I won't say much, just hope that you guys will like it as much as I enjoyed writing! Inline comments and votes are always welcomed!

"Hello. Passengers of flight 22 bound for London, England. The departure gate has been changed to 30B. Also, there will be a significant departure delay due to inclement weather outside. We should be boarding about an hour. Thank you for your patience."

A tiring sigh left his mouth as the well-rehearsed speech boomed through the space of the Delhi Airport, muffled by the metallic click of professional's shoes walking through the halls, the dragging of the luggage, the hushed voices, the heart wrenching goodbyes and the cries of children.

Shravan Malhotra stood in front of the terminal window, his back facing the rest of the crowd. He stared into the dark brilliance of the night before his gaze shifted to meet his own reflection. It felt strange, almost unsettling for him to recognize the epitome of devastation that stared back at him. It felt like home to him, it equalled to reuniting with a loved one after a lengthy separation.

He had seen those empty eyes stare at his reflection from behind perched glasses, ten years ago. He had looked through this very window with a plastic smile on his face, while his heart mourned for everything that could have been as his father bid him to a safe nest, in order to free him from the tentacles of the past.

His father failed to understand that you could shield a broken person from all the harms in the world, but how do you save them once they are confronted to themselves? How do you provide them sleep when the only thing they can do at night is stare at the ceiling? How do you protect them when life becomes cruel?

He hated airports. He had always hated them and his extreme disliking had nothing to do with the occasional delays or the last minute changes. He hated them because of the waves of people that came along and went.

In the beginning he was left astounded because he couldn't get himself to look away from them and then the more he looked, the more his longing for normalcy, for the most ordinary of families, free of lies and treachery grew.

Over the years, his longing had grown into bitterness, for everything he could never have. No one would tell him to come and keep visiting, no one would shed tears for him and no one would be bothered by his absence.

And now he couldn't bear the sight of them. He felt dragged into the pit of self-pity, he had grown to harbour his whole life. These people, they made him deeply conscious of how lonely he stood in the realm.

He was aware of the fact that he wasn't welcomed in Malhotra Mansion, the only thing he could achieve from there was fake sympathy and frail assurances. He recognized the reproach in his aunt's voice behind the soft edge her voice usually took, the time he was going back to London.

She would most probably breathe a sigh of relief as soon as he passed the threshold of the house, others would simply retrieve to their occupations and go on with their lives, without a care in the world. He was a mere murmur that appeared occasionally, a fleeting thought that crossed the mind when you allowed it to wander. He didn't belong here.

This is why he didn't want anyone to see him off, be it his arrival or his departure, it only meant disturbances in their lives. He wanted to believe that those rare and precious moments, he had spent in the company of his family were real. He wanted to believe that he had people he could call his own, back home. People, he had to return for.

It was a deliberate and futile attempt from his side to deny his bitter reality - he didn't need the constant reminder of him being an outsider. He had been on trial for that, his entire life.

But when hope started to diminish and dreams were reduced to a distant blur, she came into his life as a flicker of light. And then he wasn't alone anymore, he had found a reason to stay, someone to call his own.

She had restored the loneliness of his heart with her warmth and care and he had started to heal. In her companionship, all the fears he had nurtured within him - his fear of separation, of abandonment were erased by the shelter of her arms.

And in return, he had left her to suffocate in solitude.

No matter how much he reprimanded his heart, no matter how much he reasoned himself that the distance would help them in the long run, that the purpose behind his departure was solely her betterment, he couldn't ignore her cries of helplessness.

Their phone conversation became a constant scream in his head. In the beginning, there was steel determination in her voice, but as they spoke he could hear the determination turn into a mere quiver, the sniffles indicating that she was trying to hold back her tears, something she always did and his resolve almost broke to pieces.

He felt his eyes swam with liquid when he remembered her pleading to him, there was a haunting pain in her voice that gnawed at the strings of his heart and the familiar prickling in his chest resurged with a new found vigour and he still didn't know how to sooth it.

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Shravan gazed through the window of the cab in silence and passed his hand over the mist forming on it as streetlights after streetlights passed by.

The first slither of the sun picked over the skyline in brilliant gold and streaks of mighty red. The city was drowned into the subdued quiet of dawn. Only road sweepers and early risers factory workers hurried through the otherwise deserted streets.

