MaYa
Wellknown Ace
Unfinished Yet Beutiful - 4
That morning, there was a pleasant smile on her face, a happiness she had never felt before. A joy of completeness. She glanced at her phone and saw his call was still going on, a long eight hour call. She couldn’t bring herself to disconnect it. Instead, she waited for him to wake up, lying on her bed with a smile, eagerly listening for his voice. There were faint murmurs from his side, and then, after a few minutes, a sleepy "Ahh" escaped his lips.
"Good morning," she said softly.
"Ah, good morning," he replied in his raw, drowsy voice. "Enik kurach thirakk und, Amma vilikkunnu."
"Okay dear, have a pleasant day," she said, and the call ended.
Two days passed in anticipation, and finally, they met again. Same night, same craving for each other's presence, but this time, they longed for something more real. They wanted to see each other, to witness the emotions in their eyes. They turned on their cameras, and for the first time, there was no distance between them—only a screen separating their longing gazes.
Their conversation flowed endlessly, weaving between laughter and hushed confessions. He sang for her, his voice pulling her into a trance. Her eyes followed the movement of his lips, imagining how they would feel against her skin. She bit her lip, her breath turning heavier as the night deepened.
"It's late," he murmured, his voice lower, warmer.
She nodded, her fingers tracing the edge of her pillow. "I wish I could sleep on your chest tonight," she admitted softly.
His eyes darkened, his breath hitching for a moment. "You can imagine it," he whispered. "Close your eyes and feel me beside you."
She did. She let her mind drift, imagining the heat of his body, the rise and fall of his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist. She shivered. His voice, thick with desire, reached her ears.
"You're beautiful," he said, his gaze never leaving hers.
Her cheeks burned, her heart raced. "I want to stay like this," she breathed.
"Then stay," he murmured.
They watched each other, bodies sinking into a dreamlike haze. The need, the pull between them, was undeniable, yet restrained by the cruel reality of distance. Still, in that moment, they were closer than ever.
Slowly, their eyes grew heavy, their voices turned into whispers, then silence. She placed her phone on the side window beside her bed, while he rested his on a pillow.
The next morning, she woke up to his half-open eyes, already looking at her, waiting for her to wake up. She smiled.
"Good morning," she whispered.
He let out a gentle laughter in response.
Something felt different. Sleeping and waking up beside a man, even through a screen, was an unfamiliar yet beautiful experience. That day at work, she caught herself smiling for no reason. Something within her had changed, but she wasn’t sure what it was. Or perhaps, she was intentionally avoiding the truth.
That evening, they chatted for a while. She was about to start a new project, which meant her schedule would be busier, and their usual late-night conversations might not be possible anymore.
"If I can't call you during our usual hours, will you forget me?" she asked hesitantly. "I will have my friends around as well for the next few days until the project is over."
"Don't be tense," he replied. "Aren't you comfortable chatting with me, or do you only enjoy our calls?"
Her voice was heavy when she answered, "I just want to spend time with you. Call, text, anything is fine. I just want you beside me."
"Then what's the issue? I'm here. You can come to me whenever you get free," he reassured her.
His words calmed her heart. She felt safe.
Days passed, and her work took over her life. Six days went by without entering the chatroom. On the seventh day, she finally returned, her eyes searching desperately for him. His words echoed in her ears, "I will be here." But he wasn’t.
She waited in silence, speaking to no one. Patiently, she watched the screen, hoping he would log in. He didn’t. Not that day, not the next. Fourteen days passed, and still, there was no sign of him. Others in the chatroom started asking if something was wrong, but she had no answers to give.
Now she knew. She understood who he was to her. His disappearance left a void no one else could fill. It created a madness in her, an aching love, an emptiness that was slowly consuming her.
That morning, there was a pleasant smile on her face, a happiness she had never felt before. A joy of completeness. She glanced at her phone and saw his call was still going on, a long eight hour call. She couldn’t bring herself to disconnect it. Instead, she waited for him to wake up, lying on her bed with a smile, eagerly listening for his voice. There were faint murmurs from his side, and then, after a few minutes, a sleepy "Ahh" escaped his lips.
"Good morning," she said softly.
"Ah, good morning," he replied in his raw, drowsy voice. "Enik kurach thirakk und, Amma vilikkunnu."
"Okay dear, have a pleasant day," she said, and the call ended.
Two days passed in anticipation, and finally, they met again. Same night, same craving for each other's presence, but this time, they longed for something more real. They wanted to see each other, to witness the emotions in their eyes. They turned on their cameras, and for the first time, there was no distance between them—only a screen separating their longing gazes.
Their conversation flowed endlessly, weaving between laughter and hushed confessions. He sang for her, his voice pulling her into a trance. Her eyes followed the movement of his lips, imagining how they would feel against her skin. She bit her lip, her breath turning heavier as the night deepened.
"It's late," he murmured, his voice lower, warmer.
She nodded, her fingers tracing the edge of her pillow. "I wish I could sleep on your chest tonight," she admitted softly.
His eyes darkened, his breath hitching for a moment. "You can imagine it," he whispered. "Close your eyes and feel me beside you."
She did. She let her mind drift, imagining the heat of his body, the rise and fall of his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist. She shivered. His voice, thick with desire, reached her ears.
"You're beautiful," he said, his gaze never leaving hers.
Her cheeks burned, her heart raced. "I want to stay like this," she breathed.
"Then stay," he murmured.
They watched each other, bodies sinking into a dreamlike haze. The need, the pull between them, was undeniable, yet restrained by the cruel reality of distance. Still, in that moment, they were closer than ever.
Slowly, their eyes grew heavy, their voices turned into whispers, then silence. She placed her phone on the side window beside her bed, while he rested his on a pillow.
The next morning, she woke up to his half-open eyes, already looking at her, waiting for her to wake up. She smiled.
"Good morning," she whispered.
He let out a gentle laughter in response.
Something felt different. Sleeping and waking up beside a man, even through a screen, was an unfamiliar yet beautiful experience. That day at work, she caught herself smiling for no reason. Something within her had changed, but she wasn’t sure what it was. Or perhaps, she was intentionally avoiding the truth.
That evening, they chatted for a while. She was about to start a new project, which meant her schedule would be busier, and their usual late-night conversations might not be possible anymore.
"If I can't call you during our usual hours, will you forget me?" she asked hesitantly. "I will have my friends around as well for the next few days until the project is over."
"Don't be tense," he replied. "Aren't you comfortable chatting with me, or do you only enjoy our calls?"
Her voice was heavy when she answered, "I just want to spend time with you. Call, text, anything is fine. I just want you beside me."
"Then what's the issue? I'm here. You can come to me whenever you get free," he reassured her.
His words calmed her heart. She felt safe.
Days passed, and her work took over her life. Six days went by without entering the chatroom. On the seventh day, she finally returned, her eyes searching desperately for him. His words echoed in her ears, "I will be here." But he wasn’t.
She waited in silence, speaking to no one. Patiently, she watched the screen, hoping he would log in. He didn’t. Not that day, not the next. Fourteen days passed, and still, there was no sign of him. Others in the chatroom started asking if something was wrong, but she had no answers to give.
Now she knew. She understood who he was to her. His disappearance left a void no one else could fill. It created a madness in her, an aching love, an emptiness that was slowly consuming her.
