~His Beloved Captive.~

"This soul is mine, this body too,

(ये रूह भी मेरी, ये जिस्म भी मेरा,)

yet neither is as much mine, as they are yours.

(उतना मेरा नहीं, जितना हुआ तेरा।)

Even if all you ever gave me is pain,

(तूने दिया है जो, वो दर्द ही सही,)

since it's from you, it's a gift I cherish.

(तुझ से मिला है तो इनाम है मेरा।)

************

Chapter's Playlist:

Sau Baras - Haunted 3D

Phir Mohabbat - Murder 2

Kahani Suno 2.0 - Kaifi Khalil

Ae Dil Hai Mushkil - Arijit Singh

Dil Ki Purani Sadak - Sadak 2

************

(A few months later)

The camera flickered on, illuminating the eager face of a young YouTuber, his eyes alight with excitement. Behind him, a makeshift studio adorned with posters of various internet memes and a neon sign that spelt out 'Trends and Talk' in bold, glowing letters provided the backdrop for his live stream.

"Hey, everyone! Welcome back to another episode of Trends and Talk, where we dive headfirst into the juiciest gossip the internet has to offer!" The YouTuber exclaimed, his voice vibrating with enthusiasm.

"And today, oh boy, do we have some spicy tea for you all! Guess what's blowing up the internet right now? That's right, I'm talking about the one, the only *drumroll* the Grovers!"

He leaned forward, his expression morphing into one of ruse mixed with a hint of mischief.

"Now, unless you've been living under a rock - and please, no judgment if you have, it's probably quieter down there - you've heard about the latest antics of the Grover family."

"Yes, those Grovers! The billionaires living their best lives, ruling the business world like modern-day kings." He winks at the camera. "But what's a good family without a little bit of scandal?"

The chat section of the live stream exploded with a flurry of emojis and exclamations, indicating the audience's anticipation and excitement.

- Who needs stability when you have the Grover brothers shaking up your world? 😂 #LifeWithTheGrovers

- Can we get a petition going to have the Grover family start a vlog channel? I need daily updates on this madness!

- I wonder if the Grover brothers are taking applications for new family members? Asking for a friend... 👀 #GroverAdoptMe

- The Grover brothers: making headlines and breaking hearts since forever! 💔 #DramaKings

- Oh my god, I've been waiting for this all day! Grover family, here we come! *⁠\⁠0⁠/⁠*

- I need popcorn for this! Drama level 1000!

- Can we just take a moment to appreciate those Grover genes? Like, hello, gorgeous ~ 🌝

- Wait, what? Are we talking about the same Grover family? The ones with the golden spoons?

"Alright, alright, let's not keep the suspense killing us, shall we?" The YouTuber continued, adjusting his glasses for dramatic effect. "So, picture this: the Grover family, a bunch of billionaires with more skeletons in their closets than a haunted mansion. And here, we've got Zaid Grover, the youngest son of the family, who decides, 'Hey, you know what would be a great idea? Confessing to murder and a lot of other crimes!'"

"Such a classic move, am I right? If you ever get bored, do try it out," he paused, allowing for the laughter, agreement, and reaction of his audience to ripple through the virtual airwaves.

- Seriously, Zaid should have made confessions about his love life instead of going the other way around 💀🙌

- Is it wrong to still have a crush on Zaid after everything? Asking for a friend... 😶✌️

- Zaid, my man, what are you smoking? 💀

- Zaid, sweetie, we still love you even if you're a 'murderer.' 😂 #FreeZaid

- Imagine having that much money and still being this dysfunctional 😂

- Imagine being so rich you can afford to have your own personal drama series! 💰🎭 #GroverDrama

- Zaid may have some issues, but I'd still let him confess his crimes to me any day! 😏

- Can someone get Zaid a reality check? We still love him even if he's 'crazy'! 🤪 #FreeZaid

- I'm convinced the Grover family is cursed. No other explanation for this level of chaos! 🔮

- I always knew there was something shady about him! 😒 #IsaidwhatIsaid #idon'tcare

- This is juicier than my grandma's secret recipe! I can't even! ⊙⁠﹏⁠⊙

"But wait, another plot twist!" He almost shrieked at the camera, leaning back in his chair with a huff. "Just when you think things couldn't get any wilder, who should come strolling back into the picture but Tanveer Grover, the eldest son of the Grover family as well as Zaid's elder brother, who was supposed to be in a dead party six feet under!"

His words were followed by a barrage of more comments.

- What kind of family reunion is this?! 😐

- Imagine being so rich you can afford to fake your own death and come back like nothing happened! 💰💀 #GroverfamilyGoals

- I can't decide if I want to marry into the Grover family for the money or run away from the chaos! 💍💨

- Zaid confesses to being a murderer, Tanveer comes back from the dead... What's next, aliens landing in their backyard? 👽🛸 #iamdonewiththissh*t

- Zaid: I'm a murderer! Tanveer: Hold my champagne, I'm back from the dead! 😂

- I wonder if the Grover family drama is scripted or if they're just naturally this chaotic! 🤔🎭

- OMG, Tanveer is back from the dead and still looking like a snack! 😍

- I need a flowchart to keep track of who's alive, who's dead, who's confessing to what, and who's pretending to be dead in this family 😂🙌 #iamdone

- I bet the Grover mansion has secret passages and hidden rooms, it's like a real-life mystery novel! 🤐

"I mean seriously, what was he doing all these years away from the world's eyes? Having a long a*s vacation in Hawaii?" The young boy shook his head, letting out a frustrated groan. "And here, I was hoping to become his wife's second husband, but fate is such a bitch."