He got out of the cab and walked through the small street that led him to his two-storey flat, dragging his luggage behind him. A gentle breeze caressed his face, Oxford's air felt fresh and new.

As soon as he passed the threshold of the door, he wanted nothing but sleep. He didn't even switch on the light, he simply found his way to the bedroom and crashed on his bed, the stress of the day catching up with him as the darkness engulfed him.

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"Sumo..." His hand subconsciously reached out to the far right side of the bed, the otherwise warm and toasty side was left cold and untouched by the other occupant and it disturbed him until his eyes twitched and the sleepy haze lifted from his brain and he remembered.

He had been in a trance like sleep. But even in his state of half-unconsciousness, he had recognized the woman in his dream, that was Sumo - without a doubt, it was a fleeting image, a blur in the distance and yet amidst the faceless crowd he had perceived her like a man in search of water who always ends up colliding with a mirage in the desert.

He put his arm across his eyes, willing his mind to stop conjuring images of them waking up next to each other. Her luscious hair splaying over the pillow, her scent which lingered around him, their hands that lay intertwined together between them, her twinkling laughter as he tickled her and simply the comfort of being by his woman's side - he needed it to stop for the sake of his own sanity.

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"Pushkar?" He questioned, his voice throaty from disuse as he picked up his phone, his eyes still tightly closed.

"Hello Bhaiya?"

He rubbed the back of his hand against his eyes only to peek a look from the curtain less window; dusk had fallen and he had ended hunched up over the dining table, papers and files scattered here and there.

"Are you there?"

"Yes I am listening. He stammered. He had left two days ago without informing anyone and it was the first phone call he had received from any of them.

"Kaise hai aap?" Pushkar asked him.

"I am... I am okay. Phone kyon kiya?" He couldn't help but wonder why Pushkar wasn't berating him straight away like he used to in the past.

"Kyon aapko phone nahi karsakta main?" He said more sharply than he had intended to.

Shaking his head in refusal as if the other could see him, he said, "Nahi, mujhe laga tu nazar hoga mujhse."

"Main naraz nahi hoon, I am only disappointed." He said resignedly.

Shravan had an answer and an apology ready on the tip of his tongue when the latter interrupted him.

"You shouldn't have gone like this... leaving her behind." He completed his sentence, sighing deeply.

He felt his heart brim with emotion as he mentioned her. He had to fight the urge to ask about her well-being and his attention had suddenly shifted to Pushkar's voice to the muffled sounds in the background for something even he wasn't sure about.

"She is a strong woman, she'll handle." He tried to keep his voice as steady as possible.

Pushkar might have heard the uncertainty in his voice because he nearly laughed, "Kise samjhane ki koshish kar rahe hain aap? Mujhe ya aapne aap ko?" Shravan stayed quiet, he wanted to hear some consoling words from his brother, something to give him hope.

"Aapko uski yaad nahi aarahi?" He was now enquiring softly. "And don't lie to me, please."

"I had no intention to lie to you aur waise bhi main uss ke bare main aur jhoot nahi bol sakta." He confessed. A wound seemed to have been scratched afresh.

Love is a vicious poison, if the presence of the beloved completes you in the most significant ways, its absence equals to losing a limb and Shravan Malhotra had learned it the hard way.

Years ago, if he was asked the same question, he wouldn't have hesitated a moment to deny her existence but ten years later his conscience didn't allow him to spread lies at her expanse, even if it meant disclosing all the feelings he harboured for her, he was past hiding them.

"Kabhi kabhi do logon main space bohot zaroori hoti hain..." He thought to himself and then wondered who he was trying to convince Pushkar or himself?

"Kya das saal kaafi nahi hote?" He threw another question at him which made him ponder over the severity of his actions.

"Daas saal kaafi hote to main usse samajhne main itni ghaltiyan nahi karta." He whispered.

"Ghaltiyan kisse nahi hoti Bhai?" Pushkar's voice had raised slightly so. "Aap kab tak apne aap ko saza dete rahenge?" Shravan made no comment, his eyes had moistened.

