In the midst of glowing moonshine, a feverish zephyr igniting the firewood, torn webs of enigmas subjugated the ambience, with nascent scented blossoms hit the sapphire of souls. A thoroughly detached frame clung halfway mark, deeply inhaled breathes were tunes sufficed the rocks, marks made foot by foot, a deep gloominess surfaced the comely brute beastliness of the villa. A white piece of cloth flown down the stairs; each step, an embellished one. It tunes down the cascade of breeze, with the hitting of Clavier knocked on all poles.
The rhythmic melancholy shooed away the raw dust, a crook curve of the lips, those shiny strands of eye lashes, they saw nothing just the portrait hanging on the wall of panoply. The stars on her bracelet got in touch with the Clavier, making the music notes of their own destiny, she stopped. She traced the keys and a drop of tear left on her wrist. She hardly breathed," Its time for your payback, My Love".Neither the tear drop, nor the Clavier ever stopped. And never will, until she achieves what she was destined to.
In deep sleep, race of souvenirs chasing his beats, a man of his late twenties, quirked his eyes. His barely rested body started shaking, due to his dreams. In a sullen road at midnight, a girl crashing into his arms, those tears subdued on his wrist, the touch of her on his rock like chest, those deep breathe hitting his nostalgic trauma, the pleads on his feet, her running to unending knots of roads. Chased by the darkness, with him witnessing the brutal slew of her soul. The stars left shining on her bracelet, her icy eyes which haunt his nights, those gruesome words torment his sunshine. Him, facing her in dreams; her, closed in to him; he woke up to his reflect on mirror, tears brimmed on corners; he saw, a portrait of their wedding.He groaned in agony," Its time for your comeback, My love".
A new tale of mystery, how hard one tries, how tears one sheds, how much one craves, the stolen heart needs an answer. The memories linger, running down the time lane, one gets addicted to the love one did. One get attracted to the tale they written. One gets avenged for the sin they had done. Tune in to witness the passionately mysterious tale of Shivaay Singh Oberoi and Anika Mehrotra.
Hola My People!
With overwhelmed heart, I, hereby starting a new tale of Shivika. Hope you all give me your support as you have done so far. I will update the Eyes I loved along with this one on alternative days. Gratitude.
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Loads of louve,
Roshni.
YOU ARE READING
FALLING HARD
RomanceEngorrosed, was I, Dietrich of my soul was, piercing deeply As it could; Coyness buried its dead, bequeath Was all the wonder dreams.
