Oh I have soooo much to say, but I'll wait till the end to confess! :") Enjoy the read now (also I'm on a roll with these updates, gosh!)

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At the sight of his blood on his fingers, it all came back to him – the disconnected battery, the secluded road, and the fence... all of which were barriers in their way of making it out of the mansion unspotted. Just like how all his seemingly selfless actions – to protect his group and his people – had become detrimental consequences to a proportion of a population that was innocent.

If something happened to him in the mansion, she would have to bear the brunt of its consequences. If anyone found her while he couldn't be around to protect her...

No, there was no room for that possibility to manifest itself. He had to get himself together.

Urgency surged through him as he shifted his gun to his bloodied hand, fumbling for something in his pocket. He needed the privacy of the bathroom. Nearly tripping over himself in the process, his palm slapped the cold plastered wall for support, and he gasped, pain splitting through his chest like a jagged knife. Ripping him into two parts.

A panicked Nandini, who had been commanded to remain in her position, fetched her handkerchief but abandoned the rest of her pink tote and its contents at her spot. She rebuked him and briskly came ahead to hold his bicep as her other hand hovered around his back, debating on whether or not to suggest he take her support.

On one hand, after all the pain he had caused her and several other innocent lives by partaking in horrible acts, he deserved to bleed. In fact, even his blood couldn't compensate for it all, but the logically flawed, despicable side of her that sensed a flicker of remorse and still cared for him itched to extend a hand... especially when he was incapable of protecting himself.

Manik instead yanked himself away, his deprived body dragging to the opposite side, and slumped. His phone and his gun clattered to the floor, startling Nandini but not him. He heaved a fresh breath; all he needed was just a minute, and then he would make his way to the washroom, freshen up, snort or lick up the powdered substance and... be back to normal again.

Back to retrieve the locket he had demanded.

Between his wheezing breaths, he turned a blind eye to the sweat beads embedded on his face and formidable frame that shook violently, scorching on the outside but chilly from within.

Was he cold?

Nandini propped to her knees beside him, eyed his naked shoulders and then the blazer she was cloaked in. She took it off and stretched the inside of the shoulder pads across his chest, covering him but he shrugged it away. Without taking it to heart, Nandini yet again attempted to attach the two ends to his frame. Manik intended to ball it up and shove it across the room, but as he stretched a limb, the energy it expended ditched his efforts midway through.

His eyes were scrolled shut, and he was barely moving. The scenario was alarming her.

Was it maybe her fault for pushing him over the edge, she frightfully wondered. She was only trying to make him understand the gravity of the situation... to put his mistakes into perspective and to propose an alternative solution – one that did not involve defending or protecting criminals. Including himself, she reminded herself uncomfortably.

She did not think anything she said or did could stress him out to such a deep extent.

There was certainly something he hadn't told her about himself, regarding his health.

"What's happening to you?" Gently posing the essential question, which could help her weigh in on what to do to resolve his incompetence, Nandini rolled her handkerchief into a point and dabbed the area where fresh blood was trailing down.

She was doing it in a manner similar to how on their first date, Manik dabbed oil off the corner of her lips while she downed some Mangalorean bajjiyaan.

His gaze softened at both the impact of her touch and the tender memory that affixed itself to a part of his heart. The blood stained her handkerchief. Yet again, she salved his blood – his wounds – with something that was personal to her – be it her handkerchief or her kurti from earlier that night, that tended to the aftereffects of her punch against his bruised lip.

Unsure of whether it was his fear of dying in her arms or his fear that he would lose her entirely, there was a sudden sense of clarity in his thoughts. He had no doubts about what he felt for her.

Encircling her wrist with a soft yet warm hold, he separated it from above his lip. "Finish the rest of your speech," he probed softly, as if increasing his audibility by a decibel would end his life.

Why was he talking to her as if those were his last few moments with her, as if those last sentences had to be something powerful and impactful?

"Not now..." she croaked, her eyes welling up at the guilt.

Straining his breath, Manik mumbled, "No. I want to hear it now. What explanation do you think justifies an eternal loser's actions, hmm? Kya matlab nikaala hai inn sabka tumne?" His emphasis on the words, along with his detached humour in a situation that was life-threatening, implied how she had also pricked him exactly where it hurt. 

