"Has the surgery started?" As soon as Chase reached the waiting area, it was the first thing he had. Aylwin trailed him closely, absorbed in his own thoughts as usual. Only at that moment did he have any thoughts other than the girl battling for her life.

"Yeah... just a short while ago." Ivy replied with a forlorn look. The ambiance was overwhelmingly dreary and viciously disheartening. The essence of everyone's anxious demeanor could be felt crystal clearly. Aylwin's gaze was drawn to a set of hazel eyes that were all too familiar. He was too quick to recognize the lady, who was peering at him with a multitude of emotions. His eyes drifted to the man in her adjacent seat, who seemed to be in his fifties.

'She looks so much like him.' Aylwin pondered. The resemblance was striking.

The lady beckoned him to approach her. He was flummoxed, unsure of what to do. More pertinently, what should he say? It was as though Karma was backstabbing him sadistically, remorselessly, and vehemently, yet again. But hadn't they done so before? Aylwin would have laughed a bitter laugh, mocking his own fate, but that was a whole different story.

Regardless, he was conflicted as to what to say. That he was to blame for everything that had happened to their daughter? Or that he was mortified at himself because he wasn't able to protect her? Or that he was the one who brought her shitloads of misery? Or that it wasn't his first brush with a mishap? Or that he had always failed those who had put their faith in him? Or the fact that it wasn't the first time someone's life had been put in jeopardy because of him? What? What kind of explanation should he give? Or should he use the word "excuses" instead? He had no idea. Aylwin was utterly clueless. Nothing at all.

He took gentle, tentative steps towards the pair who were gazing at him. Voices were smothered out by stillness. Nervousness loomed over them like a colossal boulder. Mental torture, to be precise.

"Aylwin, right?" Alice spoke out, her voice hoarse from crying and worry. She might well be a psychotherapist with the ability to comprehend anyone's body language and looks. But the guy in front of her seemed to fail her skills. Alice, too, was flabbergasted by his coldness and the shield he carried at all times. She suddenly realized why her daughter was so enraptured with him. Why did her daughter consider him an enigma? Why was her daughter so intrigued by him? She got it all, and she got it well enough.

"Yes, Mrs. Jasper." His tone had gone back to normal, calm and collected. He was quick to uphold his façade, which he couldn't let go for a second. He didn't want to appear flimsy or vulnerable in front of anyone. And Sophronia's parents were the last on the list.

"Now I see why my daughter is so mystified by you." That wasn't a joke or something said to lighten up their mood. It was the truth, plain and straightforward, with no sugar coating, no deception, no doubts, no disdain... nothing but the truth.

Aylwin didn't react. Not in the least way possible. But that didn't mean his heart even didn't. Because his heart did. His mind did. His soul did. He couldn't decide which was more terrifying: the fact that Sophronia had told her mother about him or the fact that she referred to him as a "mystery." Or the fact that His Fresher was trying to find him, struggling to sort him out, to solve him, and, more vitally, love him.

Her surgery had been ongoing for what seemed like hours. The nurses hurried out of the double doors in large groups, then rushed back in. Everyone had their fingers crossed as they awaited the news.

You know what they say? Sometimes the best thing you can do is not think, not wonder, not imagine, not obsess. Just breathe, and have faith that everything will work out for the best.

But again, the thing is—'Pain of the mind is worse than the pain of the body.'

The massive metallic-glassy double doors finally opened, and the doctors' murmurs flooded the area, tightening the strings of everyone's breath. Dr. Slade and the surgeons glanced at the patient's family, who had pain and despair brimming in their eyes.

"Doctor, how is my daughter?" Emmett inquired, his voice cracking slightly. The doctors took off their masks and exhaled deeply, preparing to deliver the news that their ears had been waiting for.

"Mr. Jasper, the operation was successful. The surgery went off without a hitch. Her hind part of the brain is safe, but it's extremely delicate. " Everyone's happiness knew no bounds. She was alright. Their Sophronia was alright. She was safe and sound. That was all that mattered.

