Chapter 59: 52 | Unsettling Uncertainities

Love Unrushed! | ✓ [Under Editing]Words: 47051

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Aditya's Pov.

My heart thumped in wild madness as I sat at the edge of the bed, my gaze transfixed on the washroom door. The room which was earlier filled with her laughter and giggles now brimmed with undying tension rendering me incapable to breathe.

A sharp pang gnawed my insides when her soft cries passed through the confines of the washroom door, piercing into the sanity of my thoughts.

Unknown to me, a thin layer of sheen covered my eyes reminiscing the moments we shared a few minutes ago. Even with the dimmed glow in my eyes, my lips managed to curve up as my mind replayed her giggles from before, the bewitching pair of twinkling eyes, her tinted cheeks, and her mesmerizing form.

The room echoed with a myriad of voices but in a place where there is no sound of her hearty laughter and her thrilling shrills, silence seems to overpower them all; a daunting silence that is too vast to comprehend.

Picking up our discarded clothes, I placed hers on the chair after which I wore my shorts. As I walked towards the washroom door, I couldn't help but wonder how did we reach this? How did the moments of passion transcend into beats of discomfiture and insecurities?

Wiping the forlorn wetness pooled at the edge of my eyes, I knocked softly at the door,

"Riya?" My voice strumbled to come out, relying on a defeated whisper.

Her sniffles halted abruptly, no words transpiring behind the closed door.

"Hey." I voiced a little louder this time, hoping for a response,

"Come out now, it's okay." My voice faltered when she silently broke down again, wordlessly losing me in the abyss of dismay.

The walls around her heart seemed impenetrable, shielded from my reach.

Running my palm over my face rather haphazardly, I spoke a bit harshly this time,

"My t-shirt and shorts are hung behind the door, quickly get up and wear them. I need you out in another minute before I decide to barge inside." The vulnerability in the air was suffocating and so does her silence. When she didn't come out after my forewarning, I held the knob, determined to have a glimpse of the woman of my life.

Before I could turn the knob, motion happened from the inside, ceasing the movement of my hands.

Seconds later, relief flushed to my senses as the door revealed opened. Though the ease soon washed away witnessing the disheveled state of my wife.

Had things gone as per the flow, I would have been contented and satiated by this sight of her.

But when have things happened as per our plans? When have situations unfolded as we dreamt them to be? When have insecurities and fears won over our vulnerable selves? And when has the heart become so strong to witness one's love envelop itself in a blanket of guilt and remorse?

Only if love was so easy.

The air amidst us felt heavy, almost choking. Despite the void of a few minutes, it felt like an eternity since we basked in the warmth of each other.

My gaze took in her state as a lone tear escaped her eye, tracing the path down her cheek, gradually coalescing into the seam of her lips.

Witnessing the mix of pain and disappointment swirling in her eyes, I failed to fathom how easily conversations could transmute into uncomfortable initiations and unfamiliar stances.

How unexpectedly the moments of happiness could transform into traces of insecurities and trepidations.

I took a step closer, gliding my palm to hold her cheek. Caressing my thumb across the wet surface, I swiped away the remnants of her tears.

"Do you want me to take you to the bed?" I whisper asked after a lapse of unsettling silence. Her eyes refused to meet mine though she nodded a few moments later.

When I didn't initiate any movement, she raised her eyes, peering at me through the curtain of her eyelashes. Together, we shared a deep breath as our eyes found comfort in the tranquilizing pools of the other. Maybe it was a wordless assurance to confront the uncertainty that lay ahead and accept how situations unfolded amidst us.

Dragging my palm across her arms, my palm found its way to her hands, grooving within the empty spaces of her fingers. My grip on her hand tightened as I smiled feebly at her before I trudged a step toward our bed, and she followed me with gentle footfalls.

I perched across the edge of the bed, pulling her over me so that she could rest on my lap. Seamlessly, she molded her frame into me, cocooning herself in my embrace. I gently brushed a strand of wet hair away from her cheeks, my fingertips grazing against the softness of her skin.

My lips didn't back away as they touched her forehead for a lingering kiss. She exhaled a deep breath of exhaustion before weaving her fingers with mine.

Her touch was like a butterfly landing on a flower, bringing a sense of delicate comfort and tenderness.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, carefully weighing my words.

If anything I have known about her in the past few months then it's the timing to discuss the issues with her. It has always been a complicated stance to decide when could be the right moment to let her discuss her predicaments freely with me.

She might showcase maturity in a couple of instances but whenever situations turn out to graze her in a judgemental stance, she would be surrounded with an uncanny fragility and delicacy.

"No." The response was swift. However, the way her voice quivered and the manner she rounded her arms around my torso, was enough to prove the contradiction between her response and thoughts.

"Upset?" I gazed down at her, smiling at the way the warm glow of the midnight light illuminated her face. The dim light of the night lamp rippled upon her dusky skin, gracefully accentuating the outline of her face, thus bewitching me in the trance of her ethereal beauty.

