As the days turned into weeks, life for both Vayra and Kinjal settled back into its chaotic rhythm. Their demanding jobs as ACPs kept them engrossed, often pulling them in different directions. The stalker, once a pressing threat, had faded into the background-temporarily forgotten amidst the whirlwind of responsibilities and daily tasks. Kinjal, in particular, buried herself in work, convincing herself that if she stayed busy enough, she wouldn't have to confront her unresolved fears and insecurities.

Meanwhile, Abhishek and Shubman were consumed by their cricket schedules, hopping between practice sessions, press conferences, and matches. For Abhishek, this meant limited time to connect with Vayra. Their once-frequent texts and calls dwindled into sporadic, hurried conversations. When they did manage to catch a moment together, it was either in between meetings or over quick coffee breaks, their shared laughter often tinged with the frustration of missed time.

Kinjal, however, handled her personal life differently. She had grown skilled at avoidance, and Shubman was no exception. Every time he called or messaged, she deliberately ignored him, letting the texts pile up. Even when they accidentally crossed paths during mutual outings or work-related events, she kept her distance, offering curt nods and minimal conversation.

Shubman noticed, of course. How could he not? The teasing arguments, the banter that had once defined their dynamic, had disappeared. Kinjal had become colder, more reserved-putting up a wall he couldn't seem to break through. He wasn't sure what had triggered her behavior, but it left a sour taste in his mouth.

In his quieter moments, Shubman found himself replaying their past encounters, searching for clues. Did he say something wrong? Was it the slap she'd given him weeks ago? Was she mad at him for teasing her too much? He wanted to ask but decided against it, afraid she might push him further away.

Back at their shared apartment, Vayra noticed the shift in Kinjal too. She had grown quieter, her sarcasm and wit now laced with a sense of detachment. Vayra tried to bring it up a few times, but Kinjal brushed it off, insisting she was just busy with work.

But Vayra knew better. Late at night, when they were both in the apartment, she could hear Kinjal pacing in her room or working tirelessly on her laptop. The exhaustion was evident in her friend's face, yet Kinjal refused to let anyone in, building a fortress of independence and isolation.

For Vayra, balancing her relationship with Abhishek and her friendship with Kinjal became increasingly tricky. On one hand, she wanted to be there for her best friend, but on the other, her relationship with Abhishek required attention too. She often found herself torn, unsure of how to navigate the growing distance between them all.

The stalker's silence only added to the illusion that everything was fine. The bouquets and love letters had stopped, and there were no more signs of surveillance. It was easy to pretend that the threat had disappeared. But deep down, Kinjal knew better. She had learned early in life that ignoring problems didn't make them go away.

Yet, for now, everyone continued with their routines, pretending the cracks weren't there. And as Kinjal threw herself into work, ignoring Shubman and bottling up her emotions, a storm quietly brewed beneath the surface, waiting for its inevitable eruption.

------

-----

----

One peaceful night, after a long day at work, Vayra and Kinjal had finished their simple dinner together. Vayra, ever the organized one, headed to the kitchen to wash the dishes, humming softly to herself. Kinjal, on the other hand, retreated to her room, her laptop open in front of her as she dived into reports and case files, trying to distract herself from her lingering thoughts.

The window in her room was ajar, letting in a cool breeze. Kinjal barely noticed it as she typed away, focused on her screen. But then, a faint sound-like a muffled thud-caught her attention. She paused, furrowing her brows, and looked toward the window. For a moment, she thought it was the wind rustling the curtains, but then she heard it again-movement, unmistakably deliberate.

Her heart skipped a beat as she turned fully to face the window. And that's when she saw him.

"Shubman?!" she exclaimed in a mix of shock and disbelief, watching as he clumsily climbed through her window, his long legs awkwardly maneuvering to avoid the ledge.

"Relax, Mathur," he muttered, half out of breath as he finally landed on the floor. "Do you ever oil these windows? They're squeakier than your voice when you're mad."

Kinjal glared at him, her surprise quickly replaced by irritation. "What the hell are you doing here? Through my window, no less? Have you lost your mind?"

Shubman brushed off his pants, ignoring her question. "Your front door was locked, and I wasn't about to stand outside like a loser waiting for you to answer my calls. You've been ghosting me, remember?"

"I had a good reason for ignoring you, genius!" Kinjal snapped, standing up and folding her arms across her chest. "And you thought breaking in was the best way to handle that? What if I had called the cops? Oh wait, I am the cops!"

Shubman smirked, clearly unbothered by her outrage. "And what would you charge me with? Trespassing into the life of a very annoying ACP?"

She picked up a nearby pillow and threw it at him, but he dodged it easily, laughing. "I swear, Shubman, I'm this close to actually slapping you again."

"Well, your aim's terrible, so I'm not too worried," he teased, pulling out a small wrapped package from his pocket and tossing it onto her desk.

"What's that?" she asked suspiciously, still fuming but now a little curious.

"Peace offering," he replied casually, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. "I figured since you've been avoiding me like I'm some sort of plague, I'd bring you a little something to remind you that you're stuck with me-fake relationship or not."

Kinjal picked up the package and unwrapped it cautiously, revealing a small keychain-a miniature set of handcuffs. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Seriously? Is this supposed to be a joke?"

"Partially," he admitted with a grin. "But it's also a reminder. We're partners in this fake dating thing, and you don't get to ignore me when it gets tough. You made a deal, remember?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible, Gilli Danda player."

"And you're dramatic, Sheila Ki Jawani," he shot back, earning a glare from her.

Before she could retort, Vayra's voice called out from the kitchen. "Kinjal! Who are you yelling at in there?"

