Love Across Time

Fifty Six

-𝓕𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓟𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓮-

A cold surprise washed over Aanya as she recognized the approaching figure. The chime of anklets heralded his turn, revealing eyes that widened in shock. A year and a half had passed since their last encounter, yet a flicker of recognition remained. Aanya, though seemingly unchanged, felt a world away. The warmth that once resided in her gaze had morphed into a mask of indifference, a shield against the storm of emotions churning within.

Silence descended, heavy with unspoken words and the weight of their fractured bond. Aanya cleared her throat, the sound sharp and out of place in the temple's serenity. "Pranipat, Angraj," she greeted, her voice barely a whisper.

Karna, drawn by the familiar lilt, turned to face her. A hesitant smile played on his lips. "Aanya," he rumbled, a touch of surprise coloring his voice. "A pleasant surprise to find you here."

Aanya remained rooted to the spot, her initial shock morphing into a guarded curiosity. "What brings you here, Angraj?" she inquired, a hint of formality still clinging to her tone.

Karna gestured towards the deity's statue. "Seeking solace, perhaps," he replied, his gaze lingering on the idol for a moment before returning to her. "The world can be a harsh place, Aanya. Even for warriors."

Aanya offered a curt nod before moving towards the Shivalinga to perform her daily rituals. As she closed her eyes in prayer, Karna couldn't help but steal glances at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. What had caused such a shift in her demeanor?

He watched her finish her puja and turn to leave. "Aanya," he called out, his voice stopping her in her tracks.

Aanya turned back, her brow arched in question. A flicker of vulnerability, unexpected and raw, crossed Karna's features as he spoke. "How are you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Aanya hesitated, caught between the distrust that had festered within and the surprising glimpse of vulnerability she'd witnessed. The rising sun cast dancing shadows across the temple floor, momentarily bathing Karna in a golden light.

"I am well, Angraj," she murmured, a faint tension lingering in her jaw.

"Why are you here?" Karna couldn't help but ask her. The question lingered in his mind, since the day he visited Dwarka.

A strained silence followed Karna's question. Aanya's fingers tightened around the hem of her saffron dupatta, the fabric crumpling beneath her grip. "It's not important, Angraj," she finally said, her voice clipped and devoid of the warmth it once held.

Karna frowned, his gaze etching itself onto her face. "Aanya," he began, concern lacing his tone, "we were friends once. What has caused this change?"

A wry smile, devoid of humor, played on Aanya's lips. "Yes, Angraj," she conceded, her voice laced with a bitter edge, "we were friends. But the day you stood as a shield for Duryodhana, that bond snapped."

Karna's jaw clenched for a moment, then relaxed. "He was my friend, Aanya," he defended, his voice low.

A curt nod was her only response. Aanya refused to be drawn into an argument, the hurt still raw even after more than a year had passed. With a finality that brooked no discussion, she turned and began to walk away.

As Aanya brushed past the doorway, the world outside seemed to lose its vibrancy. A figure, stark against the harsh sunlight, filled her vision. The meticulously constructed wall of indifference she'd built around her heart crumbled to dust. Duryodhana. There he stood, a smirk twisting his features, his dark eyes gleaming with a satisfaction that sent a spike of ice through her veins.