- I'll take a side of scandal with these brothers, please! 😂 #DramaQueens

- The Grover brothers have officially taken over my life, and I'm not complaining 😅 #ObsessedFan

- I need a reality show just following the Grover brothers' lives 24/7 🎥🍿 #NonStopDrama

- Imagine being in a love triangle with the Grover brothers... 😳❤️ #DreamyDilemma

- I can't decide which brother I'm more obsessed with! 😩💕 #DoubleTrouble"

- Tanveer ~ Take me with you on your private jet, I'll be your side-kick! 🤭✌️

"Calm down, ladies! Tanveer Grover is already married, but I hope his wife divorces him.." The YouTuber leaned forward, raising his hands in surprised disbelief. "And, Zaid Grover is rumoured to be married, though no evidence has been found yet to support these talks."

"Anyway, let's not hover off the topic. There is more to all of this, guys! It gets crazier!" He continued with a profound zest. "Not only does Tanveer miraculously rise from the dead, but he also swoops in to save the day, proving in the court that poor Zaid isn't playing with a full deck of cards, if you catch my drift."

"And get this, folks, Tanveer pulls off the ultimate plot twist by proving in the court that Zaid is suffering from DID - that's Dissociative Identity Disorder for all you who didn't know - and that his confessions were as reliable as a politician's promises during election season!"

He paused, allowing the gravity of the situation to sink in as another flood of comments rushed in.

- Zaid: I'm a criminal! Tanveer: Nah, you're just confused, bro! 😂

- I volunteer to be the Grover family's therapist. They all need it! 🛋️

- Okay but like, can we have a moment for Zaid? Dude needs some serious therapy, not a prison cell. #JusticeForZaid

- All of this feels so sketchy somehow. Something is definitely missing here 🙂

- Plot twist: I bet Tanveer orchestrated his own 'death' for this ultimate comeback story! 😏

- Tanveer proving once again that family always has your back, even when you're a supposed 'criminal'! 😌🙌

- Imagine being the lawyer for the Grover family. That's job security right there! 💼

"I mean can you believe it - the Zaid freaking Grover has DID!" He pointed dramatically at the camera while holding up his fist to give a thumbs-up. "Turns out he's got a one-way ticket to the Crazytown."

The chat erupted into another frenzy of comments, with viewers expressing everything from shock and astonishment to amusement and sheer disbelief.

Meanwhile, the YouTuber basked in that chaos. "Yes folks, keep those comments coming, and don't forget to hit that like button and subscribe for more exclusive gossip. Until next time!"

---✳❇✳---

The wet ground cradled Zaid's fallen figure, his body painted with the chilling hues of the gloomy rain-soaked atmosphere.

Each raindrop falling from the sky, mingled with the tears that flowed from his eyes, basking him in a grief-stricken glory.

He didn't dare close his eyes as the unconsciousness began to settle in, while blood seeped from his wounded head, creating an unsettling sight of pain, regret and sorrow.

The harsh reality of his failed attempt to escape the clutches of life was strolling in the quiet surroundings, as if the room itself was fused with the remnants of his anguish.

Sunlight struggled, unable to seep through the drawn curtains, casting feeble rays across the space while silently lying on his bed, Zaid stared at the door when Tanveer entered the room.

"That really was a cowardly move Zaid," Tanveer sighed as soon as his gaze fell on Zaid's awoke figure on the bed with a mixture of disappointment and concern etched on his features. "Why did you even do that?"

"Don't talk as if you don't know," Zaid retorted, his voice laced with bitterness, eyes narrowed, and a dull ache lingering in his bandaged head.

For a moment, Tanveer remained reticent, his eyes searching Zaid's face for any aspect of understanding. Then, with a heavy sigh, he settled onto the sofa, facing his brother. "The court didn't find you guilty of any of the crimes you claimed to commit."

"It's because you hid every evidence!" Zaid's eyes flashed angrily as his blank gaze soon turned into a furious glare, his frustration seeping on the surface.

"No, I didn't hide anything, it's just you never left behind any evidence." Tanveer gave him a hard look. "There was no evidence, no witness, so there was no crime and no criminal."

"Liar! I had left some proof, there's even a witness, but you. . . ." Zaid scoffed, ignoring his throbbing forehead and the sharp pain in his chest. "You used them to mould a stupid story for everyone to hear."

"Stupid story? What stupid? It's nothing but the truth." Tanveer shook his head lightly, letting out a mocking chuckle. "You have DID and your medical reports proved it, I forged no lie in this thing."

"And witness you say? You wanted me to bring Shravya to the court? In the same vulnerable state, you pushed her in?" He laughed bitterly. "Then sorry, because I couldn't. She refused. She didn't want to see you again. And, do know that it's all your doings."

And, just at the little mention of her, Zaid went silent with familiar emotions churning in his guts, his heart aching.

His hand subconsciously curled into a fist and his lips twitched into an angry frown as the memories of the courtroom played in his mind --- In the courtroom, Tanveer proved Zaid to be a patient of a mental disorder, using Zaid's medical reports as a weapon if nothing of sort.

Not even a single crime, a single piece of evidence was found. All the desperate confessions of Zaid were taken as nothing but the inept cries of a mentally unstable individual - hence, the case ended with Zaid being released from prison and ordered to take treatment for his DID.