"No." She mumbled, shaking in my embrace.

"Angry?"

She stared at me, a hint of offense whirling in her orfices at my question.

"No."

"Hurt?"

"Humiliated." She sighed harshly, her words stiff and cold as she looked away in the distance. Despite the facade of indifference she intended to reflect on her face, the underlying embarrassment and insecurity still managed to overrule her features.

"I don't see anything here that made you feel humiliated." I stated with a stiff undertone, tipping her chin to allow her to peer at me.

She let out a sharp sigh and peered at me in disbelief.

"Every other woman has in her lifetime undergone this pain and discomfort, Aditya..," She began, her doe-eyes glistening with a sheen wetness,

"So why did I find it so difficult to bear what all women gracefully bear for the love they have for their partners? Am I that fragile to not endure an ounce of ache or am I that weak from the heart to have felt ignominious towards my inability of it?" She sobbed silently, hiding her face in my chest. Her sobs and quivers echoed in the room until she couldn't take it while my palm remained behind her back, stroking soothing strokes against her spine.

"Stop blaming yourself, Riya." I chided softly unable to take the disappointment and humiliation lacing in her tone.

"We both know that the first time could be painful and uncomfortable for some women, in some cases men too. Give some time, give yourself some time, and let your body adjust to this foreign sensation. We would work through this, together. This is natural and nothing that is a part of nature's plan can be humiliating." I attempted to explain while her mind remained distracted as her nimble fingers traced random circles over my palm.

When she rewarded me with silence, I pulled my hand away from her hold, urging her for a verbal response,

"Maybe." She mumbled, still unconvinced.

"You have been so patient all the while, this was the least I could do for you. Had I managed a bit more endurance, the situation would not have taken an unpleasant turn." Her tone rippled with guilt as she shut her eyes in exhaustion, defeatedly planting her cheeks across my chest.

Shaking my head at her stubbornness to prove herself in the wrong, I raked my mind for other logical explanations only to have nothing come out.

A while later my face brightened with a triumphed smile as a frisky thought crossed my mind,

"They say, practice makes a man perfect." I enunciated in a raspy whisper and she immediately looked at me, gaping at my words.

Smiling in amusement, I continued, tracing my index finger tantalizingly against her arm,

"More the practice, sooner the perfection and higher the pleasure, oh, lots of pleasure." She shuddered as I rasped in her ear, a deep crimson coating her cheeks.

"Shut up, Aditya." She whined in vexation, glowering at me.

"I am being tensed here and you are diverting my attention."

"That's the plan, my spitfire." I murmured against her head, raising her hand to press a gentle kiss on her knuckles,

She sighed in defeat, giving in to the warmth of the moment.

"Thank you for always being there for me." A hoarse whisper fell past her lips as she met her soft gaze with mine.e

"Wherever you are, whether in the good or the bad, you would always find me there for you, beside you. I promise." I whispered gingerly before meeting her lips for a profound kiss.

**********

As we lay together in the peaceful oasis of our bedroom, wrapped in the warmth and tranquility of one another, I could now fathom the pertinence of emotional intimacy over the physical one. We might not be able to consummate today, but this night, this moment would forever remain etched in my heart, despite the discomforts and disappointments that led our way towards the end.

After all, how could not one value the beauty of this seraphic moment?

Underneath the silvery cascade of the moonlight glow, today I was bestowed with the completeness of our relationship, the long overdue confession, the ensnared making of our love, and the tranquilizing specks of her embrace.

"You are not asleep?" My wife's gaze darted at me in question, her brows scrunched in curious confusion.

"Not feeling sleepy." I murmured, grazing my palms along the length of her bare torso.

She nuzzled closer into my chest, righteously plopping her legs over my thighs with a thump.

"You know.." I began after a few minutes of pacifying silence. Turning to my side so that my front was settled against her front, I nudged her closer so that she could adjust her legs over me and bought my palm to her waist, enclosing it in a loose grip.

"Ji." She peeked at me in attention, keen on listening to my midnight slice of conversation.

"When I saw you for the first time, you had me enraptured in your simplicity since then." I whispered, fondly tracing the contours of her face while her lips tugged upward in a bashful smile,

"Blue was never my color, perhaps because it had never appeared so captivating before that day." I murmured over her lips, kissing the luscious pair briefly.

She giggled heartily, shaking her head,

"Oii Mister Forgetful, I wore maroon the day we first met not blue." She knocked over my forehead, narrowing her eyes into threatening slits.

"Mhm." I shook my head in dismissal,

"Blue. Navy blue to be precise." My lips curved up into a wide grin, recounting the night when I first caught a glimpse of her.

Her perturbed gaze found my amused ones in an attempt to decipher the meaning behind my words.

"You had me knocked out ever since the day of Purva and Rishabh's wedding, Riya." I confessed with all my heart, the smile on my lips unwavering.

She looked at me stunned, her mouth flung agape in bafflement.