All his life he had seen his brother walk on a path that had been thorn-strewn and yet he wore his heart on his sleeve. That was the thing with Shravan Malhotra, he was born with the curse of feeling everything so very deeply.

"Pick up the phone and talk to her, I am sure she'll answer." He encouraged him.

"I don't think I can, I wouldn't know how to start." Shravan whispered again, letting out a shuddering breath.

"Aapki Sumo hai wo, aapke beghair bole hi samajh jayegi." He reminded him in a very matter-of-fact tone.

"Hum insaan bohot ahmak hote hai Bhaiya, zuban ki form main humain bohot bari naimat mili hai lekin uska sahi istemal karna hi nahi aata, jo baat karni chahiye wo hum kabhi karte hi nahi ye soch kar ke kehne keliye to puri zindagi paari hai...Iss liye jab zindagi mauka deti hai, to baat karleni chahiye, acchi ho ya buri usse dil main nahi rakhna chahiye."

"Aap kuch kahe ge nahin?" He questioned when Shravan remained silent.

"Tu bara hogaya hai." Shravan's voice was laced with admiration and fondness.

"Well I was always the smartest among the two of us." He teased.

"Shut up and go to sleep." He reprimanded with gentle reproach.

"Bhaiya." He called him out as Shravan was about to cut the line.

"Hmm?"

"Wo thik hai, just come back soon."

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Shravan would often come here and walk along the meandering river. He had never understood why but he was mystified by this place, he had spent hours sitting by the water and just staring into the distance, his eyes unfocused as he surrendered to his troubled thoughts.

His questions about his mother's disappearance had dried up with the flow of time. But in the depth of his heart, he had never ceased wondering the reason behind her abandonment. His eyes had searched for her in the women who walked down the streets, he had sought the flavour of her hand, something his taste buds had long forgotten and more than once he had spotted her through another. Till the day her absence wasn't a raw and open wound anymore but a soft-edged one, the kind that numbed the heart times to times.

"Aaj tak kabhi bhi kisi bhi aurat ne tumhare sath kuch accha nahi kiya?" More than once, Suman Tiwari had reprimanded him and quarrelled with him over his sexist tendencies and he always asked himself why did his brusque manner and cold demeanor towards women bothered her so much?

Was she being supportive towards her gender, like any woman ought to be or was it the guilt churning at her insides? They both had acknowledged the fact that no amount of apologies could fix what had went wrong between them, her rejection, her dismissal of his feelings had scarred his heart forever.

In these last ten years, Shravan Malhotra had felt every possible emotion for Suman Tiwari - from rebellion, rejection, anger, remorse, hate to love - everything.

She had caused so many troubles in his life, so many resounding questions he didn't have any answer for, countless of insecurities and uncertainties and yet his heart, his mind and his soul only seek her.

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Suman was washing dishes at the sink of Tiwari Villa's kitchen. Sleep evaded her since a long time and she needed to busy her mind somewhere to escape from the cage of his thoughts and yet every time she closed her eyes to gain some respite, his face appeared out of nowhere breaking her little by little.

Seven days. She had managed to spend seven days without him and she still wondered how she had went through this ordeal. If her days were filled with work and several occupations, the nights seemed never ending and more than once she found herself gazing at his pictures. She wore his shirt at night, finding comfort in his fading cologne, it gave her heart the assurance of his presence around her.

She turned off the tap when she heard a characteristic knock on the front door of the house. At first, she dismissed it. Her mind was clouded incapable of sustaining rational thoughts so it only seemed natural for him to be in her thoughts and dreams. But then she heard it again.

Three knocks, three times.

Her hands came to grip the corners of the sink. She took in a deep breath, willing her imbecile heart to calm down. She walked quietly till the front door before unlocking it only to be met with dead silence. She passed the threshold of the house and stopped.

A sound, something between a squeak and a gasp escaped her lips as she saw someone standing at the porch of her house. His face remained a shifting shadow in the darkness.

She stayed petrified to the door. She didn't dare to take a step towards him. She didn't dare to move, to blink or breathe even for the fear that he was a mirage shimmering into the distance that would vanish into thin air at the slightest provocation.

And then she blinked. Once, twice and he still stood in front of her. They took steps towards each other until they came to stand face to face. Tears clouded her eyes, making the vision of him blurry.

