Melissa Crumpton is a ruined remnant of the once-angelic girl. Contrariwise, Kevin Archer decamps the drudging slavery to grow into a small rate successful artist.
When the artist lays his eyes on a ruined redolent young woman, he thinks of bringing...
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Melissa's PoV:
I was hibernating. As if from the other world, I heard Julie trying to wake me up. People who wake others while sleeping should be punished with consequent sleepless nights. I rolled around, irritated. To add another layer to my irritation, my bed became less comfy and was even pricking at places.
"What the heck," I opened my eyes in frustration to see leaves and twigs being spread on my bed. Hell!
It took me seconds to discern where I was.
"Finally, you're up," I turned towards the voice to find Bharathi sitting on a rock opposite to the stony bed I was in and reading a book. The room was lit with a good number of lamps that glow brighter than usual. She was in a regular denim jeans and a white tank top. So, no uniform today!
Following that, another realization hit me.
Arghh, how could I misunderstand Bharathi's voice for Julie's? Was I missing Julie already? It hadn't been a day yet. With pique, I rubbed my eyes violently.
"What happened?" I asked her uncertain. She shut her book and got to her feet. Her words reached me slowly as she walked to reach me. "You passed out instantly when we entered in. We carried you and made you sleep here. You slept all night and almost half a day."
With no way of sun entering into the under-world we were in, I didn't realize it was that late. Our brains are too cunning. As soon as I realized the delay, I felt famished.
Putting the fact of me being starving aside I asked hesitantly, "We includes? Who brought me here?" I needed one name to be mentioned.
"Me, your friend Josh and our Austin," she said non-sceptic and cool. I was happy at the mention of Austin. But the preceding 'our' part was niggling. But before anything, a feeling of embarrassment overtook me.
"I pass out a lot," I murmured, feeling down. She sat beside me and said, "You know why? You're an over-thinker. You think too much for everything. Your brain just goes exhausted from spending all your energy for the superfluous thoughts you have."
More than her answer, her tone surprised me. She was very sure about her words. Indeed, it sounded relating. I knew I do think a lot. But how did she know? How could she be so certain?
"It hasn't been two days even. How can you judge me?" I asked. Apparently, that wasn't the right choice of word.
"I'm not judging you," she said still calm. How could everyone here be calm? Well, except Austin. "You've been the same from your very young age. I've always known you," she completed.
That reminded me of something. "You seem to know everything. You know my brother. You know me. You know my problem. You call Austin, 'our Austin.'" I realized that last part was unnecessary.
