A Million Little Things

Chapter twelve

Blinking my eyes nonstop I try to stop the tears flowing down my cheeks as I feel some warmth covering me, looking at my side I note the leather material framing my small body.

I look up to see Atharva indicating me to put my hand through the sleeve of the jacket and I follow silently. Watching him as he pulls the jacket then zips it up. "It's going to be a cold ride."

My eyebrows furrow in confusion, before I could ask he walked forward few steps then stopped, turning back and offering his hand for me to take. I again stare at it for few seconds.

Take it, he is a safe space.

And I take it, he starts walking with those long legs as I jog a bit in my heels to keep up with him, but then suddenly he slows down as I sigh in relief and continue walking at my pace.

Think about anything but them Shiya. Distract yourself.

So I watch him. I watch him as he fishes out his phone. He guides me outside the club gates then turns right all while holding my hand, and occasionally squeezing to say that I'm safe and okay.

But I am not okay. I never have.

I look around, watching many cars pass by as we draw closer to the bike rental station. We are going on a bike?

Is that what he meant by it's going to be a very cold ride?

When we reach the bike rental station, he lets go of my hand and walks to some sporty Honda bike and unlocks it. While he arranges the bike for us, I turn around watching cars drive by, reading and guessing their brands and models to distract myself.

I am not ready to let myself think about it. I don't wanna think what I have lost and probably going to loose now.

Hyundai Ion 5, BMW 3 series, Suzuki Brant Vita, Tata Safari—

I get startled by the sudden engine noise as I turn to see Atharva wearing a helmet and staring at me, "hop on" he gestures for me to take the helmet and sit behind him.

Fuck this a scary bike and my first time sitting on one.

"Helmet Madame," he tries to bring a smile on my face by his fake posh accent as I silently take the helmet from him and put it on. Then I bite my lip, wondering how the hell am I supposed to climb over the back seat, when it is just too high for me.

"Here, step here," he shows the additional paddle by the side where apparently I should my foot and climb over.

Keeping my hands over his shoulder, I slowly climb over. Wriggling a bit I find a comfortable spot as my hands tighten its hold on his shoulders. "Ready?" He asked as I nodded.

As soon as he moved the bike forward, my hand found their way around his waist as I yelped in surprise because of the quick acceleration. My face rested on his back as he rode through the half empty street with ease.

I loved the way the cold wind felt against me, especially against my bare legs. It felt fresh, it felt like this was exactly something I needed. Soon, he was speeding through the Worli Sea Link, and the grin that adorned my face was hurting my jaw. Tears were flowing down my cheeks, hurting my chest, but I didn't care about it.

I continued to ignore them as I always had.

Hugging him tighter, I sighed in content. Even if I wanted to ignore the fact that I was developing feelings for my therapist, it was difficult—especially when he would take routes that weren't necessary, as if he knew that the sea smell rushing through us would be enough to calm me down.

Soon, he was stopping right in front of my building lobby, as I slowly climb down and then remove the helmet. Handing it over to him, I watch him hand it by the side mirror then kick off the ignition and turn towards me, keeping on hand on his thigh.

"Can I ask you something? This might be personal." He says looking at me with a soft smile and I knew it didn't hold any pity or fakery.

"Is it about the man we met in the club?" I inhale deeply as I observe him nod. "Well, yes, he's someone I cared about. A lot." I pause, shifting my gaze past him to the golden streetlight. "Then I lost him, myself, and everyone around me. The result is me undergoing therapeutic treatment now."

"Were you in love with him?" He asked as I silently nod, glancing down at my glittery heels, watching my toes trying to wriggle around. "Falling in love is not a sin. It's a curse, a beautiful torturing cursed laid upon us."

It's a curse, he is right. It's a beautiful torturing curse.

I glanced at his ring, he was speaking like he is telling me the result from his own experience. Is that ring the significance of it?

Has he been in so much love before that it ended up breaking his heart, himself.

I glance up at his face, he had removed the helmet and now all of his well maintained hair were standing up due to static energy. A small giggle escaped me as I stepped forward to settle it down without realising.

I feel my lips stretching a bit as I continue patting his hair down. The suddenly I realise how close I was to him, how close was my face to his, how our noses were almost touching.

Just lean in 1 centimetres more Shiya.

And I did, as our noses brushed against each other. My breathing was stuck in my throat as I stared at his charcoal eyes, they were so beautiful that I wanted to smudge them across my canvas.

"Breathe snowdrop." And that's all it took me to capture his lips with mine. It was short and fierce. It was fire yet ice. It was intense yet gentle.

I wanted to pull myself apart yet continue kissing him, it could only be describe as that good.

When we finally separated, he leaned his forehead against mine, breathing hard like me. "Fuck snowdrop." He uttered, as my eyes snapped open due to the pain in his voice as I read his expression. It was pain stricken.

I don't know what it is, but I knew that I caused that. He is in pain because I kissed him, I shouldn't have done it. Maybe he is reminded of that person he fell in love and then lost them.

I immediately step back, looking at him with most convincing placid face I could manage at that moment. I broke myself again.

I hurt him too, just like I hurt everyone around me.

He is the fourth victim tonight.

How many more are left? When will the list end?

I am tired of this, I want to end this.

I keep taking steps back as he watches me with confusion now. "Shiya," he calls me out as I immediately turn around, knowing that if I look at him again I would loose it. I won't be able to stop my tears, my shaking hands and my aching chest.

I am villian in everyone's storybook, even my own.

Do I really have anything to be grateful about?