A trembling hand came to cup the side of his face like she had done it hundred times before and as he leaned in, his eyes glistening with hope, she felt her heart stopping at the confirmation.

She put both her hands to her lips. In a state of disbelief, she staggered back and ran away from there, slamming the door on his face.

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She was dimly aware of him standing behind her and it had nothing to do with the sound of his rhythmic breathing or his cautious steps against the parquet, she didn't need him to announce his arrival. That was the thing between them, they were forever wary of each other.

She hadn't acknowledged his presence in the room, but he knew better, the stiff posture of her shoulders, the unconscious tapping of her foot against the parquet - something she was prone to do when anxious - gave her away the minute he walked in and closed the door behind him.

Suman stood at a standstill between two storms. A part of her wanted to lash out at him, to hit him with all the force she possessed, to pour out all her longing into vicious words. Slamming the door on his face had almost been soothing even though she knew it was irrational and uncalled for. He deserved it though.

And another part of her which was undeniably in love with him had already forgiven him. She couldn't fight it when it came to Shravan Malhotra.

"Sumo." She closed her eyes. "Meri taraf dekhogi bhi nahi?" His voice was soft, almost coaxing and she had to blink several times to fight the mist that formed into her eyes. His voice compelled her to turn around and she hated herself for giving in so easily when it came to him, for being of so weak temperament.

His chest constricted in a bolus of anguish as she walked towards him, her gaze lowered. She had never looked so small and frail before. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had clutched the side of his shirt in a fist, her nails digging deep into her hand and yet her posture gave nothing away as her expression stayed vacant.

Her hand came to clasp the pole of her bed to stop the trembling in her legs. It was the pole that allowed her to stand tall in front of him, otherwise her knees would give up under her the moment she looked at him in the eye.

His own hand came to clasp the opposite pole as he mirrored her position. She knew why he was standing in this way. Subconsciously or otherwise, he lowered down his stance to prove her that they stood as equals. He would never let her feel that she was any less than him despite her emotional and physical frailties.

"How long have you been staying here?" He asked breaking the hush that had fallen over the two of them.

"Last week." She replied in a low voice.

"You didn't thought that I would come back, isn't it?" He questioned.

"Itni jaldi nahi." She told him honestly, she thought that he would make her wait for some time.

In tandem, wounded souls looked up at each other. Sparsely, pensively, they stole glances like strangers would do, to try and memorize the remnants of a face, the back of a head, a retrieving figure.

She dreaded the silence more than anything and when it began to dissolve between them, she took the matter in hand. "You should go home, have some sleep..." She hurried with words as if she wanted to be done with this conversation.

"Tum kuch kehna chahti thi mujhse?" He started to take a step towards her and then stopped himself not knowing if he was allowed to approach her.

"I didn't know you were interested in knowing." She spat defensively.

"I want to know, I need to know." He said decisively.

"Why now?" A flicker of sadness crossed her eyes.

"Tum to janti ho mera dimagh thoda kharab hai." He said and smiled expectantly at her as though waiting for her to retrieve a memory.

Then Suman remembered and she looked up at him, his shoulders seemed hunched as if burdened with an invisible burden. She averted his eyes and looked down at his hands, they had turned red and dry - his skin was sensitive to the cold.

"Main tumse baat karna chahti thi, kuch batana tha tumhe. Lekin hamesha ki tarah bohot dair hogayi..." She said and laughed, sounding apologetic, ashamed.

"For the first time in my life I understood how it felt when the person you trust the most doesn't fight for you." She whispered under her breath. "I was so confident that you would come but you didn't and it's fine, really it's fine."

"Sumo main..."

"Please Shravan, aaj mujhe bolne do." She inhaled sharply.

"I am sorry, Shravan. I am sorry for everything, for the way I treated you in our childhood, for giving up on you so easily and so many times and I am so sorry because I don't know how to fix it." She said, her voice breaking several times.

A pall of shame and grief fell over him as she took the fall for everything that had turned sour between them.

"You promised me that you would always fight for me, for us. Pehli mushkil aayi nahi aur tum bhag gaye, mujhe chod ke chale gaye, kyon?" She whispered quietly, afraid that her voice would crack if she spoke any louder.

