Aanya’s POV: I think I am dead. It is not the best statement in the world, but nonetheless, it is the truth. The last thing I remember is the unbearable pain in my shoulder, and trying to move my shoulder now seems like a bad idea since I can still feel the unbearable pain. I don’t know if it is a good sign, but I am not dead. Do I pity myself? Maybe. Looking back, it was a hard week. Fuck that, it has been a hard life. If my life was put in a graph people could probably see how bad my life went but I know out there, there is someone who went through more pain than me. More torture than me. My eyes felt heavy like it was stuck together with super glue. I heard the continuous sound of the heart machine beeping. The things I would like to do to that machine. The bed I was in felt like stone, it was the most uncomfortable bed I have ever slept in. With a bit more determination and strength, I opened my eyes to a ceiling that is made of polystyrene square laid on a grid frame. The lights
Aanya’s POV: It was a sight to behold, with its sleek black exterior gleaming in the sunlight. The car was low to the ground, hugging the pavement with its sharp angles. The doors opened upwards, like wings, revealing a plush leather interior with bucket seats and a high-tech dashboard. The engine purrs to life with the slightest touch to the gas pedal. It was the kind that turned heads wherever it went, a true symbol of luxury and power, but not anymore. The sight beholding Lamborghini was not screaming luxury or power anymore. Rather, it was screaming trash. Same with Aston Martin. Aston Martins was a stunning work of art with its white exterior. It had a low profile and a long, elegant body. This one's door also opened upwards, revealing a luxury interior with plush leather seats and a high-tech dashboard. The car engine hums softly, ready to leap into action at the slightest touch of the gas pedal. While the Lamborghini symbolised luxury and power, this boy excluded class and s
Aanya’s POV: As soon as we reached NYC, we booked a hotel for a week and got some rest. The flight was tiring. We thankfully got a room together for all of us and the first day was spent cooped up in our hotel room, eating junk food and watching different series. The next afternoon we were all charged up and all of us were struck by the energy and excitement of the city. We spent the whole day exploring Times Square, taking in the bright lights and crowded streets. We sampled street food and shopped at local boutiques, taking advantage of the unique experience that NYC had to offer. On the third day, we visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art, walked through central park and took a ferry to see the Statue of Liberty. We again tried new foods and explored different neighbourhoods, taking in the sight and sounds of the city. As time went on, we all bonded with each other very well, I and Ann also bonded well over our common interest in designing. I bet we all looked like 5 crazy te
Evan’s POV: “What did you enjoy? That you trashed my car for fun? Or that defied me? Or is it that you like New York? Huh, what did you enjoy?” I questioned her right after we got to the room and closed the doors. Behind these closed doors, she looked so small, so fragile. I could see the fear swimming in her dark black eyes. Black usually reminds me of my soul, my tortured past but her eyes remind me of the whirlwind of emotions she makes me feel and only one other person could do that. The human being in front of me made me want to experience things that would usually be my destruction. Yet her scent alone makes me feel different. I can feel the hot burning molten lava pumping through my veins as I look at her with so much hate and disgust. They are not for her, they are reciprocated to me. I hate myself for allowing myself to feel like this but I can’t help it. She stumbled back as I took a step towards her. I was looking at her like she w
Aanya’s POV: I can’t stop it. The fire is dominating my whole body, not stopping one moment. My body and heart are working against my brain and my consciousness. Yet I have never felt so passionate about anything more in my life. “No. Not Today. Not EVER. Right now, I am going to use you, and nothing or nobody is going to be able to stop me.” We are crossing a dangerous line. A very dangerous one. If we go on to do this, it will end up as nothing but a one-night stand and the rest of the months as awkward. But the lust and passion we feel for one another is uncontrollable. I was leaning against the kitchen island with my long hair wrapped tightly around his hand. He is looking at me like he is studying me, every inch of my face. He is fully clothed yet I can feel his throbbing dick pressed against my wet cunt. All those years of dreaming about my first time turned into nothing on that night and I never let myself feel another touch from another man. Today I want to feel it. All of
Aanya’s POV: “I… I haven’t… erm…” I never knew it was this difficult to speak. Actually, I knew, and I always had difficulty speaking to other people about everything. “Yeah…" You know I haven’t had… sex for a while now!!” Now, it was his turn to be immobile. Something in his eyes changed. He looked… hateful. I am happy enough to take someone’s life. “I am sorry. I really am. I will clean this up and get ready.” I got up from the island and jumped down, and stood up. Well, I tried, but it clearly hadn’t worked since I am literally leaning onto Evan’s body with his hands wrapped around me. He picked me up bridal style and walked into the room he went into before. We went into the bedroom first, where he put me down on the bed and wrapped a blanket around me. He picked me up again and took me inside the washroom, and sat me next to the sink. He walked next to the bathtub and started filling up the water and putting on some scented salts. “I am sorry. I really am. I know you hated
Aanya’s POV: It’s been at least 2 weeks since the day we gave in to each other. After coming back, we resumed what we always did. There is no awkwardness, but the feeling of something different hits me new. I always used to think I was naturally born awkward, a trait I got from neither of my parents. I couldn’t talk to a new person for more than 4 sentences. After that, it’s like I got stuck in between whether should I continue or should I embarrass myself. There was this time in my life when I used to let my life wrap around other people, and it still does, but I am able to control myself. My TikTok fyp used to be filled with the saddest little thing, yet I don’t change it. At night, behind closed doors, I sit there and cry. I cry till there are no tears, I cry till I am dehydrated. I cry so quietly that I wonder so much if I will have someone wrap their arms around me and secure me. Life is like a thunderstorm, never a time in what can happen to your life. Happiness is a choice
Evan’s POV: I have been thinking of ways to ask my wife out for the past few days when the bombshell fell. I feel so disgusted with myself, knowing that it was one of Aanya’s friends who was the reason I cut off my ties with her. I felt a connection with her at some point but never in love. That’s absurd. Never had that feeling for the past decade or so. I want to run behind Aanya and explain myself, but I realized there is nothing to explain. There is no reason for my action other than hating our arrangement at the beginning. I feel unadulterated rage in my core, spreading to my veins and bones. I know Charlotte only did this for her own gain. The woman was more than cunning, and I myself never knew why I kept her around. “Why?” “I want you back. I realized I love you too much to let you go!” “Love?! What do you love about me?” “Everything and you!!” Everyone speaks about the last moment before death. The feeling of bright white light. Endless space. White clothes. I wonde