🎶 Us - James Bay
Published on 04.02.2023
❝ can we make it better?
'cause im losing hope.
tell me how to be in this world,
tell me how to breathe in and feel no hurt. ❞
🥀
The mind was a tricky place to be in and yet Inaaya found the most comfort in it. She spent the rest of the day in her own head, too drained to even look at anyone or talk to them. Her heart beat in faint, dull beats as his grief stricken face kept flashing in front of his eyes, making anguish to coil around her like an invisible rope. She waited for everyone to leave so she could approach Ayansh.
She didn't intend to hurt him, especially not by making him feel as if he was the problem because he wasn't. It was her. And she didn't know how could she explain her reactions to Ayansh when she didn't understand it herself. It was an impulse, like her body and mind working on instincts rather than rationality and logics. At this point, she didn't even understand what was she running away from, she just did.
Inaaya went to the fourth floor and disappointment greeted her when she found the floor empty, Ayansh's office locked. She gritted her teeth and made her way to the elevator. She had messaged him earlier that she needed to talk to him but it seemed he didn't share her sentiments and honestly, she couldn't blame him for that. The elevator chimed as it opened on the floor above, his penthouse ahead.
She pressed the doorbell and waited for a response. The door opened after a few seconds to reveal Ayansh with his tie loosened, shirt half untucked from his pants and hair tousled. Inaaya raked an eye over his appearance before meeting his gaze back.
"I want to talk to you," she said in a clipped tone.
"And I don't." He responded nonchalantly.
Inaaya sighed. "You're mad at me."
"I'm not."
Her gaze hardened. "You're mad at me," she repeated more assertively.
"I'm not, Inaaya!" He snapped and instantly regretted, clenching and unclenching his fists as she watched him in distraught. "I'm not mad at you," his voice shook slightly and she swallowed inaudibly. "I'm just," he paused and breathed in. "I'm just frustrated. At myself." He murmured and then, chuckled making her forehead crease. "I wish I could be mad at you. It would've been so much easier then."
She looked away, behind him, another fresh pang of pain pricking at her heart. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.
Ayansh pinched the bridge of his nose. "Come inside."
Without any protest, she walked in and he closed the door before falling behind her. She stood awkwardly after a few steps and he quietly shook his head before bringing a chair and asking her to sit down. She followed.
"Aren't you going to sit?" She asked when she found him standing in front of her and she would be lying if she said she didn't feel a little intimidated by that.
"I don't want to." He replied casually and crossed his arms, tilting his face to a side and looking at her with an empty emotion.
"I had messaged you." She said, fidgeting with her fingers, her tone carrying a hint of accusation.
"I saw it."
She clasped her hands and looked at them, murmuring softly. "You didn't wait for me upstairs."
There was a moment of silence before he answered.
"Since the time I've been here, all I've done is wait for you, Inaaya."
Her head snapped up at that retort, her heart making a lunge, her face betraying her as a myraid of emotions paint it.
His eyes, deep and profound bore into hers and he adds, "I would wait for you an eternity without any complaints if that's what you want." His voice cracked as he said the next few words and she felt her heart break a little at that. "But the thing is Inaaya, I don't know what you want."
She remained silent for she had no coherent response or explanation to that. She too, just like him, felt helpless.
His shoulders slumped defeatedly and he stepped back, sitting on the arm of the couch and dropping his head low. "I'm not going to force you to trust me," he said slowly and she gazed at him with guilt brimming in her eyes. "I'm not going to force you to give me a chance because that would be extremely selfish of me. Take as much time as you want but- but don't do this," he gasped as a sob left his lips, covering his face with his palms and taking in a shaky breath.
"Ayansh," her voice was a cry of help or maybe helplessness. "It's not that- "
"Inaaya," he looked up at her with glazed vision. "What do you want? Because I don't think I can take this anymore," he whispered quietly, "being treated as per convenience. You can't keep doing this. Sometimes, I'm your boss, sometimes you act as if you hold rights over me and truthfully, you do but sometimes," a lone tear slips from his eye, "but sometimes I'm a nobody to you. What am I doing wrong?" He inquires dispiritedly, his voice sad and his eyes gloomy.
