Burning Moon

Disillusionment

'Get the fucking hell away from me.'

No matter what language that was in, it could never directly translate to 'I love you' or 'I miss you', the words that she had expected. If nothing, Tara was caught off guard.

She had woken up early today and dressed up, her heart a mess, expectant to find the one who made it so, only to arrive at the glass house to see Mr. Malik crouching beside an upturned blender and a crying mess. Of course, her heart had done nothing else but panic for the one it beat for, her feet taking flight in their own to his side.

Tara wanted to comfort him. She wanted to shower him with her love like he did to her in secret.

But he spurned her. He rejected her and was now looking down at her with a fiery gaze that was full of a strange emotion that she'd rather not name. How could Tara bear to think that her Mr. Malik possibly hated instead of loving her?

When he had risen up from the floor to tower above her, her head could not register, in a mess. But Tara could feel him violently yank her by the wrist so that she stood before he violently dragged her towards the door, yelling.

"I said to get away from me! Get out and don't come back here! Get the hell out of my house!"

Tara started to cry and she knew it wasn't because of her hand that stung. It was her broken heart wondering if this was real.

Despite Deva's anger, he didn't push her out, releasing her at the door and screaming at her with everything that he had. Deva didn't know why but the memory of her in another man's arms loomed larger in his sight more than ever, so that he couldn't see, he couldn't breathe. He would choke in the pain, the anguish in his heart. It was better if she left than torture him.

Since she was making it clear that he had dreamt too much, the poor orphan who wished for a diamond rather than stones had become damned, Deva wanted to use this chance to hurt her too, even a little. A princess like her had probably never been yelled at, more or less by a boss who she thought was her latest charity case.

He yelled at her and looked to the side, arms folded and awaiting for her spoiled exit where she took off and ran to her fancy doctor who was born in wealth.

But she didn't.

Tara didn't run away. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and stepped forward before boldly grabbing him, forcing him to face her.

"Why are you like this?! Why are you so unnecessarily cruel to me?! Why.."

"Shut up! I said to shut up!" Deva was having none of her fake tears. He was done with being yelled at, bossed around, and tossed from side to side because of his degenerate, trashy heart. 

He pointed a stern finger at her. "Don't you ever yell at me. You don't seem to know your place, Tara Seghal. I," he pointed to himself, "am your boss, and you are my employee. I pay you. You don't pay me."

And that was when he saw it clearly in her face. The way it paled, the way her eyes shook, her breath hitched like she heard something abominable. So Deva retraced his words and when he was done, he looked at her with scorn.

Wasn't this interesting? Little Miss Princess wasn't done playing with her toys.

Pa. Pa. Pa.

Deva clapped thrice, confusing Tara - and then he laughed derisively while looking her up and down. She felt violated by his open mockery but she steeled herself for what he had to say.

But oh. She shouldn't have.

"Miss. Tara Seghal," he chuckled before heading to the sofa and sitting down, "you seem to be thinking a lot of cheap things lately. For instance...'my boss must like me so much since he took me to the hospital and so on', right?"

Tara looked at him, fists balled, and he didn't dodge. He now knew what she was thinking and wondered if her heart was beating fast like his did when he was around her. The thought made him hope so much that he was sad and his heart ached.

Deva wondered if there was a boundary to foolishness. This woman wanted to entrap him with her wiles and use his feelings against him, strip of his last layer of self.

No, he decided. He couldn't let her pollute what was his. His love, his feelings were his - even if his soul, his body, his life and entire existence was hers. She owned everything that was a part of him, except his feelings.

And he couldn't risk sharing them with her, only to have them crushed and destroyed. He wouldn't allow her make him believe in tales that she could be his, only to pin him in the dirt. He'd go crazy. Deva knew the day he believed they could be one only to be laughed at, he'd go crazy.

And if he went crazy, who'd take care of Farwari, Badshah and Begum? Who'd take care of Basant Kaka? Of his haveli?

Tara Seghal....and her doctor lover.

"Damn you! I said damn you!" His inner anger translated into the open so that he couldn't tell when he leapt up from the chair and was back in her face, yelling. "You are such a stupid woman with all your dumb fantasies. Let me tell you now and forever, I will never ever be so dumb as to have feelings for you. You mean nothing to me. Nothing! Now get lost out of my sight!"

He pointed at the door, eyes trained on the tears that ran down her face, willing his treacherous heart to not be taken by her fake act. 

"I said to get out...!"

Slap. Slap.

Tara slapped him not once, but twice with all that she had, cutting his words short. Her heart was filled with so much pain and disappointment and her eyes couldn't hide her feelings. Deva looked at her in a daze, hand on cheek and she looked back at him, at this filthy man that she thought was the lover of her soul, her forever.

He was nothing but a foul bully and a thug and no amount of wealth or good looks could erase that fact or this evening from her memory.

Tara thought it was the evening that her first love was crushed before her eyes. She felt like scrubbing the walls of her heart with detergent for letting such a monster own it.

She said what she felt, her voice firm.

"You disgust me." she repeated herself, "I said you disgust me."

As if acting out her words, she rubbed the hand that she used to slap him against her blouse before pointing a finger at him.

"Forget leaving here now. I don't ever want to see your shitty face again!" she yelled because she was in pain, "I will freaking sue you and your entire company, Mr. Dev Malik. Just wait and watch."

She made to leave before turning back a bit.

"And by the way, you go to hell. I have never and will never have feelings for a piece of trash like you."

Deva watched her walk out and then run a few feet away into the forest, at a loss for words. He felt pain all over, within and without. Was he too much? Was he wrong for only trying to protect himself? Was he wrong for just wanting his unreturned feelings to not be violated like every other part of him was? Was he wrong for being born poor and without parents, only to covet who he shouldn't?

Yes, yes. He was wrong. His life, Tara Seghal, had finally told him her truth and his truth. He wasn't even worthy of her pitiful jokes, to look at her from afar even with his eyes lowered. He was just a walking piece of trash as she said and now he had received her slaps, her curses, and hatred.

"Ah, Deva. Deva!"

He cried out and loud, falling to the ground, his hands covering his face with tears spilling through them at onto the floor. It sounded full of despair, the empty glass house echoing his pain.

What Deva didn't know was that his pain was shared. If he had taken the time to look, he would have seen his beloved run away with her own tears streaming down her face.

Deva's impatience was probably his biggest misfortune. Then again, what man was more patient than our Deva?