"H-how?" She stuttered, blinking rapidly, presumably struggling to reminisce about any chance encounter amidst us on the day of their wedding.

I rolled my eyes, fazed by her question,

"What how? I am his brother, I was there at his wedding, and you seemed to catch my eye." I knocked over her forehead this time.

We are equal now. Not all women have fingers overly soft as fiction describes, some women have like hers.

Like tiny pieces of iron rode.

"Not you vaise, your voice, your laugh, and your giggles during the ribbon-cutting ceremony." I sighed dreamily, tracing teasing spirals over her bare waist.

Her lips parted and closed a couple of times but nothing spluttered out of those sensual pair of lips.

"I couldn't see you that time though but I did see you from the back a while later where you being the Princess of Hoshiarpur and the future Queen of Delhi were busy galloping sooji golgappas at lightning speed."

Her hands slapped over her mouth in realization, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Ooh! That's why the first time we met after our roka in Delhi, you mentioned me wearing traditional at Purva's wedding. You dodged off the conversation then by stating that you saw the photograph of me during their wedding! " She exclaimed, her orbs enlarging an inch more in realization.

"Hanji." I grinned, tugging her closer, my palm skating to the underside of her bosom.

"Then?" Her inquisitive self prompted me to speak further,

"Then what? My mind was knocked and my senses were blocked the moment I saw you coming along with Purva. It was an ethereal sight, after all." I whispered, raising her hand to press a chaste kiss on her knuckles.

She blinked, once, twice, and thrice before glaring at me,

"Did you plan the proposal of our marriage after that?" She demanded, puffing her cheeks to showcase her agitated state.

"We were meant to be together, Riya." My finger looped around the stray strand of her hair as I played with the silky tress for a few seconds before tucking it behind her ear.

"Even before I could think of planning anything of that sort, massi already talked to Mom regarding our alliance."

"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier, then?" Her palms grazed my shoulder in soft strokes, her intoxicating gaze holding mine in a mystical embrace.

My mind raced for an answer while she continued to study my face and reckon my expressions,

"I don't know, honestly." I confessed,

"But I do know that we were on the road towards building trust with one another, relying on each other to share our experiences, our vulnerabilities, and our inhibitions without fear of judgment or doubt. I did not want to overwhelm you at that time when we have just begun to see each other in a different light. Because there was a high chance you could have misconceived the whole scenario as a planned one." I breathed, tracing the seam of her parted lips,

"Even if it seems like there was nothing serious to worry about, I was terrified to take even the smallest chance at the time. Especially when you were involved, I couldn't afford to take any risks." I ended with a hoarse whisper, leaning my forehead against her.

"We might have started our love story much sooner had I seen you that day. But too bad, you missed the chance of courting me." She tsked, irrationally haughty of her magnetism.

"Chal oye." I scrunched my nose in distaste,

"You might assume yourself to be a princess or a queen for that matter, but that is entirely not the case in reality."

"With due respect, I beg to differ, sir." Her voice turned thick and her posture straightened as she preambled in a royal stature.

There she goes.

I sighed inaudibly waiting for the drama to unfold.

"You have been mesmerized by my sight the day your eyes fell upon me. While the antithesis happened because you..," She lunged her finger into my chest,

"Miserably failed to even catch the eye of Miss Riya that night. And, this happens only when the mighty queen and an ordinary commoner are involved." She smiled smugly, oddly satisfied at the justification her mouth presented.

"I am ordinary?" I growled, dragging her form closer, my fingers digging into the side of her waist.

"Ji bilkul." She bit the inside of her cheeks in an attempt to restrain her smile.

"I am a commoner?" I probed again, a chance for her to rephrase her answer.

"Of course Mr. Commoner!" She bobbed her head, her eyes fluttering innocently.

"Acha." I nodded slowly and she reciprocated by mimicking my expressions.

"Let me show you what this commoner can do to this queen." I pounced over her wildly and she shrieked in mortification, throwing her legs in the air as I blocked her movements and hovered above her.

"Oww oww oww!!" She squeaked as I cuffed her hands under my hold.

"Say it again, now." I threatened, my fingers tracing her waist, all set to stimulate a tickle.

"You are my King, my lost prince, and my dear husband." Her eyes held the fear of being the prey of my undying tickles.

"Oh no, my Mighty Queen. Not a King for sure, I am just a commoner." I snickered wolfishly before plunging my fingers into her waist and all her weak spots. Soon the room reverberated with peals of her hearty giggles and carefree laughter. My heart flared in immense contentment as a few tears rolled out from her eyes. Though unlike the tears of dejection, she experienced over an hour before, this time, they were tears of happiness.

My happiness.

************

Riya's Pov

"Good Morning." A very sensuous voice of my dazed husband fell into my ears making me turn around and peer at him with a coy smile.

"Good Morning." I wished softly, suddenly feeling skittish under his ardent gaze.

Every time he looks me in the eye, it feels like he is peering into my soul, understanding me in a way no one could. And maybe no one ever will.