She shook his head as she sniffled, her hands gripping her knees, her eyes fixated on the floor. "You aren't," she says hoarsely, her voice barely a murmur, "it's not you. It's me, I'm the problem."
"Then tell me how to fix it," he retorts back. "Stop acting as if you've to deal with everything on your own. I'm there for you, and what happened today?" He raises an accusatory brow. "Out of everything, you really thought resigning is the best option? You don't get to take decisions for me, for us. This was our problem. I kept asking you, kept trying to talk to you and all you did was ignore and then, the one time you decide to talk it's because you want to resign?" The brashness of his words makes her flinch and grip her knees tight, her eyes refusing to meet his. "And you didn't even tell me about Alex? Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Suffer all alone when so much of this could've been avoided?"
She knew he was right, she knew it before he even said that but the urge to end it for once and for all, the urge to escape was so strong that it practically controlled her.
"When did Inaaya Rai start to give up so easily?" He asks and the question sounds like a mock to her, hitting her trigger spot. "Someone who doesn't think twice to take a stand for others is now deciding to step back when it comes to herself?"
Her head snaps up at him, her hurt eyes glaring at him.
Ayansh stays unfazed and crosses his arms above his torso. "I really need to know," he says unaffectedly. "Because this was the most ridiculous decision you've ever taken."
"Stop keeping expectations from me." The words fall off her lips before she could even think twice, her defenses getting activated.
He blinks, surprised. "Expecting yourself to behave like you is now an expectation?" He counters back and she feels herself at a loss of words. She wished she could understand this, this urgency, this irresistible impulse which demanded her to succumb, this despair that kept pulling her down, this hopelessness that seemed to be consuming her inch by inch.
Moisture collect at the seam of her eyes as she looks at him while he waits for an answer. Taking an uneven breath, she tries to speak. "I don't know," she whispers brokenly and stands up abruptly, turning around and pressing her palms on the edge of the table like her voice if raised even slightly higher would pave a way for unrestrained tears and sniffles. "It's burdening. One day, I feel I'm doing fine, I'm better than I've ever been and then, something happens and I come spiralling down, feeling miserable than ever. I didn't- I didn't lie when I said their words didn't affect me but then," she tries to blink back the tears which were now falling heedlessly, trailing down her cheeks as her voice choked. "Then, the words about you, us, me affected me so much that I just wanted to run," she sighs, dropping her head.
Ayansh listened to her intently, at some points he understood her dilemma and conflict but at some points, he just felt utterly helpless, like they were stuck in the middle of a sea with nothing to hold onto.
Inaaya turns and leans her body against the table, the distance separating them and yet their eyes carrying the same emotion, the need to bridge it but not knowing how. "And then there's you," melancholy fills the room. "You hold me in such high regard that I don't understand what should I do of it. You look at me as if I'm the solution to every problem that could possibly exist while I'm here struggling to find my way around the simplest of things. It's draining, Ayansh," her voice croaks and she sniffs softly.
He caresses her with his soft gaze. "Because you're," he admits sincerely. "You're the reason I'm here. You inspire me, you give me strength and even though you find it hard to believe, it's the truth."
She makes a tsk sound of annoyance. "You don't get it Ayansh," she doesn't try to mask away the desperation and fragility that dripped from her tone. "All you ask for is a chance and I can't even give that you because I'm too scared. I saw that day, the way you looked at me in your office, as if you couldn't believe that I'm actually talking to you, behaving as if everything is normal while you looked torn and lost and miserable. It's as if you try to find courage through me, wonder how am I even able to do it and then, the next moment I do something that disappoints you. Even that day when you came to return the hoodie, I unintentionally ended up hurting you."
