ANGEL
Silence settled between us again, thick and unmoving, like the rain outside had seeped into the room and filled every empty space. He had stopped playing the songs, and I had stopped picking fights—at least for a moment.
“As usual, your food tasted gross,” I muttered, breaking it, because I never knew how to let silence stay for too long.
He didn’t reply.
He just sat there, his gaze fixed on the rain sliding down the window, as if it held something more interesting than anything happening inside this room.
I watched him for a second, then looked away, but my mind didn’t quiet down. It never did.
A random thought crossed my mind, sudden and sharp.
What was her name?
“Mr. Justice saviour,” I called, unable to keep my mouth shut even when I knew I probably should.
He hummed in response, like that ridiculous name had already become something he accepted.
“What is the name of your ex?” I asked, my tone casual, but my eyes watching him closely.
He turned to look at me, his expression tightening slightly, like if he had something in his hand, he would have thrown it at me just to shut me up.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then—
“Eliana,” he muttered.
The name lingered in the air for a second.
I hummed, letting it settle.
“Christian?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
He nodded faintly.
“You are a Hindu and she is a Christian… if your relationship had worked, would your parents have accepted it?” I asked, my mind already building the situation ahead of him.
“They wouldn’t have… but I might have convinced them,” he said quietly.
“How?” I pressed, not letting the conversation end.
He exhaled slowly, his eyes still not fully meeting mine. “I might have told them I would marry no one except her… and remain alone until they accepted it.”
A small, almost amused breath escaped me.
“So stubborn,” I murmured under my breath.
“And if they still didn’t accept?” I asked again, pushing him into the corner of a past that clearly still held weight.
He sighed, the sound heavier this time.
“A situation came where you had to choose between her and your family,” I said, watching him carefully, waiting for the answer I already sensed.
“I might have chosen her,” he said, his voice softer now… and broken in a way he didn’t try to hide.
Something in me paused for a second.
I didn’t expect that.
I let out a slow breath, leaning back slightly. “Whatever. She cheated on you,” I said, shrugging it off like it didn’t matter.
“I know it already. You don’t need to remind me again and again,” he replied, a quiet irritation slipping through his voice.
The room fell silent again.
“I’m not getting sleep,” I said, irritation slipping into my voice like it always does when I don’t know what else to do with myself.
He leaned back slightly. “What do you want me to do… sing you a lullaby?” he asked, his tone carrying that familiar mockery.
I scrunched my nose immediately. “Who wants to hear you sing?”
A brief silence followed, but it didn’t feel sharp this time. It felt… lighter. Strange.
“See, I’m so sportive,” I added, flipping my hair as if I deserved some kind of award. “I’m talking to you even after you left me alone in a shop.”
He turned to look at me, properly this time, his eyes holding mine for a second longer than usual.
“I’m also sportive” he said, mirroring my tone almost perfectly. “See, I’m talking to you even after you threatened to kill my family.”
For a moment, I just stared at him.
And then—
A soft laugh almost escaped me before I could stop it.
It felt unfamiliar.
Like something I wasn’t used to feeling anymore.
I breathed out slowly and turned my gaze toward the window, letting the moment pass before it became something else.
The rain hadn’t slowed down.
It poured endlessly, as if the sky had decided not to hold back anything tonight. The droplets hit the ground with a rhythm that felt both calming and restless at the same time.
Unpredictable.
Just like him.
One moment, everything feels normal.
The next, it shifts into something else entirely.
One moment, he leaves me behind like I don’t matter at all.
And the next…
He sits here, talking to me like nothing ever happened.
I watched the rain trace uneven paths down the glass, my thoughts following them without direction.
Nothing about this made sense.
Not him.
Not me.
Not whatever this is between us.
And yet…
For some reason, I didn’t look away.
“You hadn’t moved on from her, did you?” I asked, my voice quieter this time, but still carrying that edge I never seemed to lose.
He looked at me. Properly. Not irritated, not avoiding—just looking.
“I moved on from her,” he said, his tone steady. “It’s been almost two years since we broke up.”
Two years.
And still this?
Still these songs.
Still that look in his eyes.
Still that silence that carries something unsaid.
Do men like this actually exist?
I let out a soft sigh, shaking my head slightly. “Then why are you listening to all these songs?” I asked, genuinely not understanding anymore.
“Listening to sad songs doesn’t mean I’m still stuck with her,” he replied, his voice sharpening just a little, like he was tired of being misunderstood.
I didn’t argue immediately. I just watched him for a second before shaking my head again, not fully convinced.
“It’s not like I’m feeling for her,” he continued, this time slower, like he was choosing his words carefully. “It’s just… when I hear some songs… I remember her. That’s all. That doesn’t mean I still love her.”
There was something in the way he said it.
Not defensive.
Not angry.
Just… honest.
Like he was trying to explain something that didn’t sound right even to himself.
I leaned back slightly, my eyes still on him, my thoughts quieter than before.
“So you don’t love her…” I murmured softly, more to myself than to him.
“If you’re bored, you can talk about a thousand other things in the world… not about my past,” he said, his irritation finally surfacing, not loud but firm enough to draw a line.
I chuckled softly, leaning back like none of it mattered. “It’s interesting, bro,” I muttered, a grin spreading across my face, careless and teasing.
