Set some point in the future, you can decide when.
Sorry in advance. Gonna hide now, see you at the end.
She used to light up the world when she walked into the room, at least that's what he always said. Everyone teased him for it and eventually he learnt that it was really only his world that got brighter. Nobody could deny that she was someone who was easy to be around, someone who made the atmosphere a little lighter, could make people smile without thought. She was the light of his life; he looked at her like she was the sun and the moon and all the stars too.
Used to. Said. Was.
He hates that he has to think of these things in past tense, hates that he can't say that anymore. Now, when she walks into a room, he feels a little more of him drain away, feels like someone's sucked the energy away. Nobody teases him for that because nobody knows. How is he supposed to tell anybody that he feels physically sick when he looks at her and sees the effect of the way she overworks herself? Of the pain he feels when he sees the fake smile that hides the exhaustion and sadness? To other people, she's still someone who's easy to be around, still someone who can always pull a smile out. It is only him that avoids her, and he avoids her like the plague.
People talk, he hears it. He knows what they think of him, knows that people call him fake and heartless but for once, he doesn't care. They don't know what he feels, they shouldn't judge him. But they do and, though he doesn't care about their words, the fact that even those closest to him believe that he's the bad guy hurts.
What nobody understands is that it's not his fault. It's not like it's her fault either but it certainly isn't his. He doesn't know what happened, doesn't know how but the light in her eyes had dimmed at some point, gotten duller and duller till there wasn't even the tiniest spark. He'd held on, held on as tight as he could but there was less and less to hold onto. As the light went out, she lost herself and, in the end, they both knew he had to let go. She told him to, even as he fought her, she told him to just leave her alone, there was no getting better and she didn't want to hold him back. He told her no, said it would get better, they'd work together and figure it out but she's always been stubborn and he had long since learnt that there were some fights he wouldn't win.
He'd told himself he wouldn't look back as he walked away but he hadn't been able to help it and he'd turn to look at her. She'd given him a small smile as if to say it's okay, you need to go, I'll be fine and that last little glint in her eyes had gone out, taking his light with it.
The image still haunts him, even when almost two years have past. Every night, he sees her face, the sadness, the exhaustion, the strange unexplainable look of relief. He wakes up tangled in his sheets, sweating and panting, lost in the nightmare for an endless moment, trying to find her, go back to her, tell her he's not leaving. And then he realises it was a nightmare and, for a minute, he relaxes, thinks everything is okay. He breathes easy for those precious few seconds and then reality fully catches up to him and he realises it's not okay because he already left and his world comes crashing down around him.
If she could see him in those moments, she'd go into instant panic mode, trying to figure out what was wrong and then she'd scold him, tell him he's being too hard on himself and it's not his fault but she'd hug him and soothe him anyway, hum softly and murmur words of comfort until the tears go away.
He knows exactly what she'd say to him, could hear the words as clearly as if she were sat next to him; it's okay VD, it's not on you, this is all on me. It does nothing to help, only makes him cry harder.
On the rare occasions that he sees her, his chest constricts and he finds it hard to breathe. The air seems to get thicker, heavier, harder to inhale and exhale. It's on those nights that the nightmares are the worst. He sees the what-if's and could-have-been's and he sees them falling apart too. It's like a knife ripping through him, watching the scenes of a happy life play out, letting himself be fooled by it until suddenly he's hearing those same words and they're having the same argument and his world is torn apart again.
He had hoped that, as time passed, it would get better, that the nightmares would decrease in frequency and intensity, that he wouldn't wake up with that crushing weight on his chest but it doesn't. If anything, it seems to get worse over time. The longer he goes without seeing her, the more it hurts. It kills him that he can't go to her, talk to her, let her take away the nightmares like he used to; he has to keep it all to himself because nobody else will understand. She's the only one who would understand, the only one who could possibly know what he's feeling, and he knows that because he knows she felt it too, watched her go through it. It's the vicious ways of the circle of life; he has to suffer this way because she did. He lost her because she lost herself and now he's losing himself too.
