~ You put me on a shelf, and kept me for yourself, I can only blame myself, you can only blame me. ~

The 9th of December came to her for the fifteenth time. She was looking up directly above her, at the ceiling-fan, which was being forced to rotate even on such a wintry day. When he spoke, his voice, as intended, was muffled by the relentless groaning of the fan.
"Your tone and expressions are a lot like - " he trailed off a bit before he found the word he was looking for. He compared her to a fictional character from a book, a movie. Immensely satisfied with the comparison he had just made, he smiled widely. She knew he was trying to say more than just that; in a way he had just made a jab at her own character, but she pretended to remain oblivious to the indication and simply smiled back. It was the easiest thing to do. He said a few other things, but she was no longer listening. She was still looking above her, watching the rotations, as her mind kept venturing back to earlier that day, to a setting completely different from the one she was currently in, with people completely different from the one who was accompanying her now.

..................................

They had had a few things to say, specially him. She couldn't remember the last time she had had an actual conversation with him, but now, thanks to one person in the middle, they had been made to talk. He sounded puzzled, bewildered... guilty, even. Of what, he had wanted to know. Rightfully, too. No, he was not guilty. She told him she, herself, was. But a part of her knew it wasn't her either. Nor was it the one sitting in between them, trying her best. She just didn't want to name the person who came to mind while they were pointing fingers. She was trying to protect him from the pointers. Why, she wondered  for a split second, and then dismissed the pondering. This was just how it was, how it had been.

...................................

Deciding that she had finally seen enough of the rotating fan, she rolled on to her side, still silent. He raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for her to say what was on her mind. She hesitated slightly, almost told him about her conversation from that morning, then decided against it. Naturally. Instead, she just smiled again, pulled herself up, tied back her hair and stepped into her shoes.