Tears streamed down the corner of her eyes and her lips wobbled as she cried silently, standing still, her body slouched forward, her eyes on the floor below, staring into oblivion. "It's like you look at me with hope, as if I might save you and I don't know why you keep doing it because how could a person who's herself drowning save another one?" The air carries the desolated question whispered so slowly to him.
Ayansh steps towards her, hesitantly at first and then, determinedly as she sniffled softly to herself. His hands trembled as they reached out towards her, his fingers gently grazing her jaw line, her breath getting hitched when his calloused fingers rose higher and tenderly cupped her face.
Inaaya didn't look up but she didn't protest as well. The pad of his thumb stroked across her cheek to wipe the tears and she hiccuped due to the surreal amount of feelings surmounting within her.
"Hey," he calls out tenderly, a miniscule smile stretching across his face as he remembers something.
She flutters her eyes close and pressed her cheek more into the cradle of his palms and for a moment or two, she felt as she had returned home after a long day.
His heart did a sigh of relief at that tiny action, his hands still holding her face delicately, letting them linger upon her skin a little more. "You don't have to save me," he says slowly, earnestly. "You don't have to help me while you keep falling apart. But maybe all you've to do is extend a helping hand and hope you end up picking yourself as well. Maybe all you've to do is take that step and hope the other person catches you before you fall."
She froze.
The blood in her veins chilling, her body goiing rigid, the words making her heart thump so loudly against her ribcage that she feared it might stop beating at a point.
"How to save others when you're drowning yourself? How to help others when you aren't able to help yourself? But maybe all you need to do is extend a helping hand and hope you end up helping yourself as well."
Inaaya felt she was paralysed. Her body refused to move an inch, her brain still trying to come in terms with the realisation that hit her like a storm. It couldn't be a coincidence, can it be? What were the odds of life turning out in this manner?
She stayed where she saw, her eyes still closed. "Who told you this?" She murmured, her voice almost inaudible.
"Sorry?" He didn't catch upon her question.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped back, escaping the warmth of his hands, leaving him confounded over her sudden reaction. "Who told you that?"
His forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. "What?" He mouths.
"Whatever you said now!" She whisper yells, feeling mildly impatient. "Maybe all you've to do is extend a helping hand and hope you end up picking yourself as well."
"Nobody," he replies sceptically and her head thuds against her ribcage. "I read it in a diary."
Her heart stalls, her eyes wells up, the hair on her skin straighten, her throat feels clogged.
"What's- what's going on?" He asks, his brain trying to connect the puzzle yet being unable to complete it.
"You've it," she murmurs to herself. "It's with you," her voice lying somewhere between a gasp and a sob. "It was you," her lips quivered.
The realisation starts to sink within him, almost rattling him up, making him go numb from outside and having an uproar from the inside. He gazed at her profoundly and noticed how oblivious he had been to the glimpses and hint that had so often surfaced when they were together.
Miracles do exist.
Inaaya's trembling hand cups her mouth as she finds it hard to breathe. She slips onto the chair behind for she had no strength to keep standing on her feet. She looked up at him who looked as startled as her if not more. "There will come a moment which will sweep you off your feet and make you feel grateful for surviving, everything you've endured till that moment will hurt you less because that moment will fill you with emotions that you've never felt before, happiness that you didn't even think was ever yours to belong." She spoke softly, repeating the words that he had once told her and his eyes tear up.
A smile, so beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time cracks on his lips as he remembers the moment vividly. With small, staggering steps he walks upto her and kneels down in front, looking at her as she deserved to be looked at, like she was his miracle. He grips the edge of her chair and she bites her quivering lip, the tears never stopping. "You'll meet someone who'll take away your breath in the most exhilarating way possible, colour you with feelings that make you forget all your suffering. That person, that moment of realisation will be your miracle and it's beautiful and it's worth it."
A painful whimper falls past her lips and she grips her knees. His hands gently engulfs hers, her tears falling on his upturned palm. "You're worth it," he adds, his heart unable to contain the love he carried for her.
