The October sky was filled with clouds which were flecked with gold and a gleam of grey, such that the melody of uninterrupted hues was strung along by an invisible hand, such that the trees seem to be chirping with a life of their own, and birds pouting against the branches, feathers all fluffed out in a vain attempt to impress. Life was cozy in the fall, Amrita said as she took Shivam's hand and cradled it in her own. They were lying under a tree in the park, the crisp fall shrouding them in its evanescent colours and perky hues.
He was listening to her sing the swan song, the song which she belived was their own, and watching how the leaves seemed to dance to her melody. The branches swayed to the rhythm of the wind, and his fingers itched with lingering joy. She noticed that he seemed far, far away. His mood was located in another land - his fingers were trembling, his glasses perched on his nose, lost to the world. She realized he was wrapped up in the memory of a distant lover, a love he had never ever forgotten and whose crumbling edifices protected the rim of his heart. He had never belived in giving his heart to another, as his eyes were complacent and his soul was fragile to the outer world's/ hostility.
"Do you miss her?" she asked, stroking his hair, stroking the skin beneath his eyes and watching his mouth widen into a carnation smile.
He shook his head, his thoughts unreachable, his memories strewn with gold, and his eyes taking on that faraway look which she was scared of.
She turned over in the grass, and hoped he didn't notice the bitter tear falling from the corner of her eye.
He didn't.
"If I lose Amrita, i will lose every inch of what I have within me,"he was thinking. "I've never told her I love her, I can't. She might leave me like Pallavi did."
His heart and mind were conflicted. He had always pitted Pallavi against Amrita, to him they were locked in a fierce competiiton of ownership over his heart. It had taken long, months for Amrita to unveil a new side to him, a side he had not felt before, where his scholarship and artistry faded away into nothingness as her fingers would stroke his hair and the way she would kiss his eyes. These had swept him into a bubblegum world of pastel colours and candyfloss nuances. The sky always seemed bluer when they lay on the grass, the kites soaring soared higher, and the couds always seemed to be more gold-flecked than grey.
He would not tell her he saw those things. To him, hewas simultaneously betraying Pallavi and betraying his own soul.
"I don't like colours that much," he would sigh to himself, with what cynicism he could muster up under unclouded October skies.
Colours, threadbare, were creeping into his soul. All things spicy and sweet were creeping into his heart. He wanted more. he wanted to drink from the same coffee cup she was drinking from. he wanted to see the world with her eyes, it's splendid coloursa nd florid enigma bursting with the flavours he had only ever readn of in books. He wanted to feel alive with the dreamy hues of life and find himself coated with merry and myriad feel of the autumn.
"I miss her at times, but I'm now with you and I need you,"he said, turning away. He hid his face in the grass, so she would not notie his bittersweet tears, running down the afce she adored so much.
She heard the reply she was expecting and looked up at the sky. There was a tinge of grey now. She wished it would widen and swallow them both whole in its overwhelming shade.