Right since their childhood she had clung upon his every word, his every promise, she had the unwavering faith that unlike her, he would never fail her.

Her words hit Shravan like a whiplash. Had his fears, his insecurities finally reached the momentum and succeeded in drifting her away from him?

"Main tumhare liye puri duniya se lad sakta hoon, aapne aap se ladsakta hoon, but Sumo I don't have it in me to fight with you anymore." He could feel his heart in his throat as she listened to him with bated breath.

"In my attempts to get back at you, I have made so many mistakes, there is so many things that I regret." He breathed heavily, regret marring his voice.

"The way I behaved with you, the way I forced you into marrying me..."

"Why did you just say? You forced me?" She almost screamed, her throat closing up as she took a step towards him.

"This is what it is to you, a forced marriage?" She questioned again, the tears she had so stubbornly kept at bay, flowing silently.

"That's not what I meant-."

"Don't you dare to use that word for me ever again! Mene apni marzi se wo papers sign kiye the, If I wanted to, I could have walked out from there aur tum mujhe rok bhi nahi paate." She spoke through gritted teeth. "Tum aise kaise kehsakte ho? Her voice nearly broke as she spoke.

"Sumo, this is not what I meant. Tum khudh mujhe batao don't you regret the way it happened? We both know how much it affected you." He muttered.

She covered her eyes with her palms, fighting the urge to pull her hair by its roots or slap him across the face. "Tum mujhe kabhi nahi samjho ge, Shravan."

"Because you never talk to me, Sumo! You keep everything so bottled up inside of you that I don't know how to reach out to you!" He shouted, his breathing irregular as he tried to dodge the hurt he felt.

Tears of despair brimmed into her eyes and for few seconds she fell silent, the burden of her actions falling heavily on her small shoulders.

"Yes I was angry and anyone in their right frame of mind would be but at the end of the day it didn't matter, tum mujhse ek bare mandap main shaadi karte ya court ke kisi khali kamre main, it didn't matter...because we would be together." Her words were softer now, almost defeated and it only served as a purpose to heighten his scourge towards himself.

She narrowed her eyes at him and her face twisted into a grimace as she saw realization dawn upon him. She looked on perplexed as he opened and closed his mouth several times, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists.

"You were my new beginning, Shravan, main to bas yahi chahti thi ke hum hamesha saath rahe." She said her throat closing up again. "Tumne mujhse shaadi ki hai apni marzi se na sahi par ki hai, it's not one of your flings that you can wind up leaving a note on my bed side table." Tears of rage stung her eyes.

"Sumo." A choking noise came from his throat. He looked down at the floor, his breath stuck in his throat, his eyes not daring to blink the tears that clouded his vision until his chest screamed for air and his eyes burned to blink.

Then he saw the woman he had spent his whole life loving so reverently and the sinking sensation in his stomach intensified ten folds, was she always this broken or had he been always oblivious to her feelings?

"Mene aur ek wada kiya tha tumse, Sumo. I told you that I would come back for you aur dekho main aagaya na." He stammered while speaking, his voice seemed distant as though it came from a chasm.

"And what's the guarantee that you won't run away at the first given opportunity?" She asked, unable to to hold back her apprehensions."

"I won't be able to go, this time." He assured her, his voice strong with determination.

"I begged you to stay, tumne mujhe akele kardiya Shravan, phir se." Her voice dropped to an ashamed whisper. The girl who had faced so many adversities, who had never stumbled through the dark alleys of life had willingly stripped off her self-esteem for him, could there be more selfless form of love in this world?

He slowly made his way to where she stood and went to wipe her cheek with the pad of his thumb but she swiped his hand away. He took another step, this time towering her. A shaky sigh left her mouth as she stared down at her feet, treacherous tears splashing against her toes. Not even once, daring to look at him while he only had eyes for her.

He could see how desperately she tried to reign in her tears and he wanted to avert his eyes because he felt ashamed and guilty. She shield herself from him, her hold on his shirt becoming tighter as if he was stranger looking at her naked.

He stayed put, broken or whole, he wanted her to bare herself before him. He would embrace every part of her, he would mend the broken ones. He would turn every scar into a smile.