"You didn't do right, Tanveer. You can't save me. it's too late. I'm rotten from inside, and it won't take long for that condition to become visible on the surface," Zaid's voice seemed to break as he peered down at his hands which now lay limp on his lap, their moments dying just like his emotions.

"I'm not a human. I'm a monster. You should keep me chained and caged, otherwise I will hurt the innocents," his voice sounded distant and weak, yet, there was the immovable weight of remorse, hiding under the shadows of despair.

"And that's why you tried to kill yourself." It wasn't a question but rather a finalised statement from Tanveer. His voice held the firmness of certainty, his face showed nothing but the tints of disappointment lacing with sympathy as he gazed straight into Zaid's eyes.

"What else was I supposed to do then?" Zaid let out a dry, humorless laugh, his fingers twitching involuntarily against his thighs as he watched Tanveer stand up and walk over to the windows in the room.

"Because of my sudden appearance, It's getting chaotic out there but it's good. People are focusing more on the fact of me being alive," Tanveer spoke absentmindedly before pulling the curtains away from the windows, his sapphire eyes resting on the greenery outside.

"This will eventually lead them to move on from your case. The sooner they forget about your claims, the better it will be."

Then, he paused, turning around to face Zaid again. "You did whatever you thought was right," he began, his tone measured yet firm. "I'm also doing whatever I think is right."

He continued to stare at Zaid, his eyes devoid of warmth, and yet there was still something akin to compassion swimming in those oceanic orbs. "I have a promise to keep, so bear with it, brother."

With those words, Tanveer made his exit out of the room, leaving the silence stretching between them. As the sound of his footsteps from outside faded, the silence gradually slithered in and the only noises filling the air became the occasional chirps of birds flying by.

The word promise stayed stuck in the chains of Zaid's thoughts, his lips parted, wanting to utter something, anything, to ease the silence, yet, he didn't.

Instead, he just lowered his head and closed his eyes; his father absolutely wanted him to suffer by demanding such a promise from Tanveer. Didn't he?

Let it be then.

Let's just suffer.

He has seen his own world crumbling before his own eyes, while he could do nothing - what else could be more painful than that?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

With gentle precision, the doctor held the two newborns - a girl and a boy, non-identical twins.

Their cries, delicate and full of life, pierced through the heavy atmosphere of the operation theatre, creating a symphony that moved along the complexity of Shravya's feelings.

Her breaths were laboured yet measured, signifying her pain and relief. In the middle of her vulnerability, there was an odd strength, a resilience born from the very essence of motherhood.

She felt a consonance within her, a fusion of fatigue and elation, agony and repose.

Her trembling hands reached out, yearning to hold her children, her eyes, weary but alight with joy, following the doctor's movements as she gently laid the infants on Shravya's chest, one after another.

A sob bobbled inside Shravya's throat just at the mere sight of her babies, a rush of conflicting emotions stirring within her.

Her gaze went blurred with tears, fixated on the tiny beings placed on her chest. Their warmth, opposite to the coolness of the operating table, seeped into her very core, making her feel as if the universe itself collapsed into her arms, only to complete the partial her.

Her heart ached at the beauty of their bodies, her eyes watering more as she observed each child in turn, their little faces, their tiny arms and legs, their chubby cheeks - every inch of them was precious and fragile.

And every little bit of that made her cry, for they were so much more than human beings to her, they were her life, her everything now.

"My Kainaat and Samir," she lovingly mumbled the names she had decided for her babies long ago.

"Mama loves you both a lot." Tears left her eyes as she held the twins close, the weight of the world seeming to dissolve away, leaving only the delicate warmth of her newborns against her heart.

Pain, my lovely companion. Isn't it here, where we finally part our ways?

--------------------
(Four years later)
--------------------

"Our shadows

Are still dancing

Like spectres in

My dreams."

- d.j.

************

Aayush Agarwal is really good at his job.

His hands, as steady as the resolve of mountains, hold hearts and heal lives.

Each bothered heartbeat he has ever mended sings of his talent, often London's streets hearing whispers of his name with admiration and gratitude.

They say - Aayush Agarwal is, by nature, kind.

In the quiet hallways of the hospital, his presence is marvelled by many.

His gentle smile and warm brown eyes have captured the admiration of nurses and doctors alike.

However, among those whispers of admiration, there were also talks of wonders, curious about his fiancée - where did she go? What happened to her?

Everything changed ever since he came back from his sudden and eerily long trip to India.

Maybe, they didn't just work out and broke up - in the end, they all concluded after no longer seeing the sweet woman's presence in their surgeon's life.

Only if they knew that in every heartbeat he saved, he found a sliver of solace, a sign of hope, a reflection of the love that once made his own heart whole.

The love that was somehow left behind, lost in her willing sacrifice.

Only if they knew that his hands, which could mend their hearts, trembled when he reached his own.

Only if they knew that the famous surgeon has a broken heart himself.

An emotionally broken heart that was still searching for its lost repairer.

Yet, Aayush Agarwal is really good at his job - as a cardiac surgeon, of course.

~You are the companion of my soul,

(तू रूह का हमनवा है,)

this bond is not of mere flesh and bodies.

(ये जिस्मों का रिश्ता नहीं।) ~

---✳❇✳---

"Leaves fall,

Snow melts:

Everything ends

To begin

Again."

- d.j.

************

She could hear the birds chirping outside. They were chirping so sweetly and so freely - so unlike her, who was mutely sitting inside her cage, peering at the marks on her body.

"I don't deserve this," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the birds' song.

