RedCeiling

[Completed]:
Volume 1: Loss of a firm hold.

[Upcoming]:
Volume 2: Intertwined fingers.

[Excerpt]:
"I think I love you," I told him. The feeling of wanting to be with him for the rest of the time started the day he first visited me at the orphanage.

"You do, and I love you too." Then he walked nearer, "Promise me it'll be the two of us," he asked.

"Promise." 

But was that really possible? "I'm technically your sister," I said. We were old enough to understand certain things.

"Adopted." He stressed. "What I asked them was I wanted to you be with me forever. There will be no one to point on that," he said. Were things really that simple? But listening him say them was all I needed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I found out that I was pregnant almost a fortnight ago and which woman does not be happy? I wanted to tell him first and I did. But the reaction he gave made me doubt my entire life. First it was a surprise and then, as I waited for his response, I watched his eyes become happy. But before he smiled, a very small and indecipherable frown appeared and he hugged me tight not giving me a chance to read his face anymore. His breathing was quick and heavy. After he released me, I took in the smile on his face; only, I didn't know if I should call it a smile. All there was in his eyes was a hue of sadness.

"What's wrong?" I questioned him directly. His face changed once again. He seemed troubled.

"Nothing," he smiled and added that he was happy.

"You're not," I stated. He is not a fool to think that I would not know when something is wrong. And he would be more wrong to think that I would let this slip.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Look at me.” I said calmly. He shifted his head but still avoided my eyes. I walked up to him and put my eyes in his line of sight.

“Don’t you know what I mean ‘every day’?”

He took a quick step back. “Jessie, what’s wrong? Why are you like this?” What’s wrong?

An ear piercing sound rang through the room. I slapped hard across the face. Then I noticed that I started crying. Through my blurry eyes, I saw his eyes tearing up too. This was yet another unpleasant first. The first time I was forced to slap him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Are you okay?” I asked him lifting my head to see his face. His chin rested on my head and I still did not have a proper look. I tried to move my head slowly in another attempt, but he held me tight, not letting me move. Was he still crying? Perhaps that was why he did not like me seeing him.

When we were kids and something troubled him, he used to find me to let it out. Crying was included sometimes. He did not hide his tears back then. Because, boys did not particularly cry in front of their girls, I questioned him how he saw this once. It was a playful teasing that I aimed at. But, he gave me a serious and truthful confession in return. Mentally I am the stronger one and he told me that crying in front of me never felt like he was lowering himself. That was his level of acceptance.

But everything he is doing now is in a stark controversy to my beliefs.

He spoke after calming himself more, “I’m not.”

[Target Audience]:
This story has 3 volumes. From the name, it is not odd that this is totally based on love. The first volume is a little tragic, the reason why it is under realistic fiction. If tragic romance upsets you, then this might as well.

**[UNEDITED]**
I didn't proof read all the parts. But I usually keep an eye to check for mistakes as I write. So hopefully there are not too many of them. Will be editing soon.

Struggle Of Love

He did not say anything as he read through the letter.


"Junior manager." He stated. Probably he felt it was just worthy.


"I will be joining in after twenty days," I told him.


"He said it is fine." My tone might have given away that I was a little irritated. He gave me a look that said, well, dad might have just said that not to make you sad.


We stood there in front of his room, with the door left ajar, for a few more moments. Then I suddenly remembered that had to do something, treat my right hand that I used to bang the door before.


I left him with the letter and turned around to tend to my painful hand.


"Where are you going?" He asked with a soothing voice me as he smoothly slid his hand out to gently hold mine.


He put the letter and envelop on his table that was just a meter away in his room. "Why couldn't you just wait?" He said slowly, lifting my wrist as he examined the side of my palm.


Earlier when he saw my hand and did not mention anything, I was sad. He was always sensitive to even an injury as small as a little cut. He must really be upset before. Now when he asked about it, I really did not want him to worry this once. We would be equal. Perhaps, it was because of this that before, I just accepted his attitude.


I did not find any words to answer him. Of course, I could wait. Maybe knock more times and wish to speak with him before dad came home.


"It's fine," I said taking my palm back. It was because of my own guilt. But he looked hurt.


"James, please, the only thing I want is to be with you. I don't want to go anywhere now that you will back."


He sighed out loud. "You're stronger than that."


I turned around and walked the other way from him and locked myself inside my room. He called after me, but what was the point in trying to reason anything with him that moment? He made himself clear that he was not going to budge.


A lot of things have changed since then. That was the last time he had ever been at odds with me. It took a lot of work from both of us to get past that issue. I remember that time as the hardest with him. It is like you want to throw yourself away from the edge, but at the same time you also want to fall into the abyss. It was a decision I had to take between choosing our love and our love. It was something that was inevitable, like whatever I chose, it will have a sliver of negativity in our lives.


Like I said it was a lot of work. In fact, there were times when I wavered myself. I thought I could go to the capital after all. I could always take a break. And just like all these days, we would have made video calls not skipping a day. Maybe I am stringer like he said after all.


But every time I decided to accept going to the university, an unknown fear held me back. For some reason, I used to feel too unsettled to be away from him. I did not think over it much; perhaps it was because I was so used to the idea of us being together once his course is completed.


But now as I think back, my intuition was never wrong. And maybe the fears from very long back are not all unfounded in the face of everything. The situation that I see in front my eyes all these years later is something completely different than what I hoped. I sat there with more and more tears. The memories from the past, one after the other kept rolling without a halt in my mind.


Stronger