"Come here." His voice was smooth as velvet, bringing chills down my spine as he extended his palm in my direction, prompting me to come closer.

My insides felt illy-willy before I took a step closer to the bed. Clasping his open palm, I sat right next to him, leaning against the headboard at the edge of the bed.

"You are awake early." His eyes darted toward the wall clock while my hands skated to glide my fingers into his messy locks.

I sifted through them brazenly and he hummed in pleasure,

"Hmm. I have to go to the market today with mumma and Isha to buy some essentials for my college."

He nodded, yawning a bit, "When are you starting?"

"Next Monday."

"Okay." He murmured enclosing his palm around my wrist before pulling me softly over him.

"You smell so good." He sighed deeply, sniffing my neck which was enough to provoke a trail of goosebumps over my skin.

"And, you smell horrible." I scrunched my nose in displeasure, attempting to pull away from his hold.

"Rude." He muttered, unfazed by my attempts. Crossing his legs over the back of my legs, he secured me in his cage.

"This is not a very comfortable position to cuddle, I suppose." I presented my discomfort with the way the upper half of my body was propelled over his torso and the lower half was enclosed under the hulky weight of his legs.

"Very much comfortable for me." He disregarded my discomfort rather ruthlessly and pressed a chaste kiss beneath my ear.

"Hmph." I exhaled in lassitude and squirmed a bit before adjusting myself over his body.

If he wants to crush himself under my weight, I don't mind.

We lay there silently for a few moments, the exhaustion of last night washing away gradually.

"How do you feel?" He asked softly.

"Better." I smiled, kissing his neck.

"Good." He murmured with a delicate sigh.

"Do you think the family might have heard us last night?" I wondered aloud, mortification coating my senses at the mere thought.

"Doing what?" He asked, his voice brimmed with a tinge of amusement.

I moved my face slightly away from his chest to throw a dagger at him,

"I am serious here."

"I am serious too. What did we do last night?" His eyelashes fluttered in mock innocence.

"Yaar, I would be doomed had Kunal or Isha had the slightest inkling of last night. They will not live in peace without teasing me and you are making a joke out of it." I whined as the scene of their sly smirks and frisky coughs crossed my mind.

"Ohho, they all were sleeping downstairs that too in the same room. No way they would have heard us." He explained, measuring my hair on the back with the expanse of his palm.

He is obsessed with my hair.

"Hmm, But still.." My sentence was rendered incomplete at my husband's interjection,

"Lae, even if they heard us, so what? They have married us, this is the foremost thing they would be expecting from a newlywed couple that too at night."

He wriggled his brows teasingly,

"God, you are unbelievable!" I exclaimed, astounded by his blunt remark.

"Lae what unbelievable, in a month or two you will see both our moms asking for a grandchild." He added, not at all helping me calm my frenzy thoughts.

"Maa has already started the plan a baby chant." I muttered, shaking my head as the conversation I had with her the other day played in my mind.

The movement of his palm over my hair halted,

"Hain?" He asked, befuddled.

"Aur kya. I told her we are not planning it until the next two years." I responded, nuzzling my face into his chest, feeling somnolent all of a sudden.

He hummed after a pause of a few seconds. Silence blanketed us for a while before I spoke,

"Do you mind?" I bit my tongue, realizing I did not ask his opinion on this matter before blatantly stating my opinion.

"I don't mind sooner."

"But you will be the one carrying it, so unless you don't feel ready, we don't need to pressurize ourselves." He murmured against my temple. I smiled in gratitude knowing well how much he loves kids and how eager he is to have one, yet he preferred to choose my consent over anything else.

"Aditya." I called out in a gentle whisper.

"Hanji." He drawled lazily.

"I love you." I caressed his cheeks languidly, my eyes betraying me to express my love for him as a thin sheen began coating my eyes.

"I Love you." His lips tugged up at the corners as his fond gaze never wavered off my face.

His smile was as warm and radiant as the summer sun, casting a glow upon the room that made my heart skip a beat.

"You are thinking something." He stated, raising his eyebrows when the room echoed with our silence yet again.

"Nothing, just random stuff." I shook my head, not letting him my unsettling thought about last night.

"Okay." He voiced softly, running a soothing hand down my back.

My insides clenched in dismay for the way we struggled to dodge all the unsaid and undiscussed that transpired yesterday.

No matter how hard he tries with his frisky teasings and his smiles of reassurance, it couldn't obscure the layer of disappointment and unease blanketing his features.

A heavy sense of hopelessness settled over me like a mist of suffocation as we stood on the escarpment of uncertainty, staggering at the brink of a diverging moment.

Sexual Compatability. Such a fancy word but equally intimidating.

Unfortunately, it isn't as dreamy as it seems. It comes with a set of trials and tribulations, a lot of patience, shared understanding, and unwavering trust. And, this is where most couples struggle, presumably not in the beginning but certainly in the future.

Today, indifference might have worked in defense of our lost selves, but the insecurities and perturbations remained present, lingering in the back of our minds.