He gently tugged at her arms and she struggled against him, shaking her head furiously, not wanting to break apart. She had swallowed the cries that had built in her throat at the sight of him standing at her doorstep because she knew that once she would start crying, she wouldn't be able to hold back the sobs bubbling back in her throat.

She couldn't bear the thought that he would see it as a weakness, some kind of plea for him to take care of her - the thought that Shravan would pity her crushed her.

"You don't have to hide from me." He said softly as she furtively wiped her face with her hand.

"Chodo mujhe." She murmured trying to get away from him but he was much stronger than her even though he was holding her gently.

"Wohi to main nahi kar sakta, Sumo." Shravan denied with a whisper as he shook his head.

"Don't." She croaked, her voice full of tears. "Don't say things you don't mean, tum phirse bhag jayo ge."

"To tum rok lena." He stated in a gentle but strong voice.

"Rok lena? Matlab tum sach main bhag jayo ge?!" She stared at him in total disbelief before her fury, her exhaustion and her anger from the entire week gained momentum and then she was hitting him with all the force she possessed, raining down punches at his chest while he stood still letting her pour all her anger upon him

"Why did you come back, Shravan?!" She screamed angrily at him, clutching his shirt into tight fists, she was furious with him for abandoning her.

He had to take her by the wrists to stop her from causing any more damage and that was her breaking point. "Tumhe wapis aana hi nahi chahiye tha."

Suman was crying freely now, she had nothing to lose anymore and as much as he hated the sight of her breaking down, as much as the sound of her cries pierced his heart, he let her cry to her heart's content, promising himself that this was the last time. He caressed her hair at the back of her nape as her forehead came to rest against his chest.

When she had sufficiently calmed down and stopped struggling against him, very gently, he took both her hands in his to rest them against his chest. She closed her eyes.

"This is why I had to come back." He revealed and when his voice quavered, he fell silent. She opened her eyes in shock, her cheeks were wet with tears. Under the shirt, she could feel his heartbeat - loud, exuberant, telling her something or rather trying to tell her something.

"Jab tum paas hoti to iss ke ilawa mujhe kuch mehsoos hi nahi hota." He was still holding her hands, rubbing them, trying to provide her some warmth. Her hands were cold from having been in the water for so long.

"Aur jab tum door jaati ho... toh saasein tham jaati hai, dhadkane ruk jati hai." He murmured his eyes never faltering from hers.

Her head snapped up at him as he confessed without hesitation. His glassy eyes looking deep into hers. It wasn't the first time in their lives that they stood so close to each other, so close that they could perceive their reflection in the other's eyes and yet her breath hitched in her throat as she felt the heat of his breath tickle the skin of her face.

He was still hugging her hands to his chest as the weight of his words settled heavily into the air of the room. "I have imagined myself saying these words so many times to you, in so many different scenarios that now that you are here, that we are here.. I don't know how to tell you that I... that I..." He stopped, tripping over his own words.

She waited with bated breath for him to say the words she had craved to hear for so long. But when the silence became unwelcomed, the irony crushed her, the demons of the past had won all over again as they crumbled around him.

"You don't have to do this." She said softly, avoiding his eyes. There was no reproach, no suggestion of blame in the way she had said it. She peeled herself away from his embrace and went to sit on the bed.

He felt a tremendous fear within himself, there was something so final in the way she had said it, like she was too far gone to even care anymore and he was desperate to wipe that expression of indifference that marred her face.

She felt the bed sink in as he sat behind her. She could feel his soft breath on her neck and if he were to bend, his head would have rested on hers but he did not bend.

"When I came back from London, one of the first thing I was told was 'Suman ab wo Suman nahi rahi.'" He had been so consumed by anger, ten years of hurt seeping through his veins like gasoline, that this wasn't even an option for him.

How was he supposed to believe that she changed for the best when he had spent more than a decade reminding himself of her flaws, the countless times she had discarded him as if he was a pebble on the road, only to fall back in love with her, only to come back to her.

"We were away from each other, it was so easy to hate you, to paint you in the colour I wanted to, to deny your existence like you had denied mine..." After taking in a deep breath, he continued. "You have changed so much from the girl I have grown up with to this woman who seems so indifferent at times."

