Talkative

She woke up, still on the floor, but the water had stopped running. She had exhausted the water tank. She slowly got up from the floor, her muscles aching and her head buzzing.

“Shit! I wasted a lot of water” she said aloud. Her voice was groggy and her throat was sore. It felt weird speaking with a dry throat, she only wanted water. She walked to her mirror and looked at her reflection; her eyes were red and puffy, her hair was a wet mass of black, her lips were bluish and her skin pruned (wrinkled).

“I had one good thing going for me and I ruined that too” she said with difficulty and chuckled at herself.

She took slow steps towards the door and unlocked it, leaving a wet trail of water behind her. Every step took a lot of effort, something of which she didn’t much to spare. She looked at the floor of her room and turned back around. She didn’t have the energy to clean the floor so she chose to dry herself first.

Her clothes clung to her body like a second skin, just heavier. Slowly, she undressed herself and dropped her wet clothes on the bathroom floor. She grabbed a small napkin from the shelf to her right. She didn’t have her towel; it was in her bag that she still had to unpack. ‘I will do it tomorrow’ she thought and roughly rubbed away the water from her skin.

Once she was dry enough to not drip water everywhere, she went inside her room. She was naked and cold, and wanted just a huge sweater over her frame, a warm body to hug and to sleep like a cocoon in her bed, wrapped in blankets and blankets.

She closed her eyes to imagine the comfort but as she closed her eyes, her legs gave away. She leaned to the wall for support. She felt weak. Her body didn’t have the strength to carry her to the bed, so she slumped down on the floor right there and rested her eyes.

She wanted water, some water. Her throat was dry and her belly was burning.

Warm hands picked her up from the ground and then held in warm arms. She liked the warmth. She rubbed herself against them, pushing herself as close as she could to the warming machine.

She knew who he was, but she couldn’t put a name on him. So she opened her eyes to find her warming machine. Vansh’s face appeared in front of her. She was confused. The last of her brain cells were frozen to death and she couldn’t understand why he would be here. Then, it hit her.

“Oh I’m hallucinating” she giggled.

“No, you are not” answered a voice that sounded just like Vansh – deep and sexy, and so very seductive.

“Wow, I always wanted to know what hallucination felt like. You even sound real” she said and giggled again.

“Because I’m real” he smiled as well.

“No”

“But I am” he emphasized.

“No, you are not” she said and shook her head vigorously, then moaned in pain and exhaustion.

“And why do you think so?” he asked, smiling. He loved how innocent and cute she was right now; She was fragile and he wanted to take care of her. This made him forget that they weren’t together. It made him forget that he was the reason she locked herself in a bathroom, under a cold shower for more than an hour. It helped him ignore his guilt a little bit.

“Because if you were real, you would bend me over and fuck me. The real Vansh would not be calmly talking to me when I’m naked” she said, her eyes closed.

“You are exhausted; I wouldn’t fuck you like that” he said, offended.

“Maybe you are real; Vansh wouldn’t fuck me like that too. I saw myself in the mirror, I look revolting” she giggled.

She opened her eyes and stared into his as she whispered, “You know, you look so much like him”

He stayed silent and carried her to her bed, and after laying her down went to grab some clothes for her. He found a large sweater and underwear from her cupboard and dressed her in them.

She must have been dehydrated, he thought, and grabbed a glass of water for her. He pushed the rim of the glass to her lips; she gulped half of it and then giggled to herself. He didn’t ask for the reason, he didn’t have the heart to hear more of what she thought of him.

He came here to explain his point but he only messed it up further. She now thought that he believed she took the documents, but he didn’t. He just thought that she had misplaced them somehow, or kept them somewhere and forgot about it, or something like that. He wasn’t accusing her of theft.

He covered her with a blanket and as she dug deeper into it, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to grab her close to him and cuddle. He wanted to tickle her and shower sweet kisses over her. But he could none of that, he could only leave.

With a last parting glance, he started to leave when she called, “Hallucinated Vansh?”

“Yes?”

“Do you talk to the real Vansh?” she asked, her voice gentle but sleepy.

He didn’t know what to answer, so he stayed silent.

“You won’t talk to me as well?” she asked, her voice breaking.

“Of course I will” he answered, her heart broke when he heard the break in her voice.

“Why did he break up with me?” she asked and pouted her cute lips.

“Because you don’t trust him” he stated.

“But I do” she protested.

“You told him yourself that you don’t trust him”

“No, I don’t trust me. I don’t have friends for a reason, he wouldn’t stay long. He would leave. I didn’t mind that, I was okay with it but he had too much control over me, and I was frightened of what I would do when he left me? How would I set my life back?” she asked.

“He wouldn’t have left you” he said.

“He already did” she smiled sadly and extended her arms, “Come here. I’m cold and you are warm” and then she giggled.

“Why are you giggling?” he asked as he climbed under the blankets and held her in his arms. They were facing each other; her eyes were closed while his were gazing at her face. He could feel the slight tremble of her body and her cold fingertips on his arms.

“It’s just funny”

“What is?” he asked.

She opened her eyes and looking in his grey-blue eyes, “Just like the real Vansh, you are warm. Warm is always good, right? So are you. You are beautiful, you are amazing, you are sexy and smart and rich and all things good. And then I’m just like cold, pretty to look at but worthless. And never good for longer duration.” She giggled.

“You are not worthless” he said.

“If you believe that, you are dumb and this is how I know you are not the real Vansh. My real Vansh is smart” she said and closed her eyes with a smile on her face.

She moved closer to him, and as she rested her head on his chest, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his head over hers.

’This girl, who is beautiful beyond doubt, kind with every bone of her body, great with words, a master at roasting, efficient at her work, smart and funny, and she thinks she is worthless.

Is this how god balances the good and the bad? Give the person everything good but then snatch self-love from them. And then bombard them with insecurities and loneliness.

This is not fair’ he thought and rubbed her arms.

He could not let her go down the self-loathing drain, he loved it didn’t matter if she didn’t believe it. He loved her and that was the truth, and the mistake that he made he would rectify it. He would make her his again, but first, he had to find the documents.

She didn’t have it, she didn’t even know where they were, so there must someone else who has it.

It must have been someone from the office, but how could he find them, he thought as he scratched his head.

The gears in his brain started working and after long five minutes he found his answer. Maybe scratching heads does have its uses.

“Camera!” he shouted to himself.

“Of course cameras! I’m so dumb! How silly that we didn’t think of it. When the document went missing, we just assumed it was Shreya because she was missing and she was the last one with the documents.

Cameras! I’m going to check the camera footage tomorrow and then the person who really stole the documents will pay” he mumbled aloud.