"When will she wake up?" Alice asked, her eyes gleaming with love, care, and hope.

But it was all shattered when the doctor spilled forth, "Mrs. Jasper, we are sorry to inform you that Sophronia has slipped into a coma." It felt as if thousands of daggers were aimed at their hearts, piercing them apart into trillions of pieces, ruthlessly. The new pain was beyond words. But it was just the start of it.

"What are the chances, Dr.?" Aylwin's voice boomed across the area. Regardless of the fact that he already knew, he wanted to hear it from the doctor's mouth just to be sure. Everyone was caught off guard by him. How was it feasible for that man's voice to be so calm and collected? How could he be so rough and tough even when His Fresher was in such a precarious position?

But, truth to tell, Aylwin had his doubts as well. How could he still be so strong? It might be because he didn't want to be weak. Or it might be because he had got shitloads of stuff to deal with. Either way, it had always been his way of dealing with his shits. It seemed as though he was unfazed by the situation. Acting all neutral about the situation, as if he could deal with it. As if it was only a way of being strong. But, in the end?

In the end, it simply worsened the suffering.

It was like slow torture.

A bit-by-bit death.

Delicately but teasingly,

A harsh game of pain...

"We have no idea. It's all in God's hands now. We're trying our best, but it's up to her... her to respond. There could be hundreds of complications in her case... Her injuries are fresh, extremely delicate, and healing slowly. Her recovery will take substantially longer due to the tremendous blood loss. Please come with me, Mr. Jasper, so that I can tell you further about her case." With that, Emmett and Alice left with the doctors, leaving the rest of them shocked and tormented.

Aylwin sat in one of the chairs, his fingers caressing the black bar pedant that his Fresher had gifted him.

Sinfully Imperfect

He would have chuckled at her imagination if it hadn't been for the rough-and-tough Aylwin. What was her opinion of him? What compelled her to come up with that idea? He recalled how, when she gifted him the pendant, he never anticipated her doing so. It was the first gift he had received that was wholeheartedly a gift. He had undeniably received many presents, but none had the rawness, purity, and delicacy that she embodied. It was magnificent, all braided to perfection.

"Justification from the heart is the true spirit of the soul, and I love stroking the contours that are as sharp as thorns and as soft as silk. That's all I see when it comes to you. Laden with sins and flawlessly imperfect. In a nutshell, you're... Sinfully Imperfect."

Her precise words stuck with him. All of it was emblazoned in his memories, by heart.

"Laden with sins and flawlessly imperfect."

The amusement that he felt was too hard to keep to himself. He surely knew he wasn't perfect. Perfect? Was that word even valid for a personality like his? What is Perfect? Who is Perfect? What the heck is the whole concept of Perfection? Heck! Aylwin Eldred was anything but PERFECT.

Everyone assumed Aylwin was the King. The Perfect Man. The Perfect Student of the University. The Perfect President of the Student Council. The King of the Tracks. The hottest guy with an angelic face and a sinful body to die for. In short, The Perfect inspiration for the young. Was Aylwin's life, nevertheless, constrained to that? Was Aylwin seriously shackled by those ugly worldly boundaries?

Only if they realized how arduous it was to keep up the act on a daily basis. How extremely daunting it was to act as though nothing was bothering you. How extremely challenging it was to relax for a while and not be concerned about the mishaps of others. How difficult it was to move on when the roots of the past prohibited you from even taking another step forward. How extremely painful it was not to succumb to your insecurities. How hard it was to refrain from making any goddamn mistake but also to avoid everyone so that they didn't get to know you. How awful it was to be the person you had no idea you were. How exhausting it was to keep a façade, but how desperately you wished you could throw it off. How tricky it was... There was so much to say, so much... that the years would fly by, and the tales would keep on going... undeniably, the list would still go on.