My heart needed him, and my mind screamed for his mere touch.

Alas, my flesh was too overpowered by the shadows of insecurities that it wants to repel his proximity, it wants to resist his touch for I knew if the events of last night reappeared, I wouldn't be able to look at him in the eye, I wouldn't be able to bear the disappointment reflecting on his face and I wouldn't be able to tolerate his patience fading.

********

A deafening scream reverberated in the walls of the room halting Aditya abruptly.

My arms skated to my abdomen, clutching it tightly in a failed attempt to soothe the writhing ache. He pulled out of me gently, his eyes holding a flicker of terror.

The discomfort in my southward region was as sharp as a razor, cutting through every movement. The stabbing pain felt like a repeated jab in my core, leaving me in utter agony.

For the past ten days, we have been constantly trying to consummate. However, the ending remains the same, leaving us with clear disappointment and dismay.

Disturbingly, even after multiple rejections, he has been as patient as he could be the whole while, loving me with all that he has in him.

His loving grazes and his intense kisses, his teasing fondles to his frisky squeezes, his wild nibbles, and his playful tugs were enough to teleport me into a paradise of pure bliss and euphoria.

But as soon as we proceed to the last part, screams and cries were the only consequences, drowning me in the abyss of guilt and slowly asphyxiating me with a chasm of shame.

As tears stung at the corner of my eyes, the sea-like calmness on his face washed over with waves of hopelessness.

The bleeding did begin almost three days ago but the pain has worsened, intolerable to the extent that every time he tries to enter me, it feels like a shooting pain coursing through my veins. The sharp spasms of ache felt like a series of fiery arrows, relentlessly drumming through my every pulse.

Tonight, Aditya flatly refused to proceed to the last part, yet on my persistence and for my sake, he made a hopeful attempt. Alas, he only received a rejection in return.

Despite his unwillingness for a force, I pestered him to enter a bit harder this time for I thought maybe a moment of pain and it will be over for good. However, the pure euphoria that men and women claim to be, the pleasure I longed for was nowhere felt. All that was numbness followed by a shrill jolt of pain.

Waking from my transient stance, my gaze darted to his. The letdown on his face for the umpteenth time felt like a punch in my gut, knocking the air off my senses.

"I don't think we can do this now." He whispered feebly, helplessness leaving his voice like a burning crash. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes as he gently rolled off me to lay on my side.

Time slipped and I was too consumed in my guilt that I failed to realize I was now covered in his clothes, wrapped in the cavern of his warm embrace. The sharp twinge was still present, though the ache my soul felt recognizing yet another failed attempt was much deeper and agonizing.

"I am sorry." My voice trembled, the feeling of despair hanging over me like an impregnable wall, thwarting any sense of progress.

As I recalled the piercing scream I let out a few minutes ago, the echoing sound was enough to dim any flicker of positivity that I longed to foresee.

My eyes drifted to him and my heart clenched witnessing his distant gaze fixated on the ceiling, lost and perturbed.

His breathing was soft but his heart thudded wildly beneath my ears, spiking my core with an undeniable force.

"It feels like I am doing something wrong to you." He voiced weakly after a lapse of uncomfortable silence.

Contrary to the gaze which was always filled with warmth and mischief, tonight his gaze held an inexplicable fear. The boyish amusement that always danced on his features was now filled with unsteady somberness.

"It doesn't feel right when, w-when I love you." His lips quivered sharply.

"Please, don't say this." I looked up from his chest and palmed his cheeks. He did not respond but rather kept looking heavenwards in distance.

"Don't drown me in any more guilt Aditya, more than I already am." I murmured dispiritedly, shakily tracing the ridges of his face.

His palm hovered over mine as he leaned into my touch, drawing a sharp exhale. Placing a chaste kiss on the inside of my palm, he enunciated,

"I can't stand to see you in pain, Riya, especially when I am the reason behind it, whether intentionally or unintentionally." He leaned the side of his forehead against mine, a tinge of guilt swarming his tone.

"You are not the reason." He reprimanded with finality,

"I am the one to be blamed for. My body is not ready yet to endure the pain. If anyone is at fault then it's me!" I roared, agitated by his assumptions to blame himself for no fault of his.

"It's almost a week now Riya, and your pain has only worsened over the nights. Every time you scream in pain, it breaks me for making you go through this turmoil, both physical and emotional." He exclaimed, rubbing his face tiredly.

"It's okay. It will be better, so said that right?" I whispered suppressing the sense of defeat drowning my soul.

"Time is what it all takes, isn't it? This too shall pass." I smiled in encouragement, threading my fingers in his stray locks shielding his forehead.

"We need to visit a gynecologist." He declared, not wavering off his stiff stance.

My body stilled when a plethora of possibilities trampled over my senses. Stress swirled in my mind like an intractable whirlpool, dragging me deeper into the chaos of its turbulence.

"We need to see." His tone came off much more stringent and uncompromising this time given the lack of my positive response. His heated gaze also left no room for arguments.

