You were the wife of the king of India,Aarav. You loved him deeply that it hurt sometimes,he was the most sweetest,bravest man you’ve met. Thought he was impatient at times but you would it silly and funny when he would get upset when some would interrupt you two. You did feel bad for leaving him though,it was so cold and lonely where you slept. Aarav looked so lonely and tired nowadays. Aarav would only go out of his room to help those in needed if it was important or if he needed food. Yet even if he still ate,he looked so bony,like his body was wavering away. Why is he like this now,because you are dead,you died from sickness earlier on and now he is like a depressing sack of potatoes. You were still in the same bed you died in as you always saw him trembling each time he wrote,on his desk. He still slept with you,quiet and sad like a boy without food. Aarav came back into the room from being gone to eat,as he slowly walked over to your bed and climbed on top of you carefully. He looked down at you and placed his finger on your cold lips before kissing your forehead. He then laid down next to you,across from your chest,so close to we’re his breathe was against your chest. He then started to cry as he cuddled you and buried his face into your chest.

“I’m sorry that i’m holding you like this. But I can’t help it. I miss you every day and night. Even the sun and moon couldn’t pull me away from your love. You’re being unfair,my heart.” He spoke softly and in pain as he sniffled.