Suman Tiwari had so many facades to herself that he didn't know which one to believe to be real.

At times, she looked at him with so much warmth and fondness in her eyes that he was sure that she felt for him the way he did for her but most of the time she had these constant walls around her which always succeeded in drifting him away. He would often ask himself why Suman Tiwari was the way she was.

"Main aapne aap se ye sawal kahin baar kar chuka hoon par jawab kabhi mila hi nahi, aisa lagta hai jaise main tumhe jaanta hi nahi hoon, Tum ho kon? Sumo ya Suman? Khwab ya haqeequat?" His voice was no more than a whisper and his gaze lowered down as he traced the pattern on the blanket. She knew he was trying to suppress his tears.

If Sumo only cared for her image and how she was perceived in public, Suman had taken him for granted in favour of her self-respect, her family. If the former came to him with the minute details of her life, the latter appeared as untouchable, too far-fetched for him to reach out to her. They had both broken him brick by brick by their constant indifference and they both had tried to fix him in their own ways.

Suman Tiwari was the voice that guided him when he stumbled, the hand that wiped his tears while hers were kept in a secluded chamber of her heart, the arms that gathered him, held him together whenever had had crumbled down under the gamut of emotions he had been carrying since forever.

"You have become independent, self-resilient so much that you have learnt to live by yourself, you have learnt to live without me and no matter how much I try to delude myself into believing that I have moved on, a part of me still stands by the school ledge, I am still the sixteen years old Shravan." He whispered slowly.

Shravan tried to say the next without wavering, "I was so scared to love you and a part of me still is, but I can't walk away from you Sumo, I just can't."

"I can't. I can't live with the fear of you leaving me again." She murmured as she cried silently, the tiredness in her voice never leaving.

It was no longer about the lack of trust which acted as a bridge between them or the miscommunication but the fear that their lives together was a temporary blessing till the moment the curtain of adoration and admiration which blind him would be removed and he would see her in her entirety - how broken, vulnerable and flawed she truly is.

Sighing deeply, he lowered his head until it was buried between the juncture of her neck and her shoulder. "Don't give up on me, please. I need you." He whispered, his voice quavering as his shoulders shook violently, the fear of losing her gripping his heart into its fist.

Something broke inside her as she felt his tears soaking the side of her neck. She had been constantly battling against his fears, his insecurities and more than once she had been defeated by them.

All she had ever wanted from life was love, affection and happiness. Shravan Malhotra was everything she lacked in her life. Everything she had silently prayed for, everything she had never had, so now that he was here, how could she possibly give up on him again?

"Shravan." She turned around to hold the side of his face, gathering his tears in her small palms.

"During the whole wedding with Aditya, I couldn't help but think that it was for the best, that he was the best choice for you." He admitted with a painful sigh. Aditya, he had thought was the better version of himself. Everything he had wished for was served to him on a platter. It was easy for him to mingle into a crowd, to become the centre of attraction. He didn't walk around, carrying the burden of a broken family, of an unrequited love that would be never returned. He wasn't a man spent by his adversities.

"It took someone to hurt you because of my words for me to realize that I could lose you forever. In my anger, in my ego I do things I should have never done, I become someone I never wanted to be..." He stopped, unable to complete the sentence. In his efforts to sooth his burning heart he had become a monster and for each blow she had received by him, he ended falling even more in his own eyes.

"How do I look at you, knowing that I could have prevented it?" He didn't recognize himself anymore Even in his hatred, in his indifference he had held Suman Tiwari high in high regard.

In their childhood that was the trigging factor that made him realize that he had fallen in love with her. He could never be indifferent to her pain. No matter how insignificant or deep the wound was he had always been the one to nurse them.

"Main thak gaya hoon Sumo, mujhe aur nahi bhagna." He said chocking on the words, his eyes wet with tears as he broke down in her arms. When she felt his body tremble with sobs, she knew she had reached her tipping point.

"Shravan, meri taraf dekho." She said gently but with conviction as he shook his head in refusal, his face buried in her neck. "What he did and what you said are two different things, don't compare them. You saved me, you always save me."