"Answer, Riya." He probed, tipping my chin to match his challenging gaze

"Okay." I mumbled, defeat palpable in my tone.

My temples pounded with a relentless drummer allowing my free hand to rub over them.

Hardly a second later, his palm encompassed mine, massaging my temples in a soothing motion. I melted under his calm touch, nestling closer into his chest.

"Everything will be fine, Riya. It's just a way for us to know a little more about our bodies." He pressed a feathery kiss over my head swarming my heart with a gazillion tantalizing sensations.

Gratitude filled my heart for he is everything that I hoped for and everything that a woman could dream of.

I wouldn't mind being called selfish if I say that I was in love with the optimism he carries when it comes to me. It was like an oasis amid adversity, a blossomed flower in the middle of the barren land.

He might not be perfect for the world, but his perfection for me was the only trait I saw in him.

Despite the heated arguments and unmatched thoughts, unending expectations, and superficial fantasies, unnerving insecurities, and overwhelming inhibitions, he has effortlessly succeeded in redefining what perfection is

In the midst of uncertainty knocking on our doors, I fathom today that perfection isn't flawless for it coexists with the imperfections of life.

It sways on the realm of hopes and aspirations yet ardently desires to strive for supremacy. It exists in an imperfect balance of dreams and hopes, joy and pain, acceptance and reticence.

It isn't a utopia but a reality perceived by the beholder.

**********

Eleven days.

Since I started my job.

Since we got intimate.

Since he initiated any move.

Since my moves were reciprocated.

Had the situation been normal, I would have been hopping like a child, ecstatic by the sense of fulfillment bought by teaching. I would have danced in joy, enthralled by the serendipity of getting back to work.

But the unpleasant turn of events in the past few days has taken away the contentment and satisfaction teaching always suffused me with.

The gynecologist we were supposed to visit had been out of town and would be only available for appointments by tomorrow.

In the meantime, Aditya has declined every indication of intimacy initiated on my part. He has been distant and closed off, with limited and monosyllabic responses.

I wonder if he was saving me from the heartache or him, or maybe both.

"Good Morning Ma'am." I was pulled off my trance when a first-year student wished me as I passed through the corridor.

An amused smile split on my face as I wished this nerdy boy back, "It's good afternoon now."

"Oh!" His button nose scrunched in embarrassment as he stuck his tongue halfway out, slapping his forehead out of reflex.

"Good Afternoon Ma'am." He scurried at the speed of light, probably mortified as this has been the third time in two days he did the same. A low chuckle erupted in my throat as my gaze lingered on his retreating figure.

Shaking my head, I walked in the direction of my next class, taking in the view of the campus. My gait slowed when my gaze fell on the sight of the bustling group of students rushing to their classes, animatedly cribbing over the past lecture. The sound of laughter and chatter fills the air as jokes were exchanged within a stream of students.

As I ventured further, a smile tugged upon my lips stumbling upon a bunch of young lovers, trudging leisurely towards the classes, savoring the moment for themselves.

A mirage of contrasting mindsets buzzed in the hallways with the intellects occupied in actively discussing notes, the bullies in spluttering unstoppable curses stopping only when they saw me, and the introverts carefully observing the surroundings.

I managed to cross the phone freaks who were engrossed in frantically swiping over the phone screens. Lastly, there were these chatterboxes breathlessly rumbling about practically anything contrary to the lost ones, lost in their own world.

Needless to say, there exists an unexplainable innocence and oblivion possessed by the students entering this phase. There is a deep urge to explore everything that comes their way, a strong yearning to taste the freedom this opportunity of life brought.

There is a bizarre desire to indulge in all that has been prohibited, all that was earlier restrained.

Then there are dreams in their eyes, goals and aspirations in their words, and the hunger to conquer all the odds in their actions.

Ah, this phase. Exhilarating yet equally terrifying.

Because a wrong step, a faulty company, and a pleasing whim produce the perfect recipe for their minds to be embittered.

I so wish I could convey to these little, curious minds that there is plenty of time to know the unknown, explore the unexplored, and love the unloved.

I hope they cherish every positive that comes their way and learn from every impulse decision they make. Not a web of lies and justifications but I wish acceptance and admittance become their best friends in this unexplored experience of life.

I wish they embrace this pivotal journey and learn to seek support while they navigate through the hurdles and challenges of life and that when they leave this place, they leave evolving better leaders of tomorrow.

*******

"Good Afternoon." I beamed, my gaze drifting to the chaos of BBA students scampering back to their seats.

"Good Afternoon Ma'am." Some hollered while some squeaked in a rush making me bite the inside of my cheeks in amusement. It turned into a grin when a few students were half-standing, and some still lost in their world of dreams.

It was already Saturday today, implying the student's lesser motivation to study. This was always an unsaid rule in the previous college I worked to not teach the students on weekends.

It was pointless to try to teach something that the students were unwilling to comprehend and I'd prefer not to waste my time or theirs by pushing them to absorb something they weren't motivated to.