The cold, golden bars of her cage shimmered mockingly in the morning light as she sat on the plush, velvet cushion and mattress, its softness offering little comfort to her barely covered body.

Her brown locks did everything in their reach to cover her modesty, but she did nothing to cover herself --- somehow, it didn't matter anymore.

Yes, it would only add more shame to what she already felt about herself; it would only add another layer of shame to something already burning within her.

"Was this manor of yours not enough to cage me that you still saw the need of caging me in here?" She spoke, weakly moving her eyes from her body to the doorway, seeing no one other than the very reason for her misery - Zaid.

"I see, still sulking," his voice was smooth with some hints of shameless amusement.
"C'mon now, don't be like this, Sona."

"It's such a lovely morning, so why don't you give your husband a kiss and then we both can go downstairs to have breakfast. Yeah?"

His gaze wandered around her body as he walked deeper into the room, stopping before the cage; a small smirk tugged the edges of his lips. "Hm. I must say you're looking absolutely ravishing this morning."

"Just go and die somewhere," Shravya replied without much strength in her words and shifted to look at the other side, turning her back to him.

"You know what else doesn't suit you, my little wife?" He spoke, unlocking the cage, his lips curling at the slight tension that settled in her posture. "Disobedience; now apologize"

After stepping inside the cage, he wasted no time in approaching her, his arm reaching out to grab her only to pull back swiftly when she bit it.

"Ah, what a wild thing you are," he mused, his eyes gleaming dangerously when suddenly he reached out again, this time for her neck, catching her off guard as he pulled her closer to himself.

"Never forget this, mujse zyada pyaar tumhe koi nhi kar skta," his hand cupped her jawline, tilting her head towards him.

(No one can love you more than me)

"Pyaar nhi, barbaad kaho," Shravya hissed, scratching his arm, her nails digging into his wrist.

(Not love, call it destruction instead)

She recoiled as he leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek. "You're seriously testing my patience," he whispered, tightening his grip slightly in a warning.

"I'll gladly do this again, you shameless bastard." Shravya glared at him, her eyes reflecting a storm of emotions - fear, anger, disgust.

Zaid smirked, leaning further, his lips hovering a millimetre away from hers. "Hm. Although I prefer you behaving with proper manners, I think I also wouldn't mind you being a little wild while I f*ck you senseless."

"Sounds appetizing. Doesn't it?" His lips moved slowly, brushing against hers, before pulling away, his grin turning feral. "Very well, we'll have breakfast later. And now, you can scratch me, or even bite all you want."

"There is no need to worry, cause by the time we'll be done, I surely would've f*cked some manners into you." he taunted, his eyes peering at her bare body with a predatory delight. "After all, we both know it's a matter of just a few minutes before you come undone on my fingers."

"I hate you! You're sick!" Shravya screamed, wildly brawling while his presence seemed to take up the entire space, stealing the very breath from her lungs to fill his own.

And, she struggled to breathe, her body trembling with a mix of terror and fury. Her heart pounded in her chest, tears welled up in her eyes, soon spilling over. "You're disgusting."

"Oh, I definitely am," he laughed, his voice vibrating through the shudders in her body as his lips trailed down from her shoulder blade, lower and lower.

The dwindling orange ball drowned and drowned below the horizon, with its soft dying glow bidding a quiet adieu and kissing the sky with a comforting red and bluish end, leaving with a witty promise of meeting again.

While, the once enthusiastic birds returned home, with their wings carrying the weight of a day filled with activities.

Soon, as the pretty moon surfaced, cradled in the arms of the motherly sky, the faraway celestial bodies twinkled, lovingly cooing a night through the chilled breeze.

Sitting on the balcony of her room, Shravya shut her laptop off and stretched her limbs, letting out a sigh of relief after finally being done with her work for the day --- doing work from home wasn't as simple as people made it seem.

With her lips curved into a gentle smile, she walked over to the railing, peering down at her two little worlds; Kainaat and Samir.

The four-year-olds were oblivious to their mother's gaze as they played together in the yard of their comfortable yet modest home.

A warm, happy feeling swelled inside Shravya, while the corners of her eyes sparkled with tender affection; while Kainaat was her universe, the world where she was living, Samir was her air without whom she couldn't breathe --- oh, and how fast they both were growing up.

Since the past few years, life has been nothing but kind to her, as if finally rewarding her for all of her forbearance, and for all the sufferings she went through.

Although the trauma and the horrors of her past still creep in the shadows of the night, clinging to her dreams, she was still content with her life at the moment, with her children and her Grandma.

Because she knew that it had to be one step at a time, slowly and carefully, until she finally reached happiness.

After all, time heals every wound while life teaches us how to embrace and live on with the scars of those wounds.

--✳❇✳---

"In the abandoned

Corridors of my heart,

Your footsteps

Still echo late

At night."

- d.j.

************

The shadows stayed close to the bathroom's walls, being the witnesses of Shravya's occasional whimpers and gasps as she hunched over the toilet, her body racked with spasms as she vomited.

The cold tile floor pressed against her knees, her fingers clutching the porcelain rim. Her long hair covered her face like a curtain, hiding her features as she tried to control the waves of nausea.

"Shravya."

Her body stilled, her eyes widened, a fusion of fear and worry churning in her hazel orbs as the voice of Zaid calling her name sounded too close to her. In her turmoil, she failed to notice his presence.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the air as his hand reached out, running his fingers into her dark brown locks before shifting them away from her face.

"You shouldn't be alone when you're like this."

