[Sequel of Warm Love, hence can't be read as a standalone.]
In the first phase, Reyansh concealed a web of mysteries, but as they stand face to face once more, it's Kiraz who holds the tantalizing secrets waiting to be unveiled. These hidden truths...
Remember from this onwards, I leave you on your choice of reading this book ahead or dropping it(explanation will be given when needed). From the starting of this book, I have said Reyansh hates Kiraz. Which can't be switched of immediately, making it visible like a game of hypocrites. Patience is the key, and judging only happen when you are standing at the end of this book with me.
Love you all ~~
and you all better vote and comment
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|A U T H O R|
The cold, subtle winds welcomed themselves, carrying the whisper of silence within. They danced within the four walls, daring to play hide and seek, and the happy curtains accompanied, fluttering themselves, mingling in an audience-less scene.
The open window, tearing apart the walls, gave the winds an open invitation, to presence themselves in an abandoned room, where the smell of baby powder lingered, and the floor held the strands of red hair.
The wind glided past the table, kissing and teasingly touching the thick book kept on the table. The teasing of the wind to the book made it overboard, and the book, catching the naughty winds, threw its arms open, fluttering its pages. The winds paused themselves, curious and peaked in, at the water-shimmered page, the inking curving, playing a dance with syllables.
There is no difference between a human and the sea,
Between a heart and the sky,
Between you and me.
We know nothing, standing in the unknown. Our minds spread wide over the earth, our hearts standing with open hands, ready to welcome whatever the horizon has to offer.
And you and I, we are both pained souls, longing and yearning for love. The weight of love just leaves us scarred. We are all lovers tried by time, the only place where you and I can truly belong. And these scars, though hidden, our hearts hold them close.
Our hearts resemble the open sky to me.
A dark sky feels empty without any stars. So why don't we treat our scars as stars, without fearing their perceived ugliness?
My darling, I admire a sky filled with stars rather than an empty one, just like my Reyansh.
It was so beautifully written, then why the writer sprinkled water droplets on it. Wind whispered to the book.
The book chuckled, ‘I don't know, I am just a diary. Allowed to just feel the emotion of a human heart.’
Her crimson strands, sway gracefully, gently coaxing her back from her reverie, , breaking the chains of thoughts. Whispering 'no' softly, she turns her gaze towards the playful sea, its waves dancing in joy.
