365 DAYS 365 TALES

Cherry Lips

Her smile was the first thing he had noticed about her. Her bangs had hidden her eyes, but even darkness couldn't truly cover the cherry red curve of her lips.

Half an hour later, his eyes were following her to the dance floor, a shadow she didn't notice. He couldn't help it. There was something about her that made the most decent men want to strut.

His friends noticed his line of sight and teased.

"She is so out of your league, Hrithik. You will have better luck winning a lottery." His friend yelled over the loud music of the club.

He turned to face his five best friends, smirking.

"One look at her, and I feel lucky enough to win two lotteries." He threw in an exaggerated wink.

They all roared with laughter, partly because of his cheesy line, but mostly because of the beers they had already chugged.

He turned to look at her, only to find her eyes fixated on him. Unlike other girls caught staring, she didn't blush, but blew him a kiss instead.

Even as his friends hooted, he weaved his way through the crowd, surreptitiously wiping the sweat off his palms.

And they danced. They danced to songs he never heard before, his feet finding the rhythm his mind was too intoxicated to feel. He could barely believe his eyes, and looked at her with almost worshipful eyes.

She met his gaze with that same captivating smile, before reaching up to whisper in his ears.

"How many more dreams are you going to take before you accept reality? Do you still not remember what happened?" Her words were a bucket of ice-cold water on his drunken haze.

He stared at her in shock as she twirled before him, mockingly laughing. Her cherry lips bled onto her chin, a trail of gleaming red.

He grabbed her by her shoulders in desperation, shaking with some premonition, but his hands met cold marble, and her eyes, sparkling black crystals, faded into a bloodshot charcoal.

"Do you still not remember? Can't you see what you have done?" Her voice, once musical, grated on his ears. He felt someone grab him from behind, and he heard his friends laughing, but something was different.

This wasn't real. He turned, only to find the room full of staring eyes, gazes that accused him of something he didn't know.

He screamed and ran, tripping on pale limbs of what were once people dancing, chased by the chant of "Don't you remember?"

He shot out of the club doors, only to open his eyes and stare at the white ceiling of his bedroom, panting heavily.

"Hrithik. Hrithik! What happened? Why are you screaming?" His worried wife peered into his face, searching for answers.

He could only gasp, unsure of what just happened. His parents walked into the room with worried eyes, averting their gaze from the lost man on the bed.

"He has been like this since his friend's bachelor party. He doesn't remember anything, but memories have a way of coming up in dreams." His wife explained in hushed whispers, softly handing him some medicines.

He fell back against the bed, already drawn into another vivid nightmare. The last thing he saw was his wife's cherry lips turning upwards as she stepped away from his bedside.