Before I could initiate a word, my brows raised in curiosity as a few students constantly nudged the girl on the third row, glaring at her furtively.

"What happened? What's the commotion?" I posed, my gaze now fixated on the bunch of students seated on the third bench of the right row.

"Uh-uhm, Ma'am." The girl in question started,

"We were thinking if we could, like uh...," A discreet nudge was jabbed again in her arms when she paused for a moment.

"Ma'am they are asking if we do not study today as it's Saturday and the strength is also very less." My gaze drifted in the opposite direction, to the owner of this brazen voice, impressed by the unmatched confidence she wore in her words.

"Sure." I acquiesced, angling my neck to the former girl,

"I know I am new here but please feel free to put forward your thoughts with me. I would try to understand your concerns as much as possible." I smiled with ease,

"Efficient learning isn't possible unless there exists mutual coordination, isn't it?" They nodded in agreement,

"And not only teaching, this applies to all sectors and all forms of life." I stated, ignoring the last bench of students who has been snickering mindlessly since the beginning of the session.

"Yes ma'am." Bright smiles boomed on their faces as a sense of relief washed over them for not having to study.

"But, I am not letting you use your phones." Their lips pulled downwards in dismay as if I was depriving them of their food.

Shaking my head at their addiction, I continued,

"We are going to have an activity today on personality development."

The ears of inquisitive minds immediately perked at the mention of activity while the socially awkward ones has terror-filled in their eyes.

The indifferent ones remained unconcerned, not so discreetly using their phones underneath the table.

I wonder if these students have an inch of an idea that we teachers intentionally overlook plenty of fractious things they do and for which they foolishly feel accomplished to have outsmarted us.

"Okay." I sighed, smiling comfortably at each of them, bringing their attention to the front.

"The activity is pretty simple. You all are given ten minutes from now to come up with any one object or living being that you feel relates to yourself. In case, you struggle with how that object/living being relates to you, you can express what it portrays about human nature."

As I spoke, my feet ascended the stairs in between the rows which separated the class into two halves. Reaching the second last bench, I tapped lightly over the table.

The sudden intrusion jarred the student out of his reverie for his eyes were focused on some game. He mumbled a quick sorry and fished the phone back into his pocket.

"Any doubts?" I quizzed, sauntering to the front of the class, glancing at the students for any questions.

"No ma'am." They spoke in unison before some of them quickly pulled out their notebooks, pondering over the activity.

Ten minutes soon turned into twenty as the usual request of two minutes more kept coming my way.

"Okay. Come on, time's up now." I declared with finality in my voice. Some peered at me in pretend innocence so that they could get a few more minutes while some glanced with satisfaction whirling on their features.

"Yes Shubham, which object have you defined yourself as." I smiled at the most active boy in the class.

He scratched his head, suddenly speechless,

"Uhm, a painting?" He answered that came out more like a question to himself.

I nodded, encouraging him to speak further in an explanation,

"Like, people perceive a painting in a variety of ways, some call it an artwork while some a random waste of time. Some see sadness in between the colors and some peace even in the monochromic views." He played with the pencil, a reflection of his nervousness,

"Hence, I relate to the painting because it is all about how people look at me. I might come off as outlandish for the way they judge me, or I might come as a dreamer for them for the faith they have in me. It's all about perceptions that make us judge people in the first stance, which might not always hold true. It's always the artist and the painting who knew the actual meaning behind the art." He spoke in one breath, shrugging lightly.

"Very Impressive!" I exclaimed, thoroughly contended by his answer.

Activities like these not only allow these young minds to explore more about themselves but also entitles us to have better clarity on human mindset and human nature.

"Okay, whose next?" I probed and panic morphed on the faces of a few students who might be internally praying to not let me take their name.

When no one initiated, I called out to the girl at the right whose face vividly depicted her interest in answering yet her overpowering apprehension was restricting her to raise her hands.

"Your name?" I asked.

"Anisha, ma'am."

"So, Anisha, what object or being do you relate yourself to?"h

She fidgetted with her hands, unease coating her senses. I blinked my eyes softly, allowing her to go ahead,

"It's okay, come on." I smiled.

She breathed inaudibly and voiced,

"A box of color ma'am." She eyed me timidly, the lacking sense of confidence palpable. My lips curled looking back at her because I was the same at her age, too fearful of speaking up about anything. But time has its own role to play, you master the one thing that you always feared the most.

"There are so many colors in a box, but despite their uniqueness of hue, they are immensely adaptable. They blend with other colors effortlessly and seamlessly, bringing a whole new shade into existence. Similarly, I feel I am adaptive to the emotions of other people as I empathize with them easily. I try to feel the pain when they are hurt and I laugh along with them for with their happiness." My face gleamed with joy at the beauty of her words,

She gazed around, confidence suddenly spiking witnessing the attentive gaze of the class,

"Also, like every color depicts a different meaning and mood, so does every human share a different perception and emotion each day. On days, they might be in the brightest shade while on other days, they grovel in darkness, struggling to see a ray of color, a ray of hope." She ended, her eyes twinkling with a surge of confidence, satisfied by how her words came out.

