NINETY-TWO
Yalda had found herself exploring the Museum of Ancient Art and Erotic, she had read about it before leaving the hotel ealier and she had been curious to see the content it held.
The museum's whitewashed walls and blue-domed roof blended seamlessly into the picturesque Santorini landscape. She was struck by the candid depictions of love and desire on display the very second she stepped into the museum. The interior's rustic charm, with exposed stone walls and wooden beams, provided a unique backdrop for the ancient artifacts.
She was intrigued immediately, bewitched.
Her Yalda's eyes lingered on the ceramic vessels, adorned with scenes of amorous encounters and mythological affairs as she walked through the galleries. From people almost fucking to ample flesh being groped passionately; it had her feeling hot all over.
Her breath faltered and her heart clenced as she stared at a depiction of a woman's throat being choked sensually; it had her mind racing back to times strong fingers had sensually encircled her neck. She could almost feel them right now, applying just the right pressure to make her struggle for breath.
Snapping out of her thoughts, she forced herself to focus on the art and nothing more. The natural light pouring in through the windows highlighted the intricate details of the artifacts, inviting her to explore further. She couldn't help but feel a pang of wistfulness, remembering the raw passion and intimacy she had lived for.
The ancient Greeks' unbridled expression of desire seemed to mock her own emotional dilemma, and the mockery hurt so much, per her even too much. The hurt snuck up on her, one moment she was trying to be calm, and the next she was crying. She clamped her palm against her mouth to muffle the sound as she stood there sobbing quietly.
"Goodness, are you alright?" A lady who had also been intrigued by the art asked on noticing she was crying.
She forced herself to nod though she was anything but alright.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded once more.
Clearly uncomfortable, the lady offered her a reassuring smile before walking away quickly. She dragged in a deep breath to calm herself once more before reaching into her purse, fetching a handkerchief, and carefully drying her eyes.
'You're alright, Yalda.' she tried to tell herself. 'You're fine.'
But she couldn't even think of those words without thinking of him, without thinking of how he'd hugged her several times and told her she was alright. How he'd remind her that she was fine.
She had never really felt anything about her life, but now she felt raw hate; she hated her life, she hated herself, she hated her heart, and she hated her mind. She had foolishly told Alexander that feeling so much made her human, but now, she would give everything to have those feeling taken away, she'd give everything to feel numb.
Deciding to pull herself together, she delved deeper into the museum, she noticed the subtle nuances in the artifacts – the gentle touch, the tender gaze, the vulnerable expressions. The ancient depictions of love and desire were almost a mockery to her vulnerability.
Unable to go on, she had left the museum, and on stepping out, she realized the day was pretty much gone; it was evening already. She returned to the hotel, picked up Loki from the pet-care and then returned to her room. As always, he was excited to see her; it seemed he could never get enough of her.
"Missed you too." She said quietly as she rubbed his head gently. "Had fun?"
Lately, Loki seemed to be all she had, she felt they were in whatever this was together. She had gotten a new phone and a new number right after turning the other one off and throwing it somewhere inside her suitcase; she didn't want to be reached and she didn't want to reach out to anyone, she simply wanted to be left alone now.
Knowing she'd breakdown again if she tried to shower, she opted for a bath instead. And as she soaked in the tub, she tried her possible best to not think about how drastically things had changed; from having a routine she lived everyday to having no sense of direction at all. From having not have to make decisions for herself to suddenly being crushed by the weight of being entirely alone.
She dare let herself ask questions she had been avoiding; had he truly felt nothing for her? Had she meant nothing to him?
She sank, slowly, very slowly, as though she was trying not to let herself notice. It was weird, twisted, but she let herself slide and sink into the tub slowly while pretending not to know. She sank until her head was underneath the soapy water, and she stayed that way.
It was quiet in hear; her mind wasn't blaring all the painful and quiet thoughts she was trying to ignore, her heart wasn't screaming with the ache of what she had become, and her body wasn't yearning to be touch and held by hands that didn't want her, apparently it wss too busy trying not to shut down from the lack of oxygen.
Her lungs contracted painfully until she couldn't take it anymore, and then she jerked upright with a sharp gasp. Her chest heaved heavily as she dragged in air greedily. Her body trembled violently and her heart pounded slowly and heavily against her chest.
Everything came crashing down on her life a wave; the thoughts, the pain, the aching emptiness. She couldn't hold back the sobs that choked her, she let herself sob, she let herself cry. The sounds of her cries bounced off the tiled wall of the bathroom as she clamped her palms against her ears to somehow block of the loud thoughts in her head.
"I hate you." She cried. "I hate you so much, so very much."
But they were just words, meaningless words which she didn't mean at all, and they ached her to say. The fact that she couldn't bring herself to change how she felt about Alexander was the greatest source of her pain.
She had reminded herself countless times that he had broken her without a single care in the world, yet her heart yearned for him still. Everything she was yearned for him knowing he was the only one who could fix her, the only one that could make the pain go away.
"I hate you so much."
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