She flinched at the touch, knowing just by the tone which Zaid was in control currently.

"Stay away," Shravya hissed weakly, slapping his hand away as she clung to the edge of the toilet, her knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping it.

Looking up, she glared at him. The acrid taste of bile lingered in her mouth, and she felt weak, vulnerable. She hated feeling so exposed.

There was this familiar panic in her from the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her. It made her feel like she was again teetering on the edge of danger --- and only one wrong move was enough to make her fall.

"You're not well," he said, his tone softening slightly. "Come, let me help you."

Zaid moved closer, and she instinctively shifted away while a flicker of something, perhaps irritation, crossed his features, but he quickly masked it with an amused smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Now, now, don't throw tantrums. C'mere," he let out a chuckle. And even before she could protest, he was by her side, one arm slipping around her waist to support her.

She stiffened at his touch, but he ignored it, guiding her out of the bathroom and towards the dimly lit bedroom after a small clean-up.

"I know you think of me as some sort of monster," he spoke as led her to the bed, gently easing her in before taking a seat beside her.

She stayed silent, her eyes glued to his hands. However, her skin crawled in terror when he pulled her closer to himself, tugging her head against his chest.

His hand brushed the back of her head and he leaned in close, his lips ghosting her ear. "But your Zuzu or whatever you call him, he and I, we both would have died long ago if it wasn't for me, the one who fought for survival."

I still hate you  - Shravya wanted to scream at his face but she stayed quiet, not wanting unnecessary trouble. She was tired. So tired.

While, in the dim light, Zaid's thoughts wandered. He looked down at her, his expression unreadable; he knew she was scared, yet, couldn't help but indulge in that side of hers.

She was like a forbidden fruit to him, one that he longed to devour completely. The desire to possess her, to have every part of her, was overwhelming.

"Even in another 10 years, even when my Grover empire has fallen into ruins, even if the time has forgotten that it favoured me once, the aching need in me for your presence still wouldn't fade."

He stroked her hair gently, a gesture that should have been comforting but felt nothing close to that.

His words had a strange ring to them, as though they were rehearsed.

"We will find each other in all our futures, no matter what happens," he told her softly, letting his breath fan against her head. "Because there is no such thing as 'too late'."

"As long as the sun shines upon this body of mine, as long as I breathe, even for a minute, I, Zaid Grover, will always remain yours." His hand continued its soothing motions, and she again felt a shiver run down her spine. "And, you're mine. No one can separate Zaid from Shravya."

Her heart clenched painfully as she heard his promise.

"Sona, you have no idea of the lengths I've gone to, what all I've done, to just be able to have you here like this, in my arms." He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, a strange feeling bubbling in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

And soon, he found himself affectionately wondering about the tiny life growing inside her --- this child was a part of him, a part of her. It was a bond that could never be broken.

Oh, things really did turn nice for him. It all was worth his patience. It feels so great being a soon-to-be father. He feels ecstatic --- maybe, these strange emotions, these feelings, this is what love feels like.

In its own twisted way, maybe this was the love he held for his unborn child and the woman who was currently in his arms.

Actually, what does it mean to fall in love?

Is it a desire to take control or a desire to embrace submission?

Or is it nothing at all?

Just what is it?

As long as she remains by his side, he was willing to go even to the farthest reaches of the earth, bearing both blood on his hands and tears in his eyes --- if this isn't love, then what is?

And, if this can't be love, then he was certain that love is nothing but a mirage.

For, in the end, he was hers, and she was his. The child in her womb was also his. And nothing, not even the deepest fears or the darkest secrets, could change that.

In content, he hummed, caressing her lower abdomen. "Sleep, Sona. I promise I won't do anything."

But she didn't comply and stayed awake, eyes wide open; only an ignorant fool would fall asleep and defenceless in the arms of danger.

Shooting stars - the stars which fell in love with destruction.

Continuing this cycle of the old confessions and the cherished doom, a lovesick star fell again, giving a shining trail to its tragic love tale before fading into nothingness.

It was in the wake of a late realisation when the precise and delicate movements of Zaid's fingers halted upon the knitting needles.

Sadly, he didn't make a wish.

A tiny smile gingerly curled his lips as he peered at the vast sky - that pretty blanket showed no remorse for its fallen star, too busy adorning the moon.

Too bad, he couldn't make a wish.

As there was only one wish he truly longed for - something or rather someone he wasn't supposed to desire; the term forgiveness can't exist between a victim and the tormentor after all.

With a sigh, that seemed to reverberate through the hushness of the room, Zaid turned his attention back to the unfinished gloves in his hands.

The soft wool slipped through his fingers as if it was the sand-like time itself, weaving with the delicate memories and affection that threatened to come apart at the slightest tug.

Such cute and small things are fragile after all - he mused, running his fingertip at the soft wool, wondering if these would even fit his child or not --- if they ever managed to find their way into the hands of the child he had never to meet, of course.

That child --- a dream, he was foolishly fabricating, even after not knowing how that beautiful human looks while being into existence.

A son or a daughter --- a dream, he had never held, never touched, never sung to sleep with lullabies in the quiet of the night.

That thought itself dampened his mood considerably, causing the corners of his mouth to quirk downwards in the smallest of smiles as he returned his attention to his task, again working on those small pieces of wool.

With each loop and twist of the yarn, he poured his love and longing into the fabric, his heart heavy with a load of unspoken prayers and wishes.

But his mind kept drifting away to the thoughts of the past, mostly to the parts he was so fond of.

