Lines that kill me every time (ft. Krisha and Ishit)
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"If you are the iron, I am the rust. If you are the flame, I am the ash."
- Krishnapriya Devi
‼️ More below ‼️
She didn't know how long she had been lying there. Long enough to memorize the sound of dripping water. Long enough to feel like the room itself was breathing with her—or dying with her.
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"Shit," she whispered.
She waited for someone to scold her, because, technically, she wasn't allowed to curse. If her governess heard her, she'd surely chase her down with a broom, and then cry about how her poor dead mother would be heartbroken to hear such words. She felt guilty every time, but swearing made her feel braver. Older. More like him.
She liked to think that her father cursed too; that when he was angry or brave or unafraid, he said things no one else dared to. That he stood taller because he didn't care who heard him—maids, guards, even the priests who came to read ślokas in the mornings.
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"Every morning since that day, I find myself empathizing with madwomen more than the last...for the love they lost must be something even God craves.”
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The words coiled like ivy around her throat, setting fire to her skin. For the first time that day, she looked in his eyes-really looked-searching for some sign he understood the pain buried between the lines. The words ached at the edge of her mouth, ones she hoped she'd never have to speak into existence.
But his expression didn't flinch-not in judgment, not in doubt. And for a moment, she felt something perilously close to being understood.
And yet, she said it anyway.
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“When will you grow tired of me?”
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The silence stretched between them, heavy and electric. Then, gently, Ishit reached forward and tilted her chin up-guiding her eyes to his.
Finally, when he spoke, it was barely above a whisper.
"You are the reason I am."
Nothing more.
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Let me know which one you liked best!!
Which is better: “For the love they lost must be something even God…”
They’re both main protagonists in my upcoming series, “Of Eyes & Embers” and they’re besties.
Arangan (the guy)
Krishnapriya’s personal guard in Tamil Nadu and, eventually, Rajasthan.
He was born as the son of a blacksmith, but a captain who was frustrated with his own pupils at the time, recognized talent in Arangan and secretly changed his identity to be a kshatriya/warrior born—something incredibly dangerous at the time. He became a really skilled warrior and became Krishas guard at 19.
He was sent away from home with Krisha when she was married off, because he became a bit too obsessive in protecting Krisha’s father aka the lord of the estate, and the lord was uncomfortable ;-; man just had a crush leave him alone—
Krishnapriya Devi
She lost use of her legs from an “accident” when she was 12 years old and went from being the favorite daughter to a ghost in her own home.
Nobody would touch her for months, years even. Maids would avoid her and maintain distance (This is the 1700s) and this made Krisha gain an unhealthy relationship with control and independence.
She was married off to a thakur (governor) in “faraway lands” because her father saw her as the most dispensable child, (wrongfully so). But she did not expect to actually find companionship and even love in a desert.
I have more information on both of them. If you’d like more details, please don’t hesitate to let me know!
I was playing around with complementary colors and I ended up creating this! The purple hair is supposed to symbolize the galaxy swirling around her like how hair does.
I used the flat brush on Procreate
Please support my art by liking and reposting! I’m also on Instagram and Pinterest (same username)
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