As he winced again, patting his heart, Nandini merely blinked. There had to be something she could do... some action to change the course of his fate.

"Paani chahiye, haan?" She didn't even wait for his approval. "Main paani lekar aati hoon." As she rose to her feet, she missed the hand that painfully reached out for her. Not willing to part with her.

His heart could not give up on him, or give up pumping at that moment. No. He had to buy himself more time – with her – for the things he wished to say but couldn't. For words she wished to hear all those months but couldn't.

That willpower brought with it a limited supply of energy. The blazer she propped fell off his shoulders when he felt his work phone, gripped it and mechanically slid the backcase with his thumb. His blood tacked on the plastic backing, but his fingers lacked the usual sense of urgency he had when he usually consumed.

The motivations behind his actions were different; all he wanted was to be well enough – just enough – to get her out of the house safely. Not to give in to any other effects of the drug.

He slapped the battery out and pulled out the tiny micro SD card that was lodged in a slot. The small micro SD card was lifted to his eye level, and examined as it doubled in his field of vision.

Nandini filled up a glass with tap water. As she turned, a thought crossed her mind. She lifted the rim to her lips, tasting it herself and verifying it was potable... safe... before approaching him with it.

He was observing something like a microchip intently as she crossed the island in the mansion. If she had paid more attention to the layout of the house, she would have admired that element within the kitchen, a unit perfect to have a potluck with her best friends.

The next thing she witnessed, amidst a forwarding stumble, was his mouth ajar.

Black plastic laid on his tongue like a tablet.

Her eyes bulged at the gesture and grew starkly concerned as his eyes scrolled shut. Was he bloody crazy?!

"Yeh tum kya kar rahe ho?" She rushed, setting the glass beside the remaining fragments of his phone. What if he choked in his state?

As she slapped his cheeks to make him respond and brainstormed alternative ways to get the piece out, she vaguely registered how his legs were stretched out and how the muscles on his face appeared visibly relieved... as if he had indeed popped a medication pill.

Or drugs.

Nandini's heart literally plummeted.

It should have not come as a surprise that Manik did drugs; after all, did he not drug her that night? What bothered her was the way he had snuck it in a phone and found such instant peace in consuming it... it was clear proof that it wasn't his first time and certainly would not be his last.

She rushed back to her bag, hunting for her phone. As the screen flickered, the top bar that usually displayed signal strength was only filled to one bar. Still, she tried her luck to make a call to Soha's phone – at least to notify her that she needed help. The line did not even ping.

Justifying the ache in her chest cavity as it was one thing to be exposed to drugs in a setting where getting help was not an issue: she analysed how in college when her peers did it irresponsibly, if things escalated, someone could intervene and help out.

In that dungeon where there was no realistic way to get immediate help, the scenario seemed darker.

That was why she was worried, definitely not because she was hurting for him.

Nandini helplessly sat on her knees before him, her tears uncontrollable at the sight before her. "Manik, open your mouth, I want to see something." He did not move a muscle. "Manik, I'm asking you something?" Urging him in the same manner that he did, when asking about whether some goons touched her, Nandini felt her hope dissolving.

The twist in her stomach grew at the threat surrounding them.

As much as she had wanted to hurt him on multiple occasions, the thought of completely losing him forever in a chamber where she could not get out and save him by herself was incapacitating. What could she possibly say to make him listen?

Something sparked her memory.

"Tumhe woh – woh locket chahiye tha na, main tumhe de dungi. I'll give you whatever you want, do whatever you ask of me, please just open your mouth na," She shook his head between her fingers, "Manik," Her arms looped his neck, drifting into his hair as she rested a chin on his shoulder, bawling her eyes out.

Manik stilled in her unexpected embrace. No, she was not merely crying. She was in agony, and that too because of him – his actions, but not just for everything he did to her... she was crying for him. Out of concern for him.

That sort of unconditional care, despite the fact that he had shattered her blind faith in him, hit Manik really hard in the gut.

Overwhelmed by her cries that stabbed his heart with a thousand needles, a pacifying arm of his hugged her waist tightly, welcoming her proximity with open arms. He reeled in the blend of his cologne and her scent, never having felt so safe before.

