Page’s POV:
I felt like a nightingale, singing my heart out in a place which had been my solitude. These chanting crowd around me, whom I found eccentric at the very first time I set my foot here, my teachers who were also rooting for us, Arkin whom I utterly disliked at the very beginning, was singing his heart out with me. I’d never imagined that we would be here together onstage, his eyes were swimming with fire for his craft. A shiver ran down my spine as he held my hands as the final song hit on the bridge part. It felt like his grip was saying something to me, which I couldn’t decode.
His eyes were pleading, which predisposed me to get lost in the intensity of his gaze. His eyes looked haunted with thousands of unsaid words, and only his music was the only channel that linked those