His eyes widened slightly, as if I had said something completely unacceptable.
“I am not your bro,” he said, looking away immediately, almost like the word itself annoyed him more than the topic.
I tilted my head, watching him, that grin still playing on my lips.
“No… you are my bro,” I said again, stretching the word deliberately.
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, clearly done with me, clearly refusing to react the way I wanted him to.
But I didn’t stop.
Because something about this—
This small, meaningless argument—
Felt lighter than everything we had been carrying all day.
For a brief moment…
It didn’t feel like we were two people tied together by force.
“Don’t call me bro,” he said, his tone sharper this time, like he actually meant it.
I frowned slightly, not understanding why he was making such a big deal out of it.
“Why? I call everyone bro,” I muttered, shrugging it off like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Even my niece… even that grandma I saw in the shoe shop.”
He turned his head slowly, staring at me like he couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed or just give up completely.
I didn’t stop.
“I’m habituated to it,” I added, leaning back on my hands casually. “It’s a universal term. Bro means everyone.”
He let out a dry breath, shaking his head slightly as if I was beyond explanation.
“Relax, bro,” I said again, stretching the word just to irritate him.
He closed his eyes briefly, like he was trying to gather patience he clearly didn’t have.
The silence that followed wasn’t heavy.
It was almost… playful.
“I am going to call you bro from now onwards,” I declared dramatically, raising my hand in the air like I was making some historic announcement.
“First one to call my own husband as ‘bro,’” I added, a soft chuckle slipping out of me.
He didn’t reply.
But I saw it.
That small, almost invisible twitch at the corner of his lips.
My smile faded instantly.
Not because it disappeared…
But because something else took its place.
My heart started beating differently, not fast, not slow… just unfamiliar. Like it didn’t know what rhythm to follow anymore. A strange flutter spread through my stomach, light yet unsettling, like something had shifted without my permission.
He almost smiled.
Almost.
And that “almost” held more weight than a full smile ever could.
His lips didn’t curve completely, but his eyes…
They changed.
They softened in a way I hadn’t seen before. Not guarded. Not distant. Just… quiet.
For a moment, I forgot everything.
Why we were here.
What we were.
What we had done to each other.
It all slipped away, leaving behind just that one fleeting expression that didn’t belong to the man I thought I knew.
He wetted his lips slightly, like he realized something too, like he caught himself in that moment.
Then he stood up abruptly.
“Oh shit,” he muttered under his breath, breaking whatever that was before it could turn into something else.
He walked toward the candle placed on the table. It had melted almost completely, the wax pooling at the bottom, the flame flickering weakly but stubbornly, still holding on, still giving us light.
I watched him as he leaned closer to it.
And I sighed softly.
I took his phone in my hand, turning it over for a second before dragging my finger across the screen. Without thinking much, I traced an “A” through the dots.
The phone unlocked.
Of course it did.
I didn’t even react to it. I just turned the torch on, the white light cutting through the dimness as the candle behind me struggled to stay alive.
He had already walked out of the room.
Without his phone.
Idiot.
How is he even going to see anything in this darkness?
I let out a quiet breath and followed him, my steps slow, careful, the light from the phone stretching shadows along the walls. He didn’t notice me. He was too focused, too lost in whatever he was doing.
He bent down near the drawer, pulling it open, his hands searching until he found another candle.
Just as he turned—
He froze.
And then—
"AHH"
A small, startled sound escaped him. Almost like a suppressed scream.
I flinched instinctively, my grip tightening around his phone.
For a second, we both just stood there.
Caught.
Between darkness and that sudden light.
A laugh burst out of her before she could stop it, bright and uncontrollable, echoing softly through the dim hallway.
“You—got scared, right?” she asked between her laughter, her voice teasing, light in a way I hadn’t heard before.
“Stupid,” I muttered under my breath, brushing past her as I walked into the kitchen to get the matchbox.
She followed me, holding my phone up like some personal spotlight, the beam of light moving with her as she trailed behind, still laughing to herself like this was the funniest thing that happened all day.
“You are scared of me,” she said again, this time more certain, almost proud.
I shook my head in disbelief, not even bothering to look at her properly.
“You are wearing this white dress,” I muttered as I struck the matchstick, the small flame coming alive between my fingers. The candle caught fire slowly, and the glow spread, soft and golden, brushing against her face.
“So you thought I am a ghost?” she asked, a hint of offense slipping into her tone, her brows pulling together slightly.
I didn’t answer.
Because I knew if I did, it would only encourage her.
“People say I look like an angel in white,” she added, lifting her chin a little before giving a small twirl, her dress moving lightly around her.
The candlelight softened her features, the shadows playing gently along her face, her laughter still lingering in the air like something alive.
Something unguarded.
My lips threatened to curve.
I bit down on them quickly, forcing it back before it could fully form, before she could see it, before it could mean something.
I turned away immediately and walked back to the room, placing the candle on the table, fixing it into the melted wax so it would stand steady.
“You look like a devil,” I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for her to hear.
“Excuse me?!” she shouted from behind, her voice instantly rising, irritation replacing that laughter as quickly as it had come.
I didn’t turn back.
But the faint pull at my lips…
Took a little longer to disappear.