his neck, untied.

"Oh, I was just going--" He changed his words, suddenly. "Do you you know how to tie this?"

His expression portrayed curiosity and a need for help, purely hiding every other emotion which---according to him---weren't needed at that moment. "Can you help me?"

"S-sure." Unconsciously, tossing a doubtful glance at him, Shravya stood up from her seat, slowly reaching to him.

"You should learn how to tie it." As she paused at a safe distance, gently grabbing his tie, Zaid stepped closer, watching her until he looms over her.

"Well. . . . " He stood nailed down and stared at her hands as she effortlessly tied his tie, her eyes not meeting his.

For a moment, he just blankly blinked, but an astonishing smile chiselled his lips the moment, she stilled, catching a diminutive hold of the time before peering into his eyes.

"It will be hard now."

He spoke, dropping his hands into the front pocket of his pants before cocking his head to the side as his coal-black irises captured her hazel ones.

"I just got a perfect reason not to learn."

~18 days and 2 months left.~

~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Poison)

The silence was devouring the atmosphere as standing with his back lazily resting upon the wall, and hands folded and tucked up to his chest, Zaid peered at Shravya who was stepping over to the dining table, carefully holding a bowl that was containing Veg Pulao.

"I had told you that I'm not good at cooking." Shravya uttered with an inkling of anxiety while putting the bowl on the table and setting the plates to begin serving."You were the one who insisted, so don't blame me if it tasted awful."

The delicious aroma of Veg Pulao dissipated through the air when Shravya served that spicy and yellowish rice dish on a plate for Zaid.

"It smells good." His dark eyes attentively observed her movements as he slowly approached her.

Stopping behind her, only a few inches away, densely his arm reached for the plate as he picked up a spoon and took a spoonful of that rice dish.

"You're such a little liar." In a fleeting glance, he turned to her, slowly chewing. "This? And Awful?" He pointed at the dish. There was a smile---a very beautiful smile---on his lips as he spoke.

"Absolutely, No." His smile softened, eyes illuminating like ponds of dark shades reflecting the stars at night.

"Thank you." A lump swelled in her throat as Shravya tried not to look into his eyes.

A raw, tender part of her ached at what they can't have again, what will never be the same again.

Her heart clenched, breaking.

The way he talked, the way he smiled with his eyes seeming to shine - it all was so familiar. Just like in the past.

For a moment, she literally felt as if they both crossed the dimensions and acquired the past, again living those beautiful moments.

"You should eat before it gets cold," Shravya said, regaining her composure and occupying a seat only a little away from him.

"Won't you join me?" Zaid, who was just about to begin with his---unexpected---late night meal, stopped to ask her.

Gently, Shravya shook her head."No, not having much of an appetite."

"Okay, then. . . ." His voice quieted as he again took a spoonful, the spicy and bland taste of the soft rice and curd almost seeming to burn on his tongue before slowly melting down to nothing.

Shravya's stomach churns at that sight and she got caught up in agitation - something she couldn't recognise.

It was an unfamiliar and unpleasant sensation.

Suddenly, her attention drifted to his lips, straying over their delicate curves before shifting onto the small piece of rice - an intruder sticking to his cheek.

Zaid was so engrossed that he doesn't notice her inching closer to him.

With a curled knuckle, Shravya brushed that intruder away from his skin. His movements died and his eyes astonished wide, hold tightening around the spoon in his grip as she turned her hand to again clean his cheek with the pads of her fingers instead.

"Next time. . . ." Zaid mumbled as a dazed smile appeared on his mouth. "Please, warn me before doing something like that."

His words and the feeling of surging, undeniable heat upon her own cheeks singed Shravya with a flash of embarrassment. Her mask begins to slip, and the reality of what she did quaver in as she hurriedly retarded her hand back. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Zaid chuckled, hinting with amusement. "I actually enjoyed that tiny interaction your fingers had with my cheek."

The end of his words bought numbness upon her and stillness in the ambience.

"You just ate it. Isme zehar hua toh?"

(What if it's poisoned?)

Out of a sudden, she spoke, abruptly, without thinking, without caring. She didn't know why she said that---maybe to turn the current vigilance to something else.

"You cooked this," Zaid heeded her gazes, stopping at the plate. "Aur tum kisi ke khaane mein zeher milao, yeh tumhari fitraat nahi."

