"Love and romance are not the same. The moment we confuse the two, loads of friendships are at stake."

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Tora's POV

Dark — all-consuming, numbing darkness. They say blinding light, but the darkness was blinding me more than any light ever could—if I could see light someday that is.

As my belly growled and twisted with hunger pangs, I curled up on myself, hugging my arms even tighter. The stench of putrid blood mixed with the stink of sweat didn't bother me anymore. I guess that's how medical graduates get adjusted to the smell of formaldehyde in dissection labs. Our bodies are meant for adjusting, our noses, our eyes, our tongues, everything adjusts itself, but then our organs don't. Like my stomach, which was rumbling loud enough to draw the attention of the guards. And it has been grumbling for what seemed like days.

When you're trapped in the dark, time stops making sense. Day and nights are concepts that keep us going, keep us running towards a goal and destination. But when the purpose of your existence becomes a slow march to your own death, time ceases to be of consequence. It was just a long wait, a wait to see which of my organs failed me first.

My bone dry tongue licked my chapped lips and I could count the cracks and the tangy taste of blood that spilt on my tongue wherever it touched. I was thankful for the darkness because I knew I would have hated to look at myself in the condition I was in. And strangely enough, every hour in the immortal prison reminded me of the room Nikhit had locked me in.

The memories kept flooding back to me, swirling in my head. When I had resurrected him, maybe a part of me still loved him. Not anymore. He was the reason for my suffering. He was the reason all this happened and...

A shuffling noise broke my train of thoughts again. It had been so long that I wondered for a second if I was hallucinating. But the footsteps grew louder and more urgent. And it wasn't a single person. It seemed like a set of footsteps. A few grunts and moans and something banged hard against the grills of my prison cell. The back of a person in a grey hoodie hit the metal bars and crumpled to the floor. He vanished in a shower of flames and ashes.

I could hear a commotion outside like lots of people speaking at the same time.

Was this a rebellion? I cowered in fear, trying to drag my broken body away from the door.

"Got her," a voice screamed. It was familiar, but my hunger addled brain couldn't pinpoint the source. My vision was a blurred mixture of bright light at the end of the darkness and a black silhouette framed by the blinding light. It was as if I was underwater, gasping, and there was a hand reaching in to drag me out from my death. And I was being hauled up, up on my feet.

"Can you walk?" The voice asked urgently.

A gurgle escaped my throat. Maybe I had forgotten to speak.

The figure lifted me up like a rag doll and tossed me over his shoulders. I could see the glimpse of a black hooded face and gleaming gold eyes before he was running— running at superhuman speed, swifter than air, faster than sound. The darkness swirled and whizzed past me, becoming a cacophony of noises, like static from an old radio, and my world plunged into darkness once again. But this time, it was blissful seclusion. It felt safe, this darkness felt like home.

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I woke up to a rough palm brushing the side of my face. It was a calm, soothing touch, and it somehow created ripples in my heart. My right hand rose instinctively and placed itself on the palm, caressing me. It stayed there for a second, holding the hand against me.

"Who?" I knew my lips made the shape, but no sound came from my throat. The hand freed itself from my grip and drew away.

"No," my lips wailed inaudibly as my fingers flailed in the air to grasp at the palm again.

I felt like a newborn and that single touch was the cord of life, giving me breath. And that pulled me out of my comfortable darkness too as I opened my eyes and blinked. There was light straying from somewhere and the golden rays of the light danced on the ceilings and walls, creating beautiful patterns. There was a distinct echo of water dripping and it created a soft melody, like someone hitting the glass bowls of a jaltarang lightly.

Drip...drip...drip...

The sound kept on soothing my soul before a face blocked my view. Piercing blue eyes were staring intently at me through long feminine lashes. But that face was familiar, that same set of pale pink lips and shimmering blue skin with little star-shaped indigo marks dotting the top of his cheeks like freckles.

I had never noticed Mani up close, but seeing him there was almost like a magnet drawing my lips to his. It felt so right, and yet it was so wrong at so many levels. He licked his lips, surprising me. Was he thinking the same thing, too?

Someone cleared their throat a bit too noisily, breaking that little moment.

"She's fine, and all healed now," Mani announced loudly, his head disappearing from my view.

His face was replaced almost immediately by a beautiful set of eyes like two glittering onyx jewels, deep-set and eloquent, adorning a soft cushion the colour of almond kernels. Yes, Mrithun's face was like a cushion I wanted to cuddle. I wanted to rub my soft cheeks against his rough stubble. I craved to reach up and just take his cheeks in my hands and kiss every inch of exposed skin, but a thousand different memories rushed back to me. He didn't want me in the way I wanted him. And after my first disastrous attempt at love, I wasn't exactly ready to rent my entire heart out to something which was unrequited.

A pair of hands were supporting my head, giving me gentle leverage. Mrithun then placed one hand under my back and I threw my arms around his neck, using him as a support to sit up. For a moment, I couldn't breathe as the air rushed into my lungs in a whoosh. I instinctively buried my face in his chest, breathing in the scent of the earth and the stars. And for the briefer of the second, I felt myself drowning, drowning in the proximity of the man I had so longed to hug. And time seemed to stand still as I pressed my face against him, wanting to hold him, to melt into him till we were the same.

"I missed you," he breathed in a hoarse voice.

I could feel warm wetness seep through my dress and touch my back. He drew backwards suddenly, touching his eyes and his cheeks, his eyes widening at the foreign sensation. Perfectly beautiful teardrops were rolling from his eyes without inhibitions as the emotions overflowed.

"What's happening to me?" His lips trembled. "This isn't me. This human form is playing games with my brain and..."

I drowned the rest of his words into my bosom, pulling his face into my embrace, his head resting just beneath my chin. "Shh," I soothed, "It's okay to cry. It's completely normal."

He looked up with his wet gaze, confused like a little boy.

"For ages," he whispered, "For ages, I had roamed the earth in various human forms but never ever did I feel their emotions. I was always the cold, aloof and the distant one, the predator watching from the shadows, waiting to pounce, bidding time. What did you do to me?"

There was a certain complaint in his voice and a trace of accusation. I just kissed his forehead instead, completely forgetting about what happened the last time that I had tried to kiss him. And he sighed, the sigh of satisfaction of a traveller who gets water after being thirsty in the desert for a long time.

"I guess we don't always get a chance to brace ourselves when the emotions hit," I said, kissing the top of his head.

"But when they do, and the emotions are reciprocated, it's then that you know you've found something worth treasuring," Mani voice whispered from somewhere.

In that little moment between us, Mani was forced to be a spectator. And I had never felt as conflicted as I felt then. Mani obviously had more than just an infatuation with me. The chemistry we had was something deeper, something higher than just friendship, but it was not the same that I felt with Mrithun.

Mani complemented me while Mrithun completed me. If Mani was the shore, I would be happy to disappear into. Mrithun was the white foam that danced on the sea of my desires. They were both uniquely important for my survival in the hostile realm and yet they were completely opposite in how my conscience reacted to them. Mani was a safe space while Mrithun was the space into which wanted to scatter myself, never to be traced again.

"You're right," Mrithun sighed softly, nuzzling closer into my chest.

I didn't want to let go yet, so I held him tighter with one hand, tracing the fingers of my other hand on his soft cheeks.

I could stay like that for ages and freeze into stone right there, but the saner part of my brain knew I was missing something, something important.

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