The Fierce Flame

07||him

"Will you stop eye rapping me?" I mock her, watching her dragging her eyes from my thigh to meet my eyes.

"Some great philosopher said, you must see the thing which gives you happiness." She chirped like a merry bird, exaggeration on peak.

I slid the drawer of the table, taking out a gun.

"Are you planning to kill yourself? If so then don't, let me marry you and have your children-" I point the nozzle of the gun towards her.

"My jokes are not that bad that you're deciding to kill me." She bits her lips.

The more she rants, the more it pisses me. My finger hovers over the trigger, making her stiff, "Believe me they are very bad, that it forced me to get out my gun and lessen the burden of Earth."

"Such a romantic line." She grits turning to walk away, but stops and once again turn to face me. I put my arms straight, securing my target.

"Hey, stop jerk." She puts her palm before herself, "Everyone are asking for you, that's what I wanted to say." And the next minute, the only distant of her heels clinking against the floor echoes.

I loosen my arm, keeping the gun beside me. My eyes rolled around my room, even after five years, everything still remains the same. Just the walls are unoccupied by her pictures. I still have those photo frames, but in burnt condition.

Just the curtains, bedcover, and carpet changes, rest is the same, yet it's never the same. I see the things, where a layer of haunted memories rested themselves, but the lifeless thing just manages to feel more lifeless, boring colorless and at some time painful to look at. One of my crap reasons to burn of her photo's.

With a sigh escaping my mouth, my fingers reach to close the drawer, but a shiny platinum band, peeks from inside, left abandoned. In the dark, in the cold, pulled away from the world. I pick it up, my thumb sliding against the surface of the metal. A wave of past, crashes against, stirring the images of a beautiful smile, those black orbs and those brown strands.

Loving her made me feel different about myself.

A little soft.

More belonged.

A less monster.

Most important of all, alive.

Her betrayal made me different. Filling with,

Anger. Pain. Remorse.

Made me curse her for making my death heart beat red in pump, give a reason to it, and snatching it way in the cruelest way.

Made me know the difference between being alone and at peace.

I clench the ring, my knuckles turning white. Just a little effort of understanding me, our life would have not turned like this. Wish she had looked from my side, my eyes. This room didn't have felt like a wet marsh, the more I struggled, it felt more pleasure in pulling me inside in its dark shadow.

I know I wronged her. I hide the truth of myself, and lied to her. But, as a payback she played with my image, made me loose my throne. And I am fucking okay with it too. Those were the consequences of my action. I accept it.

But, why let go of my hands?

I take my phone, opening the tracker. The red dot blinks on her house, she lives in Kolkata. My finger tightens against the device. Wish I could just go there and kill her, put all the bullets, watch her dead.

Like that, will I be at peace?

Will I stop burning in the hate I have for her?

Maybe, make me forget her, and hate her less. Since each time her illusion hits me, my inside drowns in hate for her. I don't want to hate her. But every time I try to forget her, I end up hating her more. The love changed itself in something, I even fear touching it. Leave alone knowing it.