He thinks that things might look up when he finds out that she's seeing someone - even if it tears him apart that she's with someone else. Something inside him hopes that the fact that she's got someone will mean that she's at least taking care of herself. His hopes are dashed when he next sees her; the bags under her eyes are deeper and now everyone has noticed that the light is gone, she is no longer the easy comforting presence. His nightmares that night are worse than ever before. Screams rip through the air, so loud his brother and babhi come running into the room, thinking there must be some danger. He thrashes and flails, trying to untangle himself from his sheets so that he can go, get to where he needs to be. When he finally comes to his senses, he sees his brother holding a hand to his eye and his babhi giving him a look filled with sorrow. None of them say anything for a long while; it is only when the door is closing that he speaks, a broken whisper that shatters the silence though it is barely audible. Alia.
The two who had been making their way out of the room stop in their tracks, shocked at hearing the word. It is only two syllables, seemingly insignificant, but it is the first time in years that he's said her name and it catalyses his worst breakdown yet. He doesn't scream but cries silently, tears streaming down his face as he murmurs the same word over and over again. None of them know what he means to say, whether he is calling for her or missing her or pleading for her to comeback, not even Varun himself.
It is in the middle of his breakdown that the phone call comes. Rohit glances at the phone and sees it's an unsaved number so doesn't answer. Varun follows his brother's gaze and sees the number on the screen, his head clearing slightly as he recognises it. 'Answer it.' he mutters.
'Varun, it's an unknown number, it's probably not-'
'Just answer it.' he repeats, knowing full well who's on the other end of the line; he remembers the number even if he didn't bother to save it. Giving his younger brother a dubious look, Rohit picks up the phone with a tentative hello.
'Rohit? Where's Varun?' comes the strangely familiar voice. It takes the man a minute to place it, shock and confusion coursing through him when he does.
'Shaheen?' he asks, the word making Varun's head shoot up, heart pounding, because it shouldn't be Shaheen, it's Alia's number, the one she told him was for emergencies only. He hears his brother say that now is not the best time but, before the sentence can be finished, he has taken the phone.
'What's wrong?' he asks, uncaring of the annoyed look his brother is giving him or the quiet protests of his babhi.
'I, uh, it's not that important. If it's not a good time...you know what, it really doesn't matter.' Varun knows that Shaheen is lying, can tell from the way she speaks, remembers the way both of the Bhatt sisters talk when they lie, carefully avoiding the subject at hand. There must have been something in his tone of voice that indicated his brother had been telling the truth, it's not the best time.
Truthfully, it probably wasn't the best time; he was mixed up and confused, but the fact that her sister had called him in the middle of the night told him that Alia needed him and he had promised her that he'd always be there, she just had to call. Even if it had been so long since they'd spoken, he is not about to break his promise. 'Shaheen, it does matter. If it didn't you wouldn't have called. What's wrong?' he asks again, his voice taking on the somewhat authoritative tone that he had often had to use with Alia when she edged around a subject.
'Nightmares, horrible ones.' the girl finally tells him. 'They never stopped but she's always told me not to say anything, forbidden me from calling you.'
'If she told you not to say anything, you probably shouldn't have called me.' he says, though he is so glad that she did; it wasn't a wise move because now all he wants is to go to her and he can't. There is quiet on the other end of the line and Varun lets out a sigh. 'What do you want me to do? If she doesn't want me to know, I can't help can I?'
'She asked for you.' Shaheen whispers, hesitant because she knows what effect this is going to have on him but also hopeful because after so long of watching her little sister suffer every day and every night, there is a chance, a tiny light on the horizon.
'Sh-she what?' he questions, disbelieving.
'She asked for you.' she repeats. 'I mean, she always wakes up calling for you, looking for you but she never asks for you but tonight she told me to call you so that's what I'm doing.'
'She told you to...?'
'Yes, she said to me Shaheen, call him. Please just call him.' the girl confirms.
'I'll be there in twenty.' he tells her, heart doing funny things that it probably shouldn't be, suddenly feeling light. There is no reply and he hangs up, already getting out of bed, reaching for his t-shirt and joggers.
