Love, Limps (Part One)

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Her eyes opened again…

She could tell she was alive. She was in her own home, lying on her bed. Each day she woke up and the first thing she saw was the ceiling fan dangling straight above her. Today was no different for her. She lay still for a while, staring incessantly at the fan. It had gathered some dust. She was naked beneath the covers. Winters were about to be over. Soon, the need for covers would cease. The last days of February generally made her sick. This year, somehow, she hadn’t been. The fan was in an urgent need of cleaning. She should’ve cleaned it the day before when the thought had crossed her mind. She tried closing her eyes again, but sleep had long left her body. She had to get up now.

A new day had begun like always. It was clockwork: wake up, survive, sleep. She needed to leave the bed. She needed to sit, stand, or walk. Lying idly wouldn’t accomplish anything, nor did it suit her. She had had ample time to sleep but felt tired nonetheless. She tried to get up but something was stopping her from doing so today. Her heart was beating a tad faster today. She exhaled and then inhaled a familiar scent. It was intoxicating and brought back memories from a few hours ago: The musky scent of his body, which covered the sheets, the room, and her.

She smiled a little, remembering the night before. The slight throbbing in her head didn’t bother her, for nothing’s better than a good ol’ hangover after a night of friskiness. However, the night was long gone. It was morning now. Her reverie was broken as she realized it was Monday. She hated Mondays more than she hated sleeping. The fan was still there, dangling right above. It was a shame it never fell on them.

Them…

He slept right next to her. Handsome as ever, clad in nothing but the covers, he was a delight to look at. He always slept like a baby. She loved looking at him. Somehow, it relaxed her. His rhythmic breathing, the occasional sound he made, even the light snoring. She didn’t mind any of it. It was all dear to her. She was in love, probably. Whether her love was reciprocated was something she didn’t delve much in.

She sighed and sat up, looked around her. The room was a mess. Every weekend their room turned out like this and every Monday she had to tidy it all up. Another reason to dread the day! She did not want to disturb his sleep, but kissed his cheek even so, out of habit. He quivered a bit but kept sleeping. She took another look at his face before getting off the bed. Butterflies in her stomach.

The floor was as cold as she had anticipated. She searched for her slippers, and then her clothes. She found a robe to slip in, went straight toward the balcony and slid the glass door open. She exhaled as she looked at the panoramic view from the twenty-fourth floor of the building where her apartment was. It was peaceful, serene. Delhi was still asleep, as it didn’t wake up until it was eight in the morning. The clock had just struck six. Most of her city was on the verge of waking up. The city was still sleepy, just like she was. She kept gazing at the view from her balcony, one hand placed firmly on the metal railing; other hand catching a stray hair strand. The breeze today was a tad colder as the sun hadn’t risen yet. The cool wind gave her Goosebumps on her neck, her arms; she didn’t mind them. She tucked the stray strand behind her ear and kept staring at nothing, thinking nothing. There was nothing on her mind. Future was something she never really cared much about. As of now, she was content, smiling, as the cool wind caressed her face.

No one could see her and she didn’t want to see anyone but him. Beneath the robe, she was naked, but the morning chill didn’t bother her. The famous Delhi winter wasn’t something that could bother a true blue Himachali girl. This was nothing. If someone had seen her right there, right then, they would’ve surely fallen in love. She was something way beyond the word beautiful could mean. Slender, cute face, and oodles of oomph, she was the perfect woman anyone could dream of. She’d just woken up and even in her frizzy hair and morning face, she looked nothing short of a nymph sent from the heavens above. He was lucky to have her.

Right behind her, sleeping on his left side, with folded arms, his eyes opened slightly.

Her silhouette was the first thing he saw and he kept staring for more than a few seconds. If it were any other man, they would’ve certainly smiled seeing such a pristine sight. They would’ve rejoiced at their luck and thanked the almighty for her.

He didn’t.

He stared some more, and then went back to sleep.

contd.

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