(And poisoning someones' food isn't your nature.)

"Fitraat badal bhi sakti hai."

(A human's personality can change.)

She argued, suddenly inquisitive about his response, not minding where the conversation was heading.

"Hmm. Toh fir muje parwaha nahi," he spoke in a voice as dark as smoke, effortlessly arresting her curious gazes with his, and again taking a spoonful from his meal. "Aisa aant toh bhut khubsurat hoga."

(Hmm. Then, even if it's poisoned and I'm dying after eating this, I don't care. Such end will be so beautiful.)

~12 days and 2 months left.~

~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Scars)

Her soft, warm fingertips traced slowly across the back of Zaid's hand. The touch was very gentle, but its effects were severely odd. Strangely pleasant.

Wherever she touched, he felt his skin begging in need, for more of that unusual aspect of burning which left behind no wounds.

Now, no longer caring about the starry sky, Zaid looked at the woman in his hold, who adorably was staring at his arms which were wrapped around her, keeping her rigid, sitting between his legs.

Gaze at the sky - that's what they were supposed to do and that's what they were doing but some moments ago.

The sky and the stars no longer carried their vigilance.

Shravya was peering at his arm and Zaid was eyeing her movements as she ran the tips of her fingers upon his skin, letting goosebumps rise as far as her touch went.

Struggling to not mind the teasing her fingers were doing with him, Zaid looked back at the sky - the dark blanket that seemed too useless to cover anything because of being punctured by millions of tiny holes---called stars.

He waited to see if she would speak, but she sat silent as before. He could feel her eyes on his skin, the mythical freight of her gaze pulling an electric current to pass through his frame - the same response his body had always conveyed and he had always felt with her being closer.

Tugging her body nigher, Zaid put his chin upon her shoulder, consenting his senses to get lost in the imaginary mist of her fragrance.

A bizarre heftiness pulled him under, seductively restraining him, trickily whispering lascivious and destructive promises with demanding something in return - her.

"Your chest." Her voice yanked his awareness and he glanced at her, hoisting his chin away from her shoulder to face her properly.

A tiny, ghostly frown formed on her features as she examined his chest which along with the numerous scars, was peeking through his half-buttoned black shirt. "Why is it covered with so many scars?"

Suddenly, at the mention of those scars, vigor detonated within him from the pitch-black oblivion as some unknown rage festered stronger than any emotion - he was feeling furious, without even knowing the reason.

"They are old." An alienated look greeted her when he again peeked at the sky before returning his gaze to her. "Very old."

It wasn't the answer to her question neither it was the reply she was hoping to hear.

"Some of them look fresh."

Nevertheless, she continued, her fingertips unknowingly adapting submission on the skin of his chest, slowly caressing his scars.

"Did you do this to...yourself?"

Unexpectedly, along with that abrupt question, horror blended with some other emotions in her hazel eyes.

Zaid stopped breathing for some incomprehensible reasons before letting out a sigh.

"No."

How much of a truth it was? - He couldn't afford to answer.

Shravya blinked incredulously.

Then, who could it be? - she wanted to ask, fully knowing no one could do that to him unless he himself allowed them.

"There is a myth saying that wishing on a falling star, makes the wish come true."

Intentionally or not, he proficiently diverted her focus off that topic, bringing her to look at him as he went on.

"I don't know if it's true or not, but if now or some other day we happened to see a shooting star, I want to make a wish."

Catching her gaping at him with full interest, he chuckled and planted a kiss on her forehead, the contact too fragile to last stronger than the warmth his usually blank eyes held.

"I want to be loved before sleeping forever."

A wry smile draped in solemn stripped itself on his lips, expressing nothing but his melancholic hopes as he stared at the sky with longing.

"Honestly, I think this is hopelessness. I mean, if a dying star could grant wishes then before anyone's, it would have fulfilled its own wish - the wish of never falling and dying."

His coal-black orbs reflected a void, an abandoned dark sky, yearning for a companion - a moon that could light up its darkness while it also accepts all the phases of its little mate, including the half and incomplete ones.

Loved?

Shravya's features etched with worry and the intensity of her gaze magnified as it skillfully slipped down his face, chasing the hopes residing on his features before finally settling down on his lips.

~3 days and 2 months left.~

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Apno se kya ruthna (づ￣ ³￣)づ