And Because Love Battles

A L L U R E

But what I forgot or didn't understand at that time, is that watching a scene reveal itself on the screen is always different from what we read in the books. What I felt reading the book was not what I was seeing on the screen. And I wanted that. I wanted to feel what Allie and Noah were feeling. More precisely I wanted to feel that with Shravan.

Shravan who was sitting on his chair, shoulders stiff. Is this the reason he didn't want to watch the film with me? Maybe because he knew me so well and the weird ideas I get while watching movies that he decided to put some physical distance between us.

“Shravan,” I sighed, “I,”

Shravan shook his head, “Whatever you want to say, stop right there. If you are done watching the film, you can,” and that's when I noticed, he could watch the reflection of the TV screen on the glass window in front of him. He understood immediately what I was about to ask.

“But, you didn't even listen to me.” I huffed.

He dismissed me, “I don't need to.”

Maybe it was my teenage hormones, or maybe it was because Shravan never denied me anything, I first felt dejected which turned into anger. I switched off the television and threw a cushion in his direction. “Fine. I'll ask someone else. It's not that you are the only one who could,” and I never got to finish that sentence.

Just like now, I didn't get to finish my angry outburst, when Shravan thundered, “I was having fun? Always ready to jump to conclusions, always judging people without asking or knowing their side of the story.” locking me in his enraged eyes, “ You knew, when you made a fool of me that if I ever cared about anyone in my life, it was you. I had to stab my heart and kill my soul, Suman, I had to die a thousand deaths, had to mourn my every breath, to forget what you did to me.” He laughed a bitter laugh, “And you know what the funniest part is? I still close my eyes every night and I still see you betraying me.”

Shravan was standing so close to me that the tip of his shiny loafers was touching the tip of my shoes. Standing on the three-inch heels I barely reach his shoulders. He took in my face, just like he did so many years ago, “I still close my eyes, and see you looking at me just like you did that night.” He slowly stepped forward compelling me to take one behind, “telling me,— no, baiting me, that you would ask someone else,” He snarled, “my biggest fear— someone else would take you away from me — playing with words, playing with my emotions,” his another menacing step made me realise I was already standing by the wall.

One side of my hips burned as he rested his hand on it, as he palmed my neck with his other hand — a slight tilt from my head and I could meet his lips, the same magnificent lips that branded me for life the moment they had touched mine all those years ago. Fierce, dominating, all-consuming yet profound. One provocation and how Shravan had exploded that night — how he unleashed all his locked emotions.

It seemed he remembered that night too, our first kiss, our first touch. No, we simply kissed that night, nothing more — nothing less. But the current we felt so many years ago still sang in our veins. For that particular moment, I forgot what he had done, how he left without wanting to know anything. All I needed was what I was craving for maybe millennia.

One touch.

And he understood immediately. Shravan's expression changed from fury to something unreadable as though he was really seeing me, for the first time after so many years. The hand around my neck slowly came to rest on my cheek. His calloused thumb caressed the soft skin like he was trying to memorise the texture of my skin — and I couldn't look away from him.