Love Always | ✓

we are twenty five

Virat's unwavering grip on her hand proved how he was always going to love this girl, and protect her. No matter what.

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VIRAT WAS EIGHTEEN YEARS, one month and twenty four days old when he realized love was actually endurance. Patience. Perseverance. Misha's love had taught him. It had been over a year since their break up, and he had always died to know, what actually went wrong in their relationship?

When he read the letter she had given to him during the new year, he felt his heart was in eternal agony. She was hurt to the point that she had started to call her worthless, and he had no idea how to make her understand she was everything he loved.

It didn't even take him a moment to rush towards her house. He greeted Misha's mother with a smile, and she didn't even bother stopping him because she knew he was all her daughter needed that moment. His hands were shaking while he was standing at the door, but he knocked anyway. Misha was on the bed, silently weeping when Virat entered her room. Seeing her cry made his heart bleed; he had no idea where to begin from.

The silence in the room - to say the least - was agonizing. It was as if Virat and Misha were stone figures, the aftermath of Medusa's glare. Virat leaned closer to Misha, inhaling her death scent, and tasting her tears. He engulfed her in his arms, rocking her back and forth. "Why didn't you tell me, Mish?"

"How was I supposed to tell you, Virat?" she sobbed against his chest, and he saw how her goddamn beautiful eyes were blurred in tears. "On the phone? Oh hey, Virat. I went to this party because I was bored. And Rishabh, do you remember him? Yeah that guy I slapped in ninth grade; he just raped me."

"Shut up," he muttered, closing his eyes. He couldn't stop playing the stills in front of his eyes. The pain she had to go through; all for nothing. Just because an asshole couldn't stand rejection.

"I'm sorry for ruining us," she told him, eyes downcast as she wiped away her tears using her over-sized t-shirt's sleeve.

"We aren't ruined, okay? I still love you for God's sake. A Rishabh cannot change my feelings for you, Mish. Nothing matters more than you." Virat replied, slightly in anger and exasperation.

"B-but Virat, you deserve so much more. How can still love me in spite of all this?" she asked him, clawing at her chest. It was so hard for her not to break down again.

"Because... Mish, I don't love you in spite of everything you are," he replied, shaking his head. "In fact, I love you for everything you are."

Those words melted her heart. She knew the man in front of her was painfully in love with her. But it was love, and love was the genesis of their future.

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VIRAT WASN'T SURE, if he was still in love with Misha because Misha wasn't there, and he couldn't say he was in love with the figments of hers that flipped through his head or he was in love with a woman who had left him.

There was not a single moment, when Virat had not missed Misha. Loving her was probably inexplicable. He missed every habit of hers - her laughs, how it would move every fibre of his being. How her hands would perfectly fit into his, as though they've been touched before; clasped and held in his before his own. He knew those hands never deserved to go through all the anger and pain, they've gone through.