'Varun, what're you doing? You're in no fit state to be going anywhere; you can't just go running when she calls.' Rohit states, attempting to stop him. His attempts have no impact; Varun simply dodges around his outstretched hand, moves out the way when he tries to block him. 'Would you listen to me? You can't do this! You're supposed to be trying to live your life, not get sucked back into the past.' Still, Varun pays no heed to the words. Sighing in defeat, Rohit turns to his wife. 'Samjhao isse.' he says, his tone slightly pleading.
'Varun, just think about this for a minute.' Jaanvi suggests. 'It's been years since you last spoke and things are bad enough for you as they are. This will just make it worse. Your brother's right, you're supposed to be trying to get past this.'
'I don't need to think about it. I made a promise and it didn't have a time limit or expiration date. There was no conditions or fine print; I didn't think twice before I made that promise, why should I think about sticking by it?' he demands, aggravated.
'Things were different then.'
'How? How was it any different?' he questions.
'Well for one, back then you two spoke on an almost daily basis.' Rohit answers, a list of reasons at the ready.
'What does that matter?'
'It's been almost three years since you last spoke.' the older man stresses.
'How many times do I have to say it? It. Doesn't. Matter. Three years or three decades, I promised I'd be there when she needs me.'
'Varun, I know this isn't easy but you have to leave her. That's what she asked you to do so do it; move on.' his babhi advises.
'She asked me to leave and the last thing I said to her was that when she needs me, all she has to do is call. She needs me, she called, I'm going.' he states, not leaving room for argument.
Of course, that doesn't stop his brother from arguing. 'She hasn't called once till now Varun; she should know that that promise isn't valid anymore.'
'Since when do promises go out of date bhaiya?'
'You're missing the point completely Varun! You're supposed to be moving on, not going backwards.'
'No, you're the one missing the point. There's no moving on from her. Not now, not ever. Because if I forget her like everyone expects me to, I forget half of the things that make me who I am, lose half my memories. So I'm sorry, but there's no moving on, no getting past it.' Without another word, he walks out of the room. This time neither of them try to stop him.
***
When he gets to Alia's apartment, Shaheen lets him in without a word. She gestures towards the stairs to tell him you know the way but she can't manage to say anything because she is utterly exhausted and slightly shocked to see that he actually came. With a nod of thanks, he makes his way up the stairs, taking them two at a time, his pace increasing as he makes it to the top, his feet automatically taking him in the right direction. He stops when he's outside the door to her room, suddenly feeling anxious. What if she'd changed her mind? What if she doesn't want to see him after all?
You've come here, you aren't leaving like that, he tells himself firmly. Clearing his doubts with a shake of his head, he takes a deep breath and pushes the door open, slowly walking in.
She is laying on her side, staring unseeingly at the wall. The blank look is slightly scary - absolutely terrifying - and he hopes that something else will replace it; recognition, hatred, anything.
He is only half a foot away from her when she notices that someone is in the room with her. She blinks, apparently coming back from her daze, and turns her gaze to him. A myriad of expressions flit across her face in a matter of seconds as she looks in him; recognition, confusion, sadness, relief. He is frozen in place, unsure of what to do now. She pushes herself up so that she's half sitting, still looking at him incredulously. Aware that she won't be the first to speak, he decides he has to. 'Long time huh?' he says, cringing at the casual statement. She nods, sitting herself up properly; he takes that to mean it's okay for him to sit down and lowers himself onto the bed, not taking his eyes off of her for a second. There is perhaps thirty seconds in which neither of them move and then she slowly raises a hand, bringing it to rest of the side of his face, being so gentle it's as though she thinks he might disappear. 'It's okay, I won't go up in smoke.' he promises, getting a weak chuckle out of her. The sound is brief, cut off abruptly because she surprised herself with it; nothing has made her laugh, actually laugh, in so long that she'd almost forgotten what her real laugh sounded like.
'You're real.' she murmurs, a little more confident in his solidness now. 'It's actually you.'
'What gave it away?' he jokes.
'I never get the details quite right.' she answers, not catching onto the fact that it'd been sarcasm.
'What?'