No wonder he didn't hesitate to say those words to her that day. No wonder he didn't feel selfish enough to not share something that was so personal to him with an absolute stranger. No wonder he felt as if they belonged to the moment because they did. It always belonged to them, to her. It was always her and he couldn't thank life enough for bestowing him with his miracle in the form of her.
She stopped weeping when another realisation hit her. This was bad, terrible even. It shouldn't have happened. The broader picture scared her, threatened her and her eyes snapped to him and she pulled away her hands immediately like she felt repulsed. She moved her chair back and stood up raking a hand through her disheveled hair.
"Inaaya- "
"Where's my diary?" She asks in urgency, taking another step away from him, ignoring the baffled and crestfallen look he carried still being dropped on his knees.
Ayansh stood up and when he took a step forward, she flinched, a pang of hurt hitting him, making his heart drop to his stomach. "What's wrong?"
"I need to leave." She says instead like she wasn't even present there, so convoluted and disorganised. "Just- just give me my diary," she says erratically.
"Inaaya?"
"Ayansh!" She raises her voice, catching him off guard. "Can't you understand that I've to leave? Just give my fucking diary."
His hazel eyes glistening with hurt harden. This was getting out of hand, he wasn't able to understand her anymore and it was breaking him apart slowly, steadily. "Okay," he says in a small voice before taking long strides towards his room and taking out the diary from the drawer.
His hands trail over the cover as memories and past crash and collide, raining over him, drenching him, making him chuckle at the number of letters he had written in the same diary addressing the stranger whilst talking about Inaaya and the innumerable times he had lost his way and ended up addressing Inaaya as if he was actually writing to her. Well, turns out that he indeed was. Turns out that he never lost his way miraculously, he just ended up walking on the right one, his heart taking control.
All the while, he was conflicted about his feelings regarding the stranger, kept questioning himself why was he so curious about her, hated himself of thinking about her when he was with Inaaya, felt as if he was cheating on Inaaya only to find that they were never different. It was always her. His Inaaya. Different versions but still her and he fell for all of it.
But then, he feels an agonizing pull tugging at his heart at the way she behaved few minutes ago. The way her guards were suddenly up, the way she felt repulsed by his closeness, he wanted to cry. He felt fatigued, physically and emotionally. He had kept her as a priority for so long that he forgot to tend to his own needs and now, everything came hitting to him, all at once, wanting to shred him in pieces and for a moment, he felt that being shattered would be better than being in this labyrinth on never ending pain that comes after a mirage of small lived joy.
Taking a deep breath to get a grip over his thoughts and emotions and not let the vulnerable moment get better of him, he blinked multiple times to get rid of the moisture blurring his vision. He looked at the diary with fondness and pressed his forehead against it.
"Thank you," he breathes out. "Thank you for being there even when I didn't deserve you," he whispers softly. "Thank you for guiding me in my hardest times." He swallows. "And- and I love you," he croaks, his voice heavy with yearning.
Ayansh walked back to the living room and forwarded the diary to its respectful owner. Inaaya gazed at the forlorn thing, her chest squeezing painfully. With uncertainty in her actions, her trembling hand reached out to take back what belonged to her only to let it slip before she could even grasp it properly.
"Careful," Ayansh murmured, before the diary could hit the floor and handed it over to her.
"Thank you," she muttered, not looking into his inquisitive gaze.
She took another step back.
"Hey! I didn't catch your name."
"What's in a name?"
"Sorry to disappoint you but I'm not a fan of Shakespeare."
He stood rooted at his place, watching her taking small yet significant steps away from him.
"You've so many classics but you don't have Shakespeare."
"Never been a Shakespeare fan."
"Bye." She said in a monotone and turned around, moving out and letting the door fall close behind her, leaving him all alone, taking away the last thing that he possessed of her.
Ayansh was never a fan of Shakespeare and yet this felt nothing less than a tragedy.
***
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