SwaRon OS: Because

He would never go away, she knew that.

She just wished it weren't that way.

*

He sauntered behind her as they waded past the many shops lined on the shores of Goa trying his best to keep the cheery demeanor he had achieved when he had seen her amidst the crowd, cheering them; him. She wasn't her usual self, he had agreed on that. Sh- Bloody hell- His thoughts were disturbed by a huge collection of quirky, big sized spectacles. It took him a moment to recollect himself and when that happened, he turned his gaze sideways to watch her gaze at their friends as they ransacked the shop. He chuckled and his eyes fell on a particular piece. He smirked.

He saw her eyes widen as the heart shaped spectacles peered at her from below. She looked at him, her eyes cold but her cheeks growing warmer and pinker by the second. She'd never cease to amaze him, but never managed to trick him either. The growing blush made him smile but the cold eyes pricked him; which he wave away with a mighty effort at nonchalance and continued looking into her eyes, pouring all his love. She looked away in a fraction of a second.

She could never hold his gaze successfully, how much ever she wanted to. It was no wonder that she walked away, conveniently.

*

She could never hold his gaze successfully, both of them knew that. She'd avert her gaze, earlier in disgust, then in embarrassment and now in total confusion; confusion regarding the correctness of her decision. She was never a great thinker, it was his job. With her it was always an impulse, a crazed hunger to do a thing. So when she saw her future implode at the back of her head, diagnosed with asthma, she was forced to think. Think about her life, dance, friends, him.

"I love you Sharon."

And that had made things even more difficult. He had tied his life to her, through dance and for all she knew, that tie had been severed. And this time, it was neither of them.

She felt her throat constrict, and her lungs pressed against her ribs painfully. She knew it wasn't the emotions but the dreaded ailment which had her wheezing. She cursed, clutching her handbag. Not here, not with him keeping an eye on her. But as her breath came in rasps, she fled, assured that he would follow her.

*

He could see her shoulders heaving from behind. He could sense her discomfort and he felt the urge to help her out with whatever troubled her, only if she would allow him. He sighed, but walked to her, firmly demanding to know what was wrong. It troubled him to see her surrounded by negativity, to see her distressed. He just needed to see her all right.

She snubbed him, his concern and it angered him. So he told her that her attempts to push him away were futile for he was still the lanky, naive weakling she had slapped on the stage; the one who read her through and through, just more confident. He told her he wouldn't back down from this bitter-sweet battle they were in. He told her he noticed her blush every time she caught his gaze and that he loved it; loved her. He didn't say a word but he said it all and she understood his glare.

He could see her shaken composure as she walked away, again.

*

"Swayam!"

It was not a surprise, to either of them, that she chose to cry out his name for protection. He had always protected her, in every way. She knew for a fact that he would always be there for her, no matter how she behaved with him. Thus, she knew she could cling onto his shirt and that his hand would pull her from the water she wanted to avoid.

She wasn't disappointed. Rather, she was surprised when she found herself in his half embrace.

Though she could feel the others singing a mushy love song for them, for once it didn't matter. For once she didn't mind being in his arms in public.

Because he cared for her.

Because he was Swayam.