His world narrowed to the space between four walls of the room, the memories settling into his arms with an untouchable warmth.

And he felt numb, yet, lovingly held those memories --- his beloved captive --- in his embrace.

No matter what I did.

I was bound to fall.

I was gambling on the treacherous hope.

So, I was bound to lose.

I was a stupid moth who wanted to conquer the flames.

So, I was bound to perish.

I was bound to burn.

I was bound to fall.

Each step I took, was a step towards the ground,

My fate pulling me down, without a single sound.

I tried to resist, to break free from its hold,

But love had other plans, so I was bound to succumb.

I was bound to fall.

Because I was in love and without it, I would have been left with nothing at all.

- Panchi Verma.

--✳❇✳---

"It was

The perfect

Storm.

You, me,

And a hint

Of forever."

- d.j.

************

Shravya could see nothing but him.

Nothing but him as in the middle of the heavy storm, Zaid knelt on the soaked ground, his clothes clinging to his body, and his arms wrapped tightly around Shravya’s waist.

He clung to her as if she was the stopping moor of a ship that was diving into a world out of control.

"I’ve been so blind, so selfish."

His shoulders shook with the force of his sobs, soaking her dress with his own tears too as if the rain wasn't doing enough.

"I hurt you," he choked out, his voice breaking, barely audible over the pounding rain. "I'm such a monster."

Shravya stood motionless, her eyes fixed on him, her breath stuttering at his words. 

The rain rapidly sank through her clothes, mingling with the silent tears that she could no longer hold back. Her hands hung limply at her sides, clenched into tight fists, her knuckles white.

She felt the weight of Zaid’s words, felt the deep regret they carried, how much he wished it weren’t true. She knew exactly what kind of man this Zaid before her was --- the same kind of person she loved once.

"Punish me. Someone like me shouldn't be forgiven." He held her tighter. "I should be punished, killed if must."

"I. . . ." Shravya began, her voice trembling. But the words faltered, dying in her throat. She couldn’t say it.

With a sudden jolt, Shravya's eyes snapped open, her cheekbones sticky with tears as more of them filled her hazel eyes at the realisation of the dream she saw.

Blinking back those tears, she took in a deep breath to calm her emotions, letting the familiar warmth and safety of her bedroom envelope her.

Her troubled thoughts were soon replaced by the serenity of the soft and steady breathing of her children beside her. Kainaat and Samir lay peacefully on either side of their mother, their small hands clutching her nightgown.

Shravya chuckled and brushed her tears away before kissing each of them on the forehead, her heart feeling nothing but peace and love in their presence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rain in the early morning was as gentle as Shravya's soft humming. The soft patter of raindrops against the kitchen's window provided a tender tempo to her movements as she moved with ease, her hands skillfully tossing flattened rice with spices and vegetables in a sizzling pan.

Promising of warmth and comfort on the drizzly morning, the deliciously fragrant aroma of poha moved through the silent air - thanks to Kainaat and Samir still asleep.

Soon, the soft shuffle of feet drew Shravya’s attention, and she turned to see her Dai Maa entering the kitchen. She held a Puja ki thali in her hands, the small brass plate adorned with marigold flowers, a diya, and a small bowl of prasada.

"Good morning, Dai Maa," Shravya greeted her with a smile.

"Good morning, betaa," the old woman replied, her voice soft and full of warmth as she placed the thali on the counter. Her silver hair was neatly tied back, her sari perfectly draped, and despite the early hour, she carried an air of serene dignity.

"I hope you remember that someone's turning old here," Shravya couldn’t resist a playful comment as she turned off the stove to take her share of prasada.

"I'm already old," her grandma chuckled, putting the prasada's ladoo on Shravya's upturned palm.

"Oh my! Then, does it mean you're turning into a fossil?" Shravya teased as she took a bite, then another, from the proffered treat, finishing it in no time.

"And here I thought that you have turned into a mature woman now, who is also a mother of two children," the old lady responded playfully, picking up the plates and other vessels to begin setting the table for breakfast. "But I guess not."

"Well, nah!" Shravya just laughed, picking up the mug of her unfinished coffee from earlier and comfortably leaning against the counter.

"By the way, are you planning to visit the old age home again?"

Shravya pursued her lips together before taking a sip of the lukewarm beverage, knowing what her Dai maa was trying to say.

The old woman glanced at the closed window, worry swirling in her eyes after seeing the weather's condition. "But it's so far from here, betaa. The weather is also not good; let's not go this time."

"No, Dai Maa I must go." Shravya gave the woman her best reassuring smile before taking one more sip from her coffee. "How can I not? Those are the same people who took you under their shelter and cared for you when no one else was around."

"I'm indebted to them," Shravya hummed thoughtfully, meeting her Grandma's gaze. "Visiting them once in a while is something I'm grateful for being able to do."

It was the same old age home where her Dai Maa stayed during her time of need when she was desperately trying to find Shravya.

And now, it has become a priority of Shravya to visit that place at least twice a year, especially during occasions like her Dai maa's birthday.

"Moreover, Kainaat and Samir love meeting all the grannies and grandpas there, so there's nothing to mull over," Shravya grinned, placing the empty mug in the sink ---  it was true, too. Even her children were fond of visiting the facility.

"I'll go and wake both of them now." As if noticing how distracted her grandmother was becoming, Shravya gave her a side hug. "And, of course. Happy Birthday, Dai Maa."

