The Hate Pact | Pact Series #1

• 19 •

I miss the girl I was.

So, when I felt unfamiliar arms wrapping around me, I couldn't help but drown in the deepest pits of my never-ending loop of misery. When he softly caressed my hair, tears etched out of my lashes, I broke down into violent sobs. I cried, not because I was sad, I cried because I was unable to do anything. I cried because my anger was sustaining its limits, I cried because my vexation boiled inside my system and found its way through my eyes.

Even though broken, humiliated and tortured, I'm a woman after all. I miss being in the safe canopy of my father's embrace. So, when I received a little amount of affection after such a long time, I collapsed.

I fell lax.

It's true when my father once remarked, there's a thin line between love and hate.

For a moment, I forgot I hate that man. I abhor his family. I forgot that being vulnerable in front of him should be the last of the things in my checklist. If anything, we've only held hands for a single goal - the destruction of Caelus and giving justice to all the victims.

His sister.

Vamika Arora might not be the perpetrator they're showing off to be. They're playing a game too twisted to make her the scapegoat.

Pulling a new pair of comfy clothes, I went out of the bath area and stepped into the living room only to end up cleaning every last inch of the shards of glass scattered everywhere. Kai stretched on his little plush cushion and went to sleep, while I wiped every corner of the room.

By chance, I stepped on the television remote and the soft symphony of some old hindi song music started as if on cue. Oh that man loves music and art, he's everything one can imagine when you think of beautiful melodies and soulful art pieces- peaceful, soft, calming.

Tu Meri Neendon Mein Sota Hai
Tu Mere Ashqon Mein Rota Hai

It has become my habit since my mother's passing, cleaning everything, every nook and cranny, I find it extremely annoying if I find as much as a little speck of dust. Somehow, it helps me give peace of mind.

Sargoshi Si Hai Khayaalon Mein
Tu Na Ho, Phir Bhi Tu Hota Hai

In the process, the sketch book of my esteemed partner fell below and I couldn't help but sneak a peak at his designs.

Pretty. Extravagant.

Hai Silaa Tu Mere Dard Ka
Mere Dil Ki Duaayein Hain..

There was the design of a woman wearing a chic royal blue floor length dress with intricate carvings of beads and pearls on the border. In the corner it read 'to my little girl'.

Teri Galliyan.. Galiyan Teri Galiyan..
Mujh Ko Bhaavein Galiyaan Teri Galliyaan

Curiosity struck my mind as I flipped the pages only to find more designs, the last one had me on a chokehold - a woman carried a dark red saree and a platinum band was on her ring finger, it was drawn as if to purposely reveal the ring on her finger but the most striking thing was not the dress, it was the background.

Kaisa Hai Rishta Tera-Mera
Be-Chehra Phir Bhi Kitna Gehra

For a fashion designer, what matters is the design of the dress but this man etched something different, as if he was making a painting. The background was full of orangish flames as if portraying that the woman is walking through fire.

Fire.

I closed my eyes for a moment to not let any unusual thoughts or memories sink in. I refrain from losing my mind at a simple portrait.