As I slowly opened my eyes, they felt heavy and my head buzzed with confusion. Blinking away the haze, I focused on the stark white ceiling above me. A sharp sting drew my attention to red burn marks on my hands, prompting a whispered "Ah" as I felt the burning sensation course through my body.
"Ah, you're awake," came a voice from my right. I turned my gaze to find Kabir, his expression a mix of relief and exhaustion, evident in the bags under his eyes. With a slow movement, I extended my right hand, the uninjured one, and placed it on his hand. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my hand.
"I'm okay, just a little shaken," I murmured, my voice slightly croaky.
He nodded, but his features soon creased into a frown. "Can you explain why you thought it was wise to run toward the fire-prone area?" His eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I thought I'd lost you."
"I was trying to save Sana from the fire," I whispered, wincing at the sharp pain that shot through me. "But she wasn't in her room. We have to find her," I added slowly.
"Can you focus on me, just this once, and set aside thoughts of my sister?" He whispered, his gaze locked on mine.
"But she's..." I started, trailing off.
A soft humming voice caught my attention, and my eyes widened further, if that was even possible. There sat Sana in a wheelchair, a smile gracing her lips as she looked at me. Beside her, holding the chair, was Raghav, his expression solemn.
"S-Sana?" I croaked out, disbelief coloring my voice.
"It's me, Singh," she replied weakly but with a hint of humor. "Imagine waking up after a week and finding you unconscious," she added, concern evident in her tone.
As I attempted to sit up, Kabir's hand gently but firmly held me down. His expression was a mix of sadness and anger, his eyes reflecting the weight of the situation.
"Why?" I insisted, my stubbornness pushing against his caution.
Kabir glanced towards Sana and Raghav, silently signaling for them to step out of the room. They left without a word, sensing the gravity of the moment.
Turning back to me, Kabir's face scrunched up with emotion. "What do you mean, why? You've been burned, don't you realize?" I started to protest, but he cut me off. "Okay, I know you're strong, but think about me. I'm not," he said with a tremor in his voice.
"I'm sorry," I whispered in return.
"My sister had been in a coma for days, and now you, my love, are here after a fire. I can't handle the constant fear of losing the only people I hold close to my heart. It's unbearable. Imagine how I felt when I received that call from the police, hearing that you were hurt in a fire. It felt like my breath was taken away." His heartfelt words resonated deeply, stirring a mix of emotions within me.
I reached out to touch Kabir's cheek with my unburnt hand, but he stepped back, avoiding my touch. His eyes held a mixture of pain and determination.
"This underworld mess, it belongs to Sana," he began, his voice heavy with sorrow. "I don't want you to get hurt anymore. Please, don't interfere in her affairs from now on. It's my final decision. Let Sana deal with the consequences of her actions; don't get dragged into it, or else..." He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
"Or else what?" I pressed, my voice trembling with uncertainty.
"I'll have to end whatever this is between us," Kabir spoke softly, his gaze filled with sadness as he turned away from me. It was a heartbreaking moment, the weight of his words settling heavily on my heart.
"You wouldn't," I whispered softly, my eyes welling up with tears from both physical pain and the emotional weight of his ultimatum.
"For you, I would," He replied, his gaze fixed on the wall, unable to meet my eyes.
"This is all about you, isn't it? What about what I want?" I challenged, my voice trembling with hurt. "What if I don't want things to end?"
"Then you can keep on with your one-sided affection because I sure as hell won't be fucking reciprocating it," He replied, his voice tinged with sorrow beneath the determination.
I felt a pang in my chest, a mix of sadness and frustration. It was the first time I had heard him use such strong language, and it cut deeper than I had expected.
"Okay," I murmured, taking a deep breath to steady my emotions.
"What do you mean?" His voice carried a mix of surprise and sadness.
"You can end things between us," I said with a determined tone, despite the ache in my heart.
He studied me with an inscrutable expression, his eyes searching mine. "So, you're not going to stop getting involved in Sana's problems?" His question held a tinge of resignation.
"I've known her for much longer than I've loved you," I admitted in a soft whisper, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air.
"Of course, it's her instead of me for you, always," he murmured softly, a hint of disappointment coloring his voice. With that, he turned and silently left the room. As his footsteps faded into the distance, I closed my eyes, tears flowing down my cheeks, a heavy mix of sorrow and regret settling in my heart.
Opening my eyes once more, I gazed out of the window. The sunlight streaming in didn't quite reach me, casting a somber hue in the room. Every day, I felt grateful for another morning, but today, I wished I hadn't awakened. I longed to have stayed asleep forever, avoiding the pain of this moment.
I lay there on the bed, memories of the past week flooding my mind with a bittersweet intensity.
In the cozy kitchen of my home, I stood with a cookbook in hand, looking utterly lost. "Kabir, help! I can't even boil water without burning it."
He chuckled, tying an apron around his waist. "Don't worry. I've got this."
As He gracefully chopped vegetables, I attempted to follow a recipe, but chaos ensued. "Fuck! I think I just mistook salt for sugar."
He glanced over, amusement twinkling in his eyes. "You're in your own kitchen and can't tell your ingredients apart."
I pretended to be offended, shaking my head dramatically. "Come on, not all of us have Remy's culinary skills, you know."
He looked at me with genuine curiosity. "Remy? Who's that?"
"You haven't heard of Remy?" I exclaimed, widening my eyes. "We have to catch up on some classic Disney movies then."
"So, Remy is a character from a movie?" he asked, trying to piece it together.
"Yeah, he's a rat, but a really good cook," I explained.
"Ah, got it," he said, nodding in understanding.
Leaning closer with a mischievous grin, I teased, "So, hypothetically speaking, if I turned into a rat overnight, would you still love me?"
He raised an eyebrow, considering the absurd scenario. "Well, practically speaking, it would be convenient. I could carry you around easily, maybe take you to practice." He paused before adding, "And let's be real, whether you're a rodent or a person, you'd still be the same lovable you."
"Okay, you know you make me go weak, right?" I replied, a smile tugging at my lips.
He smiled back and leaned in, and before I knew it, we were lost in a sweet kiss, his fingers gently tangled in my hair. In that moment, I couldn't help but think that being a rodent might be adorable, but it would definitely ruin moments like these. So, I guess we'll stick to being human for now, huh?
I found myself smiling wistfully at the memories that lingered like fragile echoes. One fleeting week, a mere blink in the vast expanse of time. It's no surprise really; my relationships have always been fleeting, like whispers in the wind. I've never been the most desirable option out there.
"You used to compare my flaws to the crescents of the moon, saying they added depth to my character," I whispered softly, as if hoping the words would reach him somewhere. "Perhaps rushing to help others is a flaw, but is it truly a sin? Even if it is, that's a part of who I am, and you should have embraced it."
My eyes fell upon the burn marks that now adorned my body, each one a reminder of the flames that had scarred me. They marred my skin, creating a mosaic of ugliness that I couldn't bear to look at. This is the harsh reality of my body now, marred by the cruel hands of fate. Kabir, with his gentle soul, deserves someone unblemished, someone who doesn't carry these terrible reminders of deformity.
A bitter laugh escaped me, mingling with the tears that flowed freely. "Perhaps this is for the best," I murmured, a sense of resignation settling over me like a heavy cloak.