When she pulled back, there was a sad smile on her mouth with a fleeting thought of someone, something in her wondering how he was doing as she recalled how it was Aayush's birthday too --- her Dai maa and Aayush, they both shared a birthday.

Today, it was also his birthday.

--✳❇✳---

The old age home, standing in the middle of tall trees, seemed to be in harmony with the rain, welcoming it like an old lost friend.

Inside, the atmosphere was warm, filled with lots of sound --- the clinking of cutlery, the sound of conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter.

Zaid himself couldn't help but hold a smile of his own by being a part of such a lively ambience as he watched the elderly people gathering to have lunch.

Annie, with her ever-present smile and calming aura, moved gracefully among the residents to approach Zaid. "I hope you're liking it here, Zaid?"

To answer her, Zaid just nodded gratefully. "Thank you for inviting me.

"You're welcome." Annie grinned, then glanced around before whispering conspiratorially. "Trust me, no doctor would want their patient to rot away in isolation. I must also thank you for showing up. I love my job and I absolutely love the cash your brother pays me for each appointment."

Zaid chuckled, shaking his head at the older woman's antics. "My brother says I take advantage of his generosity."

"Can't say I wouldn't do the same if I were in your place." Annie laughed softly, her eyes glinting with mischief before she turned to leave, hearing her name being called. "Oh, excuse me. I'll be back in a moment."

Fondly, Zaid stared at her retreating figure, mentally thanking her again.

He agrees that he had reluctantly accepted her invitation, more out of a sense of obligation than genuine interest, but he was quite enjoying it here now. And, if she hadn't invited him, then he might have been somewhere in the Grover estate at the moment, all alone.

Though, he must admit - this place was actually far. He had to travel all the way from Bengaluru to here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The inviting scent of homemade food was actively wafting through the air as Zaid also busied himself in helping out the Paul couple; Annie and her husband Micheal.

In the middle of carrying the various food containers and pots, he stopped in his way, noticing an old woman sitting by the window, alone and seemingly lost in a world of her own.

"Who's that?" Zaid asked, his voice low, as he nodded towards the woman, stopping Micheal who was passing by.

Micheal followed his gaze and sighed softly. "That's Mrs Khan," he said. "I don't know much, it's not been that long since she came here. But all I can say is that she's been through a lot."

Zaid frowned, his eyes softening as he kept looking at the old lady. "What happened?"

"From what I have heard from others is that many years ago, she lost her husband and young child in a car accident. Since then, she's been like this. She hardly talks, barely eats. It's as if a part of her left with them, and she’s just...waiting," Micheal whispered, his words carrying sadness and empathy.

"You can try talking to her if you want, although I don't think she would respond," With another sigh, he patted Zaid on the shoulder and walked away, carrying a basket full of freshly made bread, while Zaid was left to stare at Mrs Khan.

Not knowing what came over him, he took a deep breath and approached the old woman, his footsteps soft against the polished wooden floor.

He hesitated for a moment, then gently placed a hand on the back of her chair. "Ma'am?"

There was no response. She continued to stare out of the window, the rain reflecting in her distant, sorrowful eyes, and if one looked closely, one would see her lips moving ever so slightly, reciting quiet prayers.

"Ma'am?" Zaid repeated, a little louder this time. "It's lunchtime. Would you like to join us?"

The old woman blinked, as if waking from a dream, and turned her head slowly to look at him. For a moment, silence prevailed as her eyes trailed over his features, slowly and slowly, the specks of confusion, happiness, relief, and pain, descending in her gaze.

"Aap yaha kaise. . . . ." Then, with slow, uncertain movements, the old lady reached out her gnarled hand, brushing over his arm, her frail touch light but somehow feeling heavy and comforting all the same. "Is this a dream?"

(You...how. . . . .)

Silent tears left her eyes as she searched his face and he could only give her a worrisome look in response. "No. It's not, Ma'am."

"Then. . . . How could you be. . ." Zaid watched her expression settling into one of surprise and realisation as she gasped. "Zaryab. Is this you?"

"Zaryab, Mera betaa. . ." Her expression crumbled, and she began to cry softly, her thin shoulders shaking with each sob. "Mera pyaara shehzada. Mera Zaryab."

(Zaryab, my son. My Zaryab.)

Befuddled, Zaid knelt down before her chair, unsure of what to do or say. He reached out, hesitantly, and touched her hand, caressing it softly. "It's okay," he murmured. "It's going to be okay, Ma'am."

"I knew it. I knew my prayers would be answered one day." Her sobs only grew loud, and she looked at him with a mixture of hope and disbelief. "I knew my forbearance would be rewarded."

"My Zaryab." Her trembling hand reached out, brushing against his cheek, her touch light as a feather. "Mera Shehzada, you finally came back to me," she whispered, her voice breaking.

While Zaid could do nothing but hold her trembling hand, comforting her. "It's alright. I'm here now, Mother."

Life seemed to have burdened the old woman enough, and he didn't want to hurt her more by stopping her with the truth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Under the weight of the heavy rainfall, the sky was sulking with dark and gloomy clouds while Zaid silently sat on a weather-worn bench in the park behind the old age home --- the lunch was over and now, he found himself here, relishing nature.

The rain was as riotous as his emotions, soaking him to the bone and stinging his eyes while his heart soaked up all the chaos of those wild drops.

Yet somehow, all of that mute disarray had peace of its own, solacing him so strangely, easing some deep, hidden ache that he hadn’t known he’d been carrying in his chest.