'In my dreams, there's always something off. Can't get your voice right, or the way your hair sticks up or the shape of your face.' she explains. It catches him off guard, takes away his words. 'I didn't think you'd actually come. I just, the nightmare wouldn't let me go and when it did, I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't see anything except your face and that look.' she tells him.
'Why wouldn't I come? I promised didn't I? When you need me, all you have to do is call.' he whispers.
'I know but I thought, I thought you wouldn't want anything to do with me. Thought you would've moved on by now. You don't need this, don't need some blast from the past screwing things up. I shouldn't have asked for you, I'm sorry, I just didn't know what else to do.' she apologises, suddenly too self-aware.
'Moved on? How do I do that?' he questions. 'Because everyone seems to be telling me I need to move on and get past this but I can't. So, if you've figured out how to do that, please let me in on the secret.'
'I was hoping you'd know.' she mutters. He shakes his head in the negative.
'Why?' She just sighs and looks away from him. 'Okay, how about we leave the words for a while? I get the feeling talking will just end in arguing and I haven't been this close to you in almost three years, I don't want it to end so quickly.' She looks back to him, nodding gratefully. 'Toh then come here.' he tells her, opening his arms for a hug. She gladly does as he says, her eyes flickering shut as she relaxes into him. They both know that this won't last for longer than a few hours, that she is too stubborn to let him come back now, cares too much about him to pull him back into the mess that is her life, even if it's slowly killing them both. But, for the moment, all of that is forgotten; they enjoy the time they've got.
Her breathing eases out, settling into the slow pattern of sleep, and he feels himself begin to drift off too.
***
He doesn't know what time it is or why he woke up. What he does know is that he needs to leave now, before she wakes up and he loses the will to go. With a sigh and a whispered apology, he presses a kiss to her forehead and, moving as slowly and carefully as he can, gets up.
He's not even taken a step when her hand takes hold of his; the touch is gentle, tentative. 'You're leaving without a goodbye?'
'Nothing new between us, is it Alu?' Her lower lip trembles and she's too tired to stop the few tears that spill over. She's always been his weakness and seeing her cry makes him feel like shit, especially when he can do something about it, so he decides that leaving isn't the best plan. 'Want me to stay a little longer?'
'Please.' Silence settles over them again as he lays back down, automatically wrapping his arms around her while her head comes to rest on his chest. He waits for her to fall asleep again, keeps himself awake despite the urge to fall back into dreamland. Her breathing gets deeper and he thinks she's almost made her way back to the land of nod but then she moves, sitting up abruptly and looking at him slightly horrified.
'Alia, what is it? What's wrong?'
'You should go.' she mutters, hating herself.
'You just asked me to stay.'
'I, I was half asleep, didn't realise what I was saying.' she mumbles.
'You knew exactly what you were saying.'
'No, I didn't.' she denies, stubbornly refusing to look at him.
'Why are you doing this Alu?'
'Doing what?'
'This! Pushing me away again.'
'Because I never should have asked for you to come here tonight. It was a stupid mistake and I don't want you being pulled back into this so please just go.' she pleads, fighting the tears this time, making sure to keep her voice from cracking.
'Why? Why can't you let me stay? Why do we have to keep doing this?'
'Varun-'
'No, for once, would you just listen? You pushing me away hurts me, me leaving hurts you, hurting you hurts me and hurting me hurts you so why are we doing this?'
'Because you staying would hurt more.'
'How?'
'If you stay, you'll end up like me and I don't want that.'
'What do you mean end up like you?'
'Varun, I'm so fucking lost inside my own head that I don't even know who I am anymore, you know that. I don't want you to end up like that-'
'But I'm already like that! Without you, I'm like that.'
'Varun -'
'No. I don't want you to reason with me! You just don't get it.' He sighs, deflating as the realisation hits him. 'I thought that if anyone would understand, it'd be you but even you don't get it.'
'Get what?'
'Without you, I'm lost. Shit doesn't make sense and I don't know who I am anymore. With you, at least I know who I am. With you, I'm not Varun Dhawan the actor. I'm not Varun Dhawan, David Dhawan's son or Rohit Dhawan's brother. I'm not Varun Dhawan playing a character. I'm not Varun Dhawan, I'm Varun, just Varun, your Varun.'