With stunning clarity, Nandini broke apart from the momentary hug she lost herself in, clearing her cheeks of her tears. Was she... was she manipulated into giving him exactly what he wanted all along? Because impulsively, in a moment of emotional weakness, she had just promised him the most important thing that tied Harshad and the corrupted chief to one another.

The locket that belonged to Navya was piece of evidence that could bring something dark to the surface and provide justice to innocent souls who had lost something significant in their lives because of one person's greed.

Yet she had sacrificed it for one person's well-being.

As he drew the card out of his mouth with his free hand, letting it clink on the ground, Nandini realised that a small piece of black plastic had cost her everything. Her morals, her self-respect and most importantly, her ability to trust anyone else ever again. Including herself.

"Harshad mera dost nahi hai," He answered, addressing one of the concerns floating through her mind at the same instance. The truth – that she desperately wished to know about all those months – was finally being revealed to her, as if giving her closure now that her part in the game had been played.

You were never part of the plan; was that a lie too, then? Her beaded eyes matched his eye level, scouting if she ever meant anything more to him.

"In fact, it's the exact opposite; he has always been our rival. I know I may have done a lot of terrible things – especially with regards to you – but I have never harmed an innocent person, and I never will. So you are right, it hurts me... to hurt you, Nandini."

She was blinking; she tried to repeatedly flutter those lashes and confirm to herself that everything she was hearing was indeed real, yet she remained mute. His fingers combed the bangs that fell on one side of her face, pushing it behind her ear, revealing the gorgeous mini jhumka he had scouted for in their car.

Softly smiling at the beautiful memory that he would no longer get to experience with her, he shared another figment of truth with her.

"Mere saath pata nahi kya ho jaata hai jab main tumhaare saath hota hoon toh... I just change."

Before Nandini could react or counter, he grabbed one of her hands and pulled her in – to feel her for one last time. She gloriously palmed his shoulders for support, her fragrant hair curtaining both of them. Merely mesmerised, he gently admired her innocent features and brushed a dried tear stain off her cheek.

Rolling her eyes shut, she selfishly let herself feel the moment for as long as she could, as if it were a tiny reward of affection for the enormous price she had just paid him. Because she wasn't just ruining herself... she was taking down a lot of lives down with her, including those of her friends, by surrendering the most precious object in her possession.

Was it at all worth it?

Nandini glanced down at his palm that softly stroked her; did she have the right to expect an answer from him? For the very first time in her life, kisike itne kareeb hokar bhi, she could not fully understand him.

She had given someone something more than just her heart, and yet she felt she had no right on him.

"Manik, mujhse aur nahi hoga..." Nandini quipped, breaking into a cry.

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This is one of my favourite chapters so far! I'm literally teary, warm and fuzzy all at once, I can explain why (huge rant incoming so feel free to skip if you don't want to read!) :")

Every MaNan fan raves about Manik's love for Nandini and how it's so surreal, and I get it! :") I have such a soft corner for Manik too and as a girl, deep down we all want to be loved by someone like Manik.

I'm specifically implying S1 in this write-up because it was the segment of our show I connected with the most: be it spot-girl scenes, Fab 5 vs NH3 days, Musicana time, post Musicana breakup or even beyond... jungle track, hospital track and Soha entry scenes... in their whole "falling in love" phase, the whole fandom unanimously loves Manik for the person he is, but don't often give enough credit to Nandini.

I think the reason Manik is so loved by everyone is because Nandini loves him that way... so unconditionally, accepting of all his flaws from the start, instead of refusing to love him because of those, or holding her feelings hostage in order for him to change himself <3 Instead, they both changed in order to accommodate one another, to be better for one another without punishing each other for their flaws.

And this story is about that... how one can be very headstrong about many things — many beliefs and ideologies — but when it comes to love, everything is a form of surrender.

In saying that, I want to underline that I am not glorifying immorality (even though I have a thing for dark romance :P) and I agree I am kind of biased when it comes to our show's OG cast.

Toxic traits can be explained but not justified, but that doesn't make anyone less worthy of love (if that was the case, many villains would not even exist — many of those are motivated by the prime desire to unite with their lover, you know?) Sometimes, that love — even in such extreme circumstances — alone becomes a catalyst for someone to be better. To think beyond oneself, and try to be better for someone else :")

Manifesting not to be loved like Manik, but to love someone like Nandini does.