Fitoor: The Obsession

8: MADMAN

It was one of those nights again.

Xavier laid on his bed, arms spread out and unmoving. The room was dark and silent, safe for his heartbeat that only seemed to grow louder and louder, and his own breathing which was growing faster and faster. He suddenly kicked his blankets off, feeling suffocated by them. But now he had to cope with the wave of cold air that washed over him following the removal of them.

As he swung his legs over the side of his bed, the concrete floor of the bunker felt like ice to the soles of his feet. Quietly walking towards the door, he strived to open it as silently as possible. The hinges creaked and whined slightly louder than he had hoped in the open, echo-inducing hallway. He placed his palm against the wall and began his trek through the dark abyss, keeping his breathing quiet to avoid the risk of alerting his guests.

Reaching the main hall, he took hold of his violin that was on display. A sense of familiarity was felt. Its surface was patterned with woodgrain and absorbed light rather than reflected it with its dark, enticing, mahogany colour. Every delicate detail had been made with skill and care. Although he usually did not pay attention to such detail, having had this particular violin for many years, he was sometimes struck by the symmetry and perfection of the instrument.

The aristocrat brought the violin up to his shoulder, resting his chin on the familiar rest and closed his eyes. Years of practice had trained him to handle it with care and attention. Very slowly he drew his bow across the strings and a slow melody came forth from the instrument. Although he was the one playing his violin, he often felt that he was barely worthy of it.

He felt the violin and its strings flowing through his body carefully and softly touching his veins, soul and heart. The man found himself taking a journey through the notes. Playing softly on a minor scale, it brought back some nostalgic memories. It reminded him of his parents and the sweet little things he remembered from them. Bitter things too.

Xavier stopped playing and silence invaded the room. Setting the violin down, he acknowledged her presence.

"I know you're there," he said quietly.

Everything in this soft and pure nature contrasted to Xavier's style and current attitude. Aditi thought the music was simply beautiful. Not really relaxing or calming– Xavier was not like that– but still pure and somehow inspiring. It sounded like those classical-baroque pieces that screamed passion and emotion from all its pores.

All those sounds, all that melody, all of it, was all Xavier.

Her figure slinked out of the shadows. "I'm sorry. I was on my way out."

"This late at night?"

"I couldn't sleep and thought of heading back home to my bed."

"It's not safe to walk alone at this time. Do you not feel comfortable? Is there something you dislike?"

"God, no! Everything is perfect," she quickly defended. "I'm just more comfortable in my own home."

Xavier nodded understandingly. "Well, I'm heading out. I will walk you on the way."

"Where?"

"To your house."

"Well, I mean where are you going?"

The answer to that question eluded Xavier. The truth was, he had no intention of going anywhere. His only concern was making sure she reached home safely. "A small part of town," he lied.

"I'll follow."

"It is not advisable for ladies."

"I don't remember asking you for an opinion, my lord. And isn't this what friends do? Spend time with each other?"