'As much as I'd love to tell you otherwise, you're not my Varu-'
'Then who am I? If I'm not your Varun, who the hell am I? If you don't know me, I don't know who I am!'
'You don't need me to tell you that. You don't need anyone to tell you that.' she argues.
'Yes I do, because between so many characters and so many people seeing me as so many different things, expecting so much from me, it's so easy to lose track of who I am so I look at you and see the person you see and that's who I try to be. Or I used to anyway but I guess there's nothing to see there anymore because I'm nothing to you anymore.' She wants to tell him that's not true, tell him that he's her lifeline, her world, her everything, but she knows that if she tells him that, he won't leave and she needs him to, needs him to go because if he stays she'll ruin him and that will destroy her.
When he receives no response to his words, no confirmation or denial, he gives up. As he walks out the door, he tells himself that he's done, he's leaving and this time he's never looking back. With every step he takes, he tells himself that he's going to move on this time, no more being stuck in the past. And as he shuts the door, he tells himself that he's just shut the door on them and he will not open it again.
He ignores the little voice telling him he's lying.
He can't ignore the one that tells him he's just made the biggest mistake of his life.
***
It seems the universe is conspiring against him. The more he tries to forget her, the more he is reminded of her. No matter what he does, something triggers his memories of her, a tidal wave of them throwing him under and apparently he's forgotten how to swim.
Her name keeps coming up in conversations and it confuses him beyond belief because everyone knows better by now but they're all constantly talking about her like nothing ever happened. He can't seem to use twitter or Instagram without seeing her face in every other picture; even YouTube hates him, recommending video after video of Alia Bhatt.
It makes no sense. He has gone so long without this happening, managed to avoid any and all mention of her until now, so why is she haunting him like this all of a sudden?
He suffers through it for weeks until he can't take it anymore. After six weeks of the strange torture, he feels ready to explode. Unable to do as he had told himself and move on, he settles for the next best thing: going back.
There had been no conscious decision on his part; he doesn't even remember getting in his car but there he is, stood outside the door to her apartment. He knows for a fact that her sister is out of town, courtesy of her Instagram, and he knows that Alia will slam the door in his face. Fortunately for him, Shaheen seems to still like him; she'd let him know where they keep the spare key when he'd texted her, though he doesn't entirely remember texting her if he's honest.
He could turn back, his logical side is telling him to, but his brain is no longer in control of his actions. Sweeping a hand across the top of the door frame, he locates the key, making a mental note to tell Alia not to keep her key in such an obvious spot as he unlocks the door. He tries his best to be silent as he makes his way through the house, feeling slightly stupid and slightly stalkerish - seriously, who breaks into their, for lack of a better term, friend's house like that? Apparently he does.
Up until he is stood outside the door to her room, his brain tells him he can leave, it'd be the right thing to do. But logical falls flat in this situation and his brain shuts up as he opens the door to her room. This time, she looks up at the slight creak of the hinges. 'Varun, tum yahan-' her question is cut off as he crosses the room and kisses her. 'Varun-' she murmurs pulling away from his lips ever so slightly but the rest of her words are gone as his lips find hers again - or maybe hers find his. There is an eagerness, a desperation, a feverishness about the kiss. They devour each other, consume each other and allow themselves to be consumed.
Needing to be closer, she fists a hand in his shirt and pulls him down with her as she lays back on the bed. His lips leave hers, travelling over her skin but, though she can't breathe, she needs more of him; the lingering taste of him is nowhere near enough. She tugs at his hair, pulling him back up, lips meeting his again in a searing kiss. He is everywhere and everything and she's not sure if she wants to push him away or pull him closer. Thinking straight is not a possibility in that moment, nothing makes sense. The mere thought of pushing him aways pains her but the facts of what will happen if she let's this continue torture her.
She's torn between the choices, the feeling of his hands on her skin doing nothing to help. His teeth sink into her skin and a moan pulls itself from her throat as she clutches at his back despite herself. Somewhere she registers the fact that she is not feeling the soft cotton of his t-shirt that she should be, that it's his bare skin under her hands and that she doesn't know when that happend but the thought seems insignificant; she doesn't care when or how or who, all that matters is the feeling of his cool skin against her overheated self, the feeling of his body pressed against hers.