"Mene bhi bohot si ghaltiyan ki hain. Aur sabse ghalti ye thi that I never told you how much you mean for me kyon ke tum to Shravan ho, meri haar baat bole hi beghair samajh jaate ho." They had both their own shares of insecurities, of doubts and he needed to be reassured.

"Tumhe kyon lagta hai ke mere badalna asaan tha? Main aaj bhi wahi hoon Shravan, farq itna hai ke main bol nahi pati aur tum chupa nahi sakte." She caressed his back, rubbing soothing circles as he calmed down.

She leaned back to see him and he caged her hand between his, keeping her close to him. "Tumhe andaza hai Shravan, das saalon main kitne din hote hain, kitne ghante hote hain?" She asked her eyes filling up again as she noticed the trembling of his lips.

"Har din mene tumhare intezar main guzara hai ye soch kar ke jab tum wapis aaoge to main tumse wo sab kahon gi jo mene pehle kabhi nahi kaha." She murmured pushing his hair away from his forehead and eyes, he looked at her through the mist forming into them.

She inhaled a long breath as her lips formed for the first time, the words they had never dared to utter out loud for the fear that they would remain words but the distance had strengthened them so when she spoke, her voice didn't shake nor did her hands trembled but she could feel her heart hammering away. "I love you, Shravan."

She saw the transformation before her eyes, his body which had leaned into her was now stiff and his eyes started to display his hidden feelings - disbelief, hope and love, unconditional love. The relief on his face broke her heart.

"Phir se kehna?" He asked, his voice unsure.

Having sensed the uncertainty in his words and eyes, she cradled his face into her palms as if he could break. "I love you, Shravan, mera bhagoda, mera chashmich." She smiled between her tears.

He held her by her waist and brought him closer to him, joining their foreheads together as he laid them on the bed, side by side. "I love you so so much, I am not going and I am not letting go of you either, not now, not ever." He promised her, his voice drained but the words heavy and confident.

Their tears mingled together as they gazed at each other through their wet lashes, they couldn't stop smiling. They were quite the sight to behold with teary eyes, content smiles and hammering heart in their chests as they clung upon one another, relishing in the comfort of the warmth of their beloved, never intending to break apart - they had been separated for too long.

He folded the sleeves of the shirt she had been wearing and when he mouthed a 'better' at her, she only gave him an awkward shrug as an answer, still uncomfortable with the realization of her vulnerability.

"Itni si baat kehne keliye itna time liya tumne, pehle nahi keh sakte the?" She reprimanded gently, caressing the side of his jaw.

"Tum pehle nahi keh sakti thi, ticket ke paise bajh jaate mere." He shook his head at her in dismay which earned him a slap on his chest making him yelp loudly.

"Marti kyon ho?"

"Meri marzi."

"Tumne mere mooh pe darwaza band kyon kiya?" He questioned.

"Isi layak ho tum." She shrugged, fighting the little smile that threatened to take over her face.

"Tumhari wajah se mujhe storeroom se aana para, do baar sar ko laga bhi." He complained to her, his hand going behind his head to feel the bump that had formed.

"Kahan lagi?" Her eyes shone with worry and her hand came to rest upon his, behind his head. He placed her hand where he could feel the swelling and stared at her in awe as she worked her fingers through his soft mane, her eyes drooping once in a while.

He doesn't know what caused him to diminish the little distance between their faces. Was it the exhaustion of the day or the abundant amount of love that glistened in her eyes?

He pressed tender kisses against the skin of her face and her eyes, almost afraid to go further but needing to assure himself that it was real, not another figment of his imagination and when she melted into his embrace, giving herself to him without any second thought, he couldn't stop the tears of gratitude to slip out from the corner of his eyes.

She wiped the stray tear that had trickled down his cheek and in return, he kissed each knuckles of her palms, intertwining their fingers together. "I love you." He murmured, those were the last words she heard before slipping into senselessness.

In the middle of the night when she woke and she woke up several times to ensure herself that he was right beside her, that his warmth wasn't a brittle illusion, she found their hands clamped together in the anxious way children hold onto swings' strings as they soar higher and higher.

And as she closed her eyes and snuggled closer to his chest, it was not fear or apprehension but a sensation of abundant peace that washed over her. They were together and all was right in the world.

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Thoughts ?