post script.

twelve

12
A RUNAWAY BRIDE

May

1 a.m.

Abhishek felt his gut twist in anxiety as he looked at a soundly sleeping Aastha. Her hair sprawled on the pillow, arms spread. He didn't know why he suddenly woke up. But he couldn't complain, because he could take in the comfort of just being beside her. Soaking in the love she radiated, soothing every wound that hurt.

A ray of moonshine crept from the gaps in the blinds, dimly illuminating her already beautiful face. He couldn't help but gaze at her, couldn't help but be drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

Giving into his desire to be simply closer to her, Abhishek intertwined their palms, feeling a surge of warmth in him. And suddenly, he felt a sense of euphoria, a tranquility take over him, heart at peace after many sleepless nights.

In no time, Abhishek had dozed off. Aastha is here.

_____

next day

As the hour hand struck the number six, Aastha's eyes opened, as if on cue. She blinked, trying to adjust to the bright surrounding, sitting up straight. It seemed like any other morning.

Except it wasn't.

Her husband was right beside her, clinging onto her hand, sleeping peacefully. She gasped, pulling away her hand, making him stir in his sleep. Flashbacks of the previous night struck her and she felt her heart race, heat rushing to her cheeks.

"Oh God," her voice was raspy and low as she got out of bed, trying to make sense of the happenings of last night. "I should go, I should go," she muttered, sharply inhaling. But that was the last thing Aastha wanted. She somehow wanted to stay, wanted him to hold her hand not today...forever. She tried to calm her racing nerves, trying to wiggle her hand away from him. But his grasp on her was tight, as if he was scared to let go. "Abhay...Abhay," she whispered weakly, attempting to pull her hand away.

Abhishek stirred in his sleep, his grip on her loosening unknowingly. Aastha took the chance, getting out of bed. She scanned the entire room, memories of the previous night flashing in front of her eyes. She tiptoed away, slowly, steadily, opening the door ever so slightly. But as she left, Aastha felt like she was leaving her entire world, again.

She exhaled softly, making her way to Nikita's and her shared room. She was worried, concerned about what excuse would she craft to tell her. But before she could think of something, she was distracted by a loud, audible gasp. Her eyes widened in horror and she shut her eyes, turning to look who gasped.

"Oh no way," Aastha immediately groaned as she saw a taller boy, clasping his palms on his mouth, pupils dilated animatedly. None other than the prince of ict himself. "Shubi, no,"

"Aastha," he started, "leaving Sharma's room,"

"Shubi, NO," Aastha gasped out. "Go back to bed!" She instructed him as if he were a little schoolgoing boy. He shook his head, completely shocked.

"Aastha, this is serious, were you, did you, I mean," Shubman was stuttering; struggling to grasp the entire situation when they heard a loud yawn.