The part of her that is protesting gets quieter and quieter, fading into non-existence. She can't fight it anymore, sees no point in it. They have fought for so long and they are both hurting. Maybe this is what we need, she thinks, the closure we need to be able to move on.
She's lying to herself and she knows it but the thought assuages her guilt so she lets herself believe it.
***
She can barely breathe; his state is no better. As they lay there, trying to get the air back to their lungs, the guilt plagues her. It shouldn't have happened, she shouldn't have let it happen. She has been the one to push him away, the one to make sure things didn't go beyond her control but she let this happen.
Oblivious to her thoughts, he wraps an arm around her, pulling her to his side with ease. She tries to let the comforting feeling of his body next to hers, his arm around her, take away the horrible emotions churning in her stomach but it makes them worse. They both know that come morning he'll be gone but she doesn't want to believe it. Looking for a distraction, she sits up, spotting his discarded t-shirt at the edge of the mattress. She reaches for it but he's sat up with her and his arms are wrapping around her waist, soft kisses being pressed to the skin of her neck, over her shoulder. Her fingers twist in the material in her hands, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she thinks about what to do. She knows that she should pull the shirt on, spurn his advances but it feels so good and it's not like it would make all that much of a difference if she gave in, just once more.
Her grip loosens and the shirt falls from her hands as he pulls her back down, somehow manoeuvring them so that he is once again on top of her, pressing her into the soft pillows as he pulls the covers up over them. This time, it isn't as feverish though the desperation is still there. Something else is present as well, something much deeper, something that tears them apart and puts them back together in the same second, something that makes her whole being tremble with a ghost of a touch.
***
'I'm gonna miss you tomorrow.' she whispers, breaking the silence.
'What?'
'In the morning, when I wake up, I'm gonna miss you.'
'What makes you think I won't be here when you wake up?'
'After everything that's happened between us, everything I've done to you, if you're still here in the morning, you're the stupidest man on the planet.'
'Log pyaar mein pagal hojata na?'(People go crazy in love right?) She sighs, shaking her head. 'Alia, jo tum Einstein ho ya Bill Gates ho ya aam admi ho, pyaar mein pagal hojata. Stupid nahi hai.' (Whether you're Einstein, Bill Gates or a normal person, you go crazy in love. It's not stupid.)
'Haan, stupid hai!' (Yes it is stupid!) she explodes. 'Kyunki sabi galti ke liya log pyaar ka naam dehti hai aur kehte hai ki teek hai pur teek nahi hai! Jo maine kiya hai, voh teek nahi hai! Ane jo tu savar sudi gyo nati toh you're the stupidest man on the planet.' (Because, for every mistake, people use love as an excuse and say it's fine but it's not okay! What I've done, it's not okay. And if you're not gone by morning...)
'Alia, could you please explain to me what it is that you think you've done? Because I really don't understand.'
'How do you not? You're the one who said that me pushing you away like that hurts, that what I did hurt you.' she says.
'Yes, it hurt but it hurts more that you keep doing it. And it kills me that I can't do anything to help the fact that it's hurting you. Everytime I leave, it hurts you just as much as it hurts me, if not more, but I can't do anything to help that because whether I stay or leave it hurts you.' he exclaims, utterly helpless.
'What do I do? What do you want me to do Varun? I can't help it.' she cries, breaking completely.
'Alu, it's okay.' he tries to comfort her but she doesn't let him, shrugging him off and shrinking back from his touch.
'It's not okay. It's really not.' she mutters.
'Alia-'
'No. Don't tell me it's okay. Don't act like I haven't hurt you, like I'm not still hurting you. I know I have and I know I am and I know that I need to stop this but I can't. I'm a fucked up mess, Varun. I've dragged you into this once and I'm not going to do it again.'
'You didn't drag me into anything! I was there because I wanted to be, not because you forced me to be. I was your best friend, that's what I was supposed to do.' he counters, quickly getting frustrated again.
'For fuck's sake Varun! You just don't give up do you? This. This is why I have to keep pushing you away! Because you are too good.'