That was the thing that haunted him. The way Sophronia could easily see through him scared the living daylights out of him. He was afraid that she could know it all with just a flick of her finger. It was frustrating to the point where he almost lost the battle with himself. His Fresher could see him. The real him. Without any intention. Without any lies. Without any doubts. Without any selfish interest... she just absorbs the whole of him. The moment she laid her glassy hazel eyes on him, he just knew that all the mirrors of so-called perfection were shattered that very instant. It was so obvious, yet such an illusion.

And sins?

Well, she was right. Indeed, correct. Aylwin Eldred was laden with sin. The colossal mountain of sins that weighed on his shoulder knew it better than him. The history of the so-called Perfect Aylwin Eldred, painted with the tints of vivid-blazing crimson, knew it all. Or perhaps, he himself was a sin. Yes, Aylwin Eldred was a walking sin. Indeed, he was a sin.

He eyed the shining blue crystal, which glistened with life. The crystal looked vibrant, as if sparkling with hope, ferocity, luxury, lushness, and life. How contrasting the situation could be! Never in his wildest dreams, had he thought that a day would come when he would be contracting his eyes with a mere piece of material. His eyes, which were a pool of dark oceanic hues, felt lifeless in front of the shining-with-life material.

Yet, he whispered, gently eyeing the pendant with a sliver of silvery tenderness. "She has got a good eye."

Ah, good lord, please note the double meaning of his words!

He opened the door with his eyes closed. He wanted a few moments to himself... to his own solitude. He felt a whirlwind of nostalgia hit him as he stood, unleashing a perfect storm of turmoil within. He took his time closing the door. Then, slowly but swiftly, his eyes fell on the beauty battling for her life in a hospital bed, her eyes closed. Her hand and leg, as well as her forehead, were all covered in bandages. The oxygen mask, along with the blood and saline tubes, were securely fitted. The beeping machines next to her bed sounded like voices intimidating him, how slim her chances of survival were. Reminding him that he might not see her again. Chiding him of how close she was to death. Last but not least, mocking him of how close he was to lose her... forever... and ever.

He inhaled deeply, his hands reaching out to caress her pale skin, which was noticeably paler than it had been. She looked like a porcelain doll, sleeping blissfully away from all the chaos and drama. Just sleeping blissfully.

He recalled how her body reacted to his touches. His kisses. His burning gazes. Everything. He was addicted to her and couldn't decide if it was good or bad. He just knew that he was... and he was in too deep. The depth was increasing, and he felt himself sinking further into it without any objection.

For she tasted like ambrosia,

He was addicted to

Even if it meant turning his blood to fire,

And bones to sand.

"You broke your promise." He leaned in even further until his lips were just mere inches away from her forehead. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips against her head for a few moments, as if soaking up everything she had to offer. He wanted the sensation to crawl through him until it touched his soul, which was dying somewhere inside him. The delicate kiss was imbued with assurance, tenderness, warmth, and love. Unspoken words, unseen gestures, unexpected acts, and unfathomable love.

"Just be alive, Fresher. For me... for us... please. " For the first time, he pleaded with her, letting his emotions reach her ears. For the first time in six years, Aylwin Eldred exhibited something. Something he'd been suppressing for a long time. Something he'd never encountered before. Something he'd never felt before. Something that was so foreign to him. He willingly let himself show them just for her. Just for his Fresher. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him. To let her feel the havoc his heart had wreaked. To let her hear the lamentations of his soul.

He stayed by her side for hours and hours, refusing to go. He was selfish, but he wasn't to blame.

As much as she needed rest to heal,

He needed her presence to live.

Just her mere presence was enough for his heart to beat.

"Running away from reality again, huh?" Austin would have disregarded the words if it had been anybody else, and kept to himself as he always did. That time, though, it wasn't just anyone; it was someone who knew him best. As far as he knew, the closest of all. Who knew him completely, yet was stranger to him.

"That's your job, Azura," He found himself replying to her. His words dripped with venom. He wasn't sure if he'd ever hated somebody so much. He'd done it, of course. Obviously, Aylwin Eldred. He wished he hadn't met her in the first place. The raven-haired beauty remained unresponsive. And for the first time, he realized how much the two people he detested were alike. At the very least, he'd have Sophronia. Sophronia? Hah! The thought alone made him chuckle bitterly. She too chose Aylwin instead of him. How cruel could his life be!

