Akshada Kashyap

Tragedy

5.0  

Akshada Kashyap

Tragedy

Heathen

Heathen

2 mins
603


They called it a fallen wedding.

It was pitiable, to say the least. It may not have gone as planned, but one thing was for sure, their hollow hearts were finally brimmed with love.

The time was newlywed. Ivy hearts were hanging off the walls, the scene was full of wit. Everyone was awaiting the blushing bride, with her makeup-caked face and shy steps. A sense of sublime lingered in the air.

Gardenia walked down the aisle, hand looped around her father’s. Her Gossamer veil flowed behind her. Her lotus hair was compact in a bun, twirls bouncing up and down with every step she neared her lover. The lithe and willowy figure left behind the sweet smell of lavender. Her feline eyes looked down at her ballerina feet. Her buttery skin was aglow and her sparse lashes made it easier to see the bursting love.

A clop and another.

She lifted her gown up a tad and walked faster, eager to begin her new life: the one she yearned for. Faces carried soft smiles as their eyes wrinkled genuinely. She increased her speed and ran into her lover’s arms. Roan greeted her with perhaps the most amazing laugh ever.

Roan’s rubicund skin went well with his robust and sinewy build. Drunk on love, she stared into her lover’s viridian and pine orbs and twirled the ribbons that lay on his shoulders. She could smell honeydew melons off him.

Time passed by soon, and it was time to finally bind their souls together.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Roan had been waiting for these words forever. He pulled her close and their lips were sealed in the most affectionate kiss.

But perhaps this happiness brought danger among others. Somewhere out there, someone pulled a trigger. The hall was brimmed with chaos; it was the tragedy of their unity. The hallowed ground was bled on. Roan went down, his hands gripping his chest tightly as he looked into his lover’s wheat eyes.

Bereaved were souls and battered were minds. Tears streamed down Gardenia’s face. She looked at the bodies weeping pain, forms running amok in flaming and bittersweet dresses.

The bride yielded – regretted. But it was soon before her face morphed into one of relief. Her blue-tinged lips kissed Roan’s one last time before she fell flat to the ground.

Ache will swallow its own pain. The widowed lovers' and orphans' hearts crumbled.

But not all was bad. Amidst this disaster, the lovers still found each other.

Their heathen hearts finally became one.


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