'What the hell is that supposed to mean?' he demands.
'You have such a clean heart and a pure soul and I don't want to ruin that. So as much as it bloody well hurts to push you away, as much as it kills me that I'm hurting you, I have to. I'm sorry, but I have to.'
'Alu-'
'Don't, just don't.'
'But Alia-'
'I'm tired. I think it's bed time.' she states, turning over and pulling the blanket up to wrap around her more securely. He follows her, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her against him. 'Varun?'
'Yeah?'
'I know I'm really in no place to ask you a favour right now but can I?'
'Do you really have to ask?'
'I know that you hate me, or you will-'
'Not possible.' he denies.
'You will, if not now then someday, you will. You'll resent me at the very least and that's okay. I'm not going to ask you not to.' she tells him. 'And someday, I'll be a faded memory. A name that sounds familiar but you can't quite place, a half blurred face that you can't recall. That's okay too, I want you to forget me.'
'Alia, just sto-'
'I want you to forget me.' she repeats, talking over him. 'I know you'll hate me but just, when everyone else forgets that I wasn't always thins way, remember. Please. Remember that Alia; remember Alu, your Alu. And hate me, you have every right to hate me, but that girl, the one you first met, don't hate her. She didn't do anything wrong. She loved you. She loves you with everything she had; she just never found the courage to tell you.' The tears fall thick and fast, wetting the pillow and dampening her hair but she can't find the strength to wipe them away.
'You're wrong.' he whispers.
'Varun, I know you want to believe the best but it's not the case this time-'
'No Alu, you're wrong. That girl is still right here; my Alu is still right here.'
'How can you know that?'
'Because if she wasn't, you wouldn't have said any of that. If she wasn't, you wouldn't still be pushing me away, you would be selfish and say fuck it, I don't care what happens, I'm going to be selfish, but you don't because in some messed up way, that's how you show you care. And because you screwed up Alia, you screwed up and said she loves me.' he justifies, smirking triumphantly.
'No, no, I said loved.' she denies.
'You did, the first time. The second time you said loves.'
'Well it was a mistake, a slip of the tongue. It doesn't mean anything.'
'If it doesn't mean anything, you wouldn't be going on the defensive.' his smirk grows as he tears apart her arguments.
'You better wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, Varun Dhawan.' she warns, resorting to threatening him now that her fight has been torn to shreds.
'What're you gonna do if I don't?' he teases, shifting them so that she's laying on her back and he's next to her on his side.
'I'll...' she thinks for a minute but comes up short. 'Shit, I don't remember how to threaten you.' He laughs, a full, infectious chuckle that breaks through all the walls and barriers and makes her laugh too.
'God Alu, I've missed you.' he murmurs when they finally come down from the laughter high.
'Don't get used to this.' He sighs exasperatedly. 'I mean it Varun, I can't do this to you-'
'Alia, what part of I'm miserable without you is so hard to understand?'
'All of it.'
'Then don't try to understand it, just fucking accept it. I'm not going to let you push me away again because it hurts us both and we're both miserable and there's no point.' he states, taking away the option for arguing.
To his surprise, she doesn't try to argue, just nods. 'Okay.'
'What did you just say?'
'Okay. I won't push you away this time.'
'This isn't a joke right?'
'No. I'm done fighting. I don't have the energy for it anymore. If you really want to stay, that's fine by me.'
'In that case, I'm not going anywhere.'
'Good. Now can we go to sleep, I'm actually really tired.'
'You're not happy?'
'I am. I think. I just need some time for it to sink in.'
'Take as much time as you need, I'll still be right here.' She gives him a soft smile, broken by a yawn. 'Okay, sleepy time.' She nods her agreement and turns back to her side. He settles in behind her, holding her tight and they drift off.
For the first time in years, both of them sleep without their dreams disturbing them.
A/N: Uh, hi.
I completely understand if you're in the mood to murder me right now. If it makes you feel any better, me not a fan of me right now either.
Uhmmmmm, not much to say except for there's some videos to go with this chapter. One is up in le media box and the other is here.
So yeah, that's all for now. See you guys later.