Kinjal froze, her eyes widening as she looked at Shubman. "Oh no. You have to leave. If she sees you, she'll never let me live this down."

"I just climbed through a window to see you," Shubman said smugly. "I'm not leaving until you at least thank me for the keychain."

"Get out!" she hissed, trying to shove him back toward the window, but he stood his ground, clearly amused by her panic.

"Kinjal, is everything okay?" Vayra's voice grew louder as she approached the room.

"Fine! Everything's fine!" Kinjal called back, pushing Shubman harder. "You're dead if she sees you," she muttered under her breath.

Shubman chuckled but finally relented, climbing back out the window with a wink. "Goodnight, Mathur. Don't miss me too much."

As he disappeared into the night, Kinjal closed the window with a groan, muttering to herself, "Why does he always have to be so annoying?"

Vayra walked in a second later, eyeing her suspiciously. "Who were you talking to?"

"No one," Kinjal lied, quickly sitting back at her desk. "Just arguing with myself."

Vayra raised an eyebrow but decided not to press further. As she walked away, Kinjal sighed in relief, glancing at the keychain on her desk. Despite her irritation, she couldn't help but smile a little.

----

Kinjal quickly closed the door, locking it with a soft click before turning back, clutching the little handcuff keychain. She smiled faintly at it, but the moment was short-lived as she suddenly felt a heavy weight pin her to the bed.

Startled, she gasped, her wide eyes landing on Shubman, who was now sprawled over her, grinning like a mischievous cat. "Shubman!" she whispered harshly, trying to push him off. "Are you out of your mind? What are you doing?!"

He propped himself on his elbow, looking down at her with a smirk. "Missed me, jaaneman?"

"Missed you?!" she hissed, her voice low but sharp. "What the hell are you doing in my room again?!"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I forgot something important."

Kinjal glared at him, her patience already hanging by a thread. "What?"

"A kiss," he said with a cheeky grin, his voice dropping to a teasing tone.

Kinjal's face turned red-half from anger, half from embarrassment. "A kiss?! Tu pagal hai kya? Get off me, Shubman!"

"Arre, kyun gussa ho rahi ho, jaan?" he teased, ignoring her protests. "Ek kiss hi toh maang raha hoon. Fake girlfriend ka fake right hai."

Her jaw dropped. "Fake right? Mujhe tujhe fake thappad dena chahiye!" She tried shoving him again, but he stayed firmly in place, clearly enjoying her frustration.

"Thappad toh baad mein de dena," he said, leaning closer, "pehle kiss de do."

"Shubman!" she whisper-yelled, eyes darting to the door. "Vayra's in the kitchen! If she hears us, I swear to God-"

"Toh kya?" he interrupted with a sly grin. "Main tujhe pyaar se bula raha hoon, jaaneman. Aur waise bhi, I climbed all the way back through your window. Don't I deserve some reward?"

Kinjal groaned in frustration. "You deserve a restraining order!"

He laughed softly, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "Bada bol rahi ho, lekin andar se toh tumhe maza aa raha hai. Admit it, Mathur."

"Admit what?!" she snapped, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Ki tumhe mera attention pasand hai," he said smoothly, his tone suddenly soft and sincere.

For a moment, Kinjal froze. His words caught her off guard, and she felt her heart skip a beat. But she quickly buried the feeling, refusing to let him win. "You're delusional," she muttered, turning her head away.

"Delusional?" he repeated with a smirk. "Main toh bas dedicated hoon. Tumhare liye, jaan."

"Stop calling me 'jaan'!" she retorted, glaring back at him.

"Okay, jaaneman," he replied cheekily, making her groan in exasperation.

"Get off me!" she demanded, shoving him again.

"Fine," he said with a dramatic sigh, sitting up slightly but still staying on the bed. "Par main yahan se nahi jaa raha."

Kinjal shot him a death glare. "What do you mean you're not leaving?"

"Matlab simple hai," he said, leaning back casually. "Mujhe yahan accha lag raha hai. Tumhare saath time spend karna chahta hoon."

She stared at him in disbelief. "You're impossible, Shubman!"

"Impossible toh tum ho," he countered, leaning closer again. "Mujhe ignore karti ho din bhar, aur phir expect karti ho main chup baithoon?"

"Ignore karti hoon because you're annoying!" she shot back.

"Aur tum cute ho jab gussa hoti ho," he said with a wink, completely unfazed.

Kinjal groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Why do I even tolerate you?"

"Because deep down, tumhe main pasand hoon," he said confidently, his grin widening.

"Get over yourself," she muttered, refusing to look at him.

"Main toh bas tumhare kareeb hoon," he replied smoothly, inching closer to her again.

"Shubman," she warned, her voice low and threatening.

"Yes, jaan?" he replied innocently.

"Stay. In. Your. Lane."

"Yehi toh meri lane hai," he quipped, tapping the bed beneath them.

Before she could retort, he leaned back against the headboard, completely at ease. "Relax, Kinjal. Main bas tumhare saath time spend karna chahta hoon. No mischief this time, promise."

Kinjal crossed her arms, clearly unconvinced. "I don't trust you."

"That's fair," he admitted with a grin. "Par agar tum mujhe ek chance dogi, toh shayad tumhara opinion change ho jaye."

She narrowed her eyes at him but didn't kick him out. Instead, she sighed heavily, resigning herself to his presence. "Fine. But if Vayra finds out you're here, you're on your own."

"Deal," he said with a smile, settling in as if he belonged there.

Kinjal shook her head, muttering under her breath. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're adorable," he replied, earning another glare from her.

As they sat there in silence, Kinjal couldn't help but wonder how Shubman always managed to worm his way into her life-and her heart.