Azura sat there silently watching Austin blame her with his eyes and words. She knew what he was saying, but did he know what she was saying? No, he had no damn idea! He was a coward. He had always been one. Still the same. And to be honest, what more had she expected? Huh! She just wanted it to be over once and for all. She was tired of it all, the whole drama and hatred. First Aylwin, then an accident, and lastly, Austin? Well, it was another long story.

"You don't know anything." As Azura reasoned, but what was its use? When he wasn't willing to understand anything, then it was pointless to explain to him. Still, she tried.

"Oh really? What I don't know? Tell me. You're here. I'm here. Speak then. " He demanded, agitated. Not liking where the conversation was going.

"It was YOU, who left me Austin... when I needed YOU the most. So, for once and all, stop blaming me for everything. " Her audacity? He left her? She needed him? Really? He laughed darkly, clapping his hands, humorlessly.

"Wow Azura, wow! You're saying this as if you didn't know whatever happened that night. As if you still aren't hurting me. As if you are the only one who was crushed all those times. " Azura felt disgusted by the man standing in front of her. She realized how changed he was. What had happened to the young boy she knew ten years back? The sweet, polite, shy, caring boy. Where was he? How had he become so selfish?

"You've changed a lot, Austin. A lot. You know how hard it is to live knowing there's no one out there to look for you? There's no place you can call home. There aren't any people you can call friends. There's no guy who loves you to the moon and back. Damn, I sound so cheesy. Look, this is who I'm, Austin. This is what my life made me. A girl who does illegal things to live her life... miserably... and you're here telling me that I'm to be blamed for it. " She chuckled humorlessly, massaging her head lightly. Austin listened silently, not wanting to say anything. He was too tired with everything happening, just too tired. Or perhaps her words held the rawness of truth in them.

"For once, grow up, Austin. Just accept the life. For how long will you live in the past? It hurts, you know, seeing your only childhood friend in such a miserable state. " Austin was about to speak, but she interrupted, "You can lie to the world, but not to me... What happened... is the past. For how long will you blame him? "

That time, Austin cut her off. His friendship was on one hand, and his hatred on the other. And his hatred, always overpowered. "Stop... just fucking stop defending him. He might be your love, but please keep that to yourself. "

"What do you think? He is happy after what he did. Have you looked at him? He's a fucking statue with no emotions at all. How much has that event changed you, Austin.... that much has it changed Aylwin too... When will you realize, for fuck's sake! " She yelled at him, trying to knock some sense into him. She sighed, closing her eyes slightly before opening them again and gazing into the chocolate brown ones.

"You can't bring them back, Austin. No one can. I'm not telling you to forget them, but hating Aylwin won't even give you peace. Let it go, move on... please... for yourself, for me... for our time. Moreover, Sophronia's condition is killing him..." Austin again cut her off, rudely.

"It's not only him who's affected by her condition. We all are." But his tone made a great revelation for her.

"You love her, Austin, don't you." It wasn't a question but a statement that widened his eyes. He remained silent, not wanting to accept the brutal fact after his love was rejected.

"Everyone thinks that it was an accident, but it wasn't." He tried changing the topic, which perplexed Azura, but as soon as she registered his words, her expression changed. Her face got shadowedby slight panic and something different, much like... fear?

"What do... do you mean?" Her voice had an edgy tone to it. She cleared her throat a little cautiously, watching every reaction Austin had. He seemed quite confused too. He was zoned out, as if recalling the events. It certainly didn't help Azura's increasing nervousness.

Azura and nervousness? You're joking, right? You must be mistaken. I mean, Azura can be a tough queen, a bold bitch, a fierce fighter, a clever mastermind, but never nervous. Those were the words that had always defined Azura and would do so in the future too. But suddenly, what happened to the girl who was known as the Queen of the Tracks. The Dark World. A chaotic enigma who loved being a mystery. What made her so frantic and nervous?