However, that solitude was soon interrupted by the soft patter of tiny feet, drawing his attention to a small figure cloaked in a bright yellow raincoat, a sheer contrast against the dreary backdrop.

Zaid's lips curved into a gentle smile as he watched her, a warmth spreading through his heart at the innocence of her actions - that little girl was trying to pluck out a flower.

Slowly, he rose from his seat and approached the child. With gentle hands, he plucked the flower from its stem, offering it to her. "Here."

Taking the flower from him, the little girl smiled before glancing up at him. And, a strangely familiar pair of coal-black orbs met his own.

The darkness of those eyes seemed the same as his, yet, at the same time, there was such a vast difference.

It was a black night, but it held the stars of naivety and the moon of innocence  --- quite the opposite of his starless void.

Zaid was taken aback at his sudden thought before the girl's laugh pulled him out of his reverie.

"Thank you, uncle," she said, grinning widely.

"Mm. You're welcome. But, you'll get sick out here, so you should probably head back wherever your home is, kiddo." He offered her a smile of his own and affectionately patted her head.

"In that sense, you should also head home, uncle." The girl cutely raised a brow, tilting her head slightly. "You can also get sick, you know."

He laughed quietly and shook his head. "No, I'll be fine."

"But, you should probably go back," he tried to usher her again, when suddenly, a voice sounded, a very concerned voice.

That voice.

Oh, that voice.

It was her. There was nothing about her he wouldn't recognise.

"Kainaat, I told you to not sneak away like that," The urgency in Shravya's voice drew his gaze towards her, his heart skipping a beat as he beheld the worry etched over her beautiful face.

Was it a dream?

Then, I don't want to wake up.

Painfully his breaths moved in and out of his body as his eyes took in her presence with a desperate need, noticing how she walked towards the little girl, holding a big umbrella with a little boy by her side, who was cladded in the same yellow raincoat as the girl.

But, no matter how much it was killing him, he didn't dare approach Shravya, not making even a single step towards her, towards his peace. And just stood on his spot, breath stuck in his throat, his heartbeats accompanying each raindrop that fell from the heavens on the grounds of mortals.

Just like many times before, his heart wished for the impossible; the dark sky of his eyes begged so desperately to hold the brown sun of her hazel orbs, wanting to embrace her so lovingly without diminishing her glow.

His gaze kissed each inch of hers, capturing the sight and storing it for the use of a whole lifetime; who knows when this tricky meeting will ever happen again, or not.

On the other side, still so unaware of his presence, Shravya looked at Kainaat with a small frown before swiftly her eyes looked into his --- and for a moment, time stood still as the two different worlds collided again.

It didn't take the tears even a single more second before they blurred her vision as her arm reached out, trembling. "Kainaat, come here. . . . ."

It was a plea. A cry of someone being scared.

Both of the children looked at their mother with confusion, wondering why she suddenly turned so agitated.

While, as Kainaat approached Shravya with timid and addled footsteps, Zaid silently practiced calling out her name, each letter tasting so sweet on his tongue.

Kainaat - it was a beautiful name, just as angelic as his daughter.

His eyes frantically moved from Kainaat to Samir; it was a wonder in itself that he didn't even need to be told whose children they both were.

Somehow, he just knew that they were his and hers.

Something in him just knew that when his dark eyes met the hazel brown of his son or when he heard his daughter's name from Shravya's mouth.

But they don't know who you are.

A voice whispered within him from somewhere and the world around him spun.

They don't know you.

His knees seemed to be weakening underneath the overwhelming feeling of loss and hurt; in a way, he really was childless, lost away from the joy of fatherhood.

His heart pounded wildly in his ribcage, threatening to rip free of his chest when he looked back at Shravya, seeing an old fearful look in her hazel eyes.

At least, I got to see them.

Then, it was in the next second, a heavy sigh left his mouth and freed his tears from their confinement, letting him break down softly under the hard downpour and finally end the long drought of years.

--- And, how unfortunate it was - the rain again brought you before me. ---

----------------

~ Nothing remains, yet, why does my heart still weave dreams of you?

(कुछ भी नहीं, जब दरमियाँ फिर क्यूँ है दिल तेरे ही ख्वाब बुनता?)

I wished to forget you, but even that proved impossible.

(चाहा की दे तुझको भुला, पर ये भी मुमकिन हो ना सका।) ~

************

She was his beloved captive, his favorite sin.

She was not just a mere habit, she was an obsession.

The incentive of his madness.

She was a miracle that blessed him with numbness to stand against the pain.

Her mere touch made him aware - how it feels to impale yourself with the broken chunks of someone whom you destroyed by your own hands.

Her mere existence made him aware - how it feels to be numb.

-------------------
-----[ The End ]-----
--------------------

If you enjoyed reading do follow my account PanchiVerma  (for Instagram, check out the link in my bio)

Q - So, how was it, guys?

I hope it was up to the expectations. If anyone has any question regarding the plot or characters, drop them in the comment section or you can reach out to me on instagram also.

So yeah, Zaid and Shravya's story ends here.

As I had already said - there's no sad ending. It's an open ending, kinda bittersweet.

The book is completed and is all yours now, please treat it with love, okay?

And, don't remove the book from your reading list for a while; I'll be publishing one last Author's Note, an announcement of a new book (taking place in the same verse) and maybe a bonus chapter?

Please note that, in that bonus chapter I'll be showing more of Zaid and Shravya's past, when they both were lovers.

That's it, thank you again for joining me on this journey.

I love you all 😭❤️