"Such a beautiful answer! Keep up the participative spirit." I complimented enthusiastically.

Time passed and a mirage of answers followed. From sunsets to books, watch to rainbows, the answers were thought-provoking.

"Okay, we will take only two more now." I announced, glancing at my watch for the remaining time before the class ended.

"Yes, Agnay." I nodded at the one at the front who appeared to be too lost since the beginning.

He sighed in silence as his gaze remained fixated on the board as if struggling to put words to his thoughts. When his friend nudged him softly that he came out of his trance,

"I relate myself to a bird ma'am." He said feebly, his words stumbling with an unknown shakiness.

My throat constricted at the hopelessness coating his eyes,

"Birds." He started with a pause,

"They don't have a direction, nor do they have a destination. If they fly, they fly aimlessly, erratically, and haphazardly. If they are caged, they are trapped and helpless, powerless and defenseless. They change courses, are unaware, unknown, and unstable as to what life holds for them." He passed a strained smile and I reciprocated with an understanding one.

He expressed less, but his words held volume. Without describing how he relates to it, he did tell a lot about himself and his predicaments. My tongue swiped over my lips, silently hoping for a gleam of light in the dark tunnel of insecurities he was heading into.

"Ma'am?" The girl in the last raised her hand making all eyes turn up to her,

"I want to answer as well." She spoke with a distinct determination.

"Sure." I nodded in affirmation.

"Bird." She stated and I looked at her in confusion.

"I don't relate myself to it but that's what I want to relate with human nature." Her gaze fleeted to the right, to the back of the same boy who previously answered.

"Same answer?" I quizzed.

She shook her head, murmuring a soft no,

"For me being a bird represents freedom and liberty. Despite being aimless, they are endowed with the ability to explore life. From rising sunsets to sinking sunrises, chilling winters to the breezy summers, starvation to sustenance, they witness the reality of life, each day, every day." Her gaze flickered to the boy repeatedly as if directing the explanation to him. When the latter turned around to peer at her, her gaze softened and so does her voice. She continued, her gaze blending his,

"Being a bird symbolizes the resilience to come across the atrocities of life, yet soaring high every day. It demonstrates the perseverance and optimism to break free from the quagmire of traps for every chance known. Hence, to be born on the ground, I strive to fly in height. Unrestrained and uncontrolled, yet tenacious and sanguine." A pair of intense resolution matched with another pair of sullen darkness, yet hope flickered in the eyes of the latter, glowing in the illumination of the former.

The class ended with an appreciative clap and yet again, today I step out of a class taking a new set of learnings and perceptions. My lips brimmed with a buoyant smile in hopes of a better tomorrow and a newfound clarity.

*********

It's confounding how less we know our bodies and how unconcerned are we towards the happenings of the same. The impending visit to the gynecologist was finally done.

Hymen.

The infamous H word, the one we and most people believe to be intact before consummation, the one we nonsensically believe that it effortlessly pops open from the center during sexual intercourse.

It's the same H-word that oh-so-graciously transforms a girl into a woman completely.

How wrong!

I wish, the understanding was as simple as this or we amateurs could have taken a bit more time in learning more about our bodies. Had this been the case, we would have known, it wasn't just a simple pop-up but rather a gradual tearing of the hymen.

Unlike the normal hymens we were accustomed to hearing, hymens take multiple forms, shapes, and sizes. There were various types and each comes with its own set of restrictions and limitations.

Dr. Jeenat informed us, unlike the normal hymen, I had the Microperforate hymen which usually leads to troubled intercourse and difficulty in easy opening because this almost completely covers the opening to the vagina, restricting any foreign entry.

The solutions were simple, surgery for the removal of the excess covering or a lot of patience, foreplay, lubes, and warm-ups.

We opted for the latter.

*************

In all my nakedness, as I lay coddled in the heat of his bare body, I couldn't help but smile at the ease and positivity with which we attempted to consummate tonight.

We knew that the pleasure isn't going to be immediate and effortless, rather would need time and forbearance.

Therefore, despite the unsettling moments we have been sharing for the past three weeks after the intercourse, tonight, the whole stimulation felt much more peaceful and at ease.

The pain didn't eliminate, it was still there, piercing heavily in my lower body, yet, my hopes,

They were soaring high.

***********

Heya buddies!

I know this was not the usual breezy chapter! But this is what life is!

I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter to the fullest and that you could feel the pain and predicament the leads were going through!

Please drop in your views on the chapter because this is the only motivation for my writing.

Also, which object do you relate yourself to? And why?

Lastly, did I mention that maybe one or two chapters more and it's a wrap!! Any suggestions for the coming updates will be heartily welcomed.

Your reads, votes (⭐), and comment mean the world to your author. Hence, shower them to the fullest.

Until Next Time,

Love,

R❤️

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