"No luck today either, Jiji. Not a single company shortlisted me," said Shikha Agarwal, slumping into the merely functional wooden chair, which offered neither comfort nor adequate support for the curve of the lower back. The chair, like her circumstance, offered her no respite from the tension plaguing her.

Sunaina placed her hand over her younger sister's shoulder with her eyebrows knitted together in worry. "Do they ask about the delay?"

Shikha shook her head in the negative with a clenched jaw. "They don't ask, but they start to appear less interested after I reveal my age. I try to explain, Jiji, but they never listen. It's almost like they assume I failed a few times and that's the reason I'm twenty-five and still in my final year."

The resounding whips of remorse left Sunaina's eyes glistening with hints of tears. "If the orphanage hadn't closed down because of those corrupt politicians, it wouldn't have happened. Maybe I should have taken on more students for tuitions. I'm so sorry, Shikha!"

"No, Jiji! You were still in college," said Shikha, intertwining her fingers with those of her elder sister. "You did the best you could. We did the best we could."

Sunaina gave a tight-lipped smile to Shikha and the latter's compassionate words had only added fuel to the raging blaze of remorse consuming the elder sister. Her staggered breaths grew shallow and shorter with every passing second, and a familiar constriction developed in her chest. The rattling breath did not escape Shikha's notice, whose eyelids receded further into her skull as realization gleamed in her eyes.

"No, no. I'll get your inhaler, Jiji. Just give me a second! One second!" she said, jumping to her feet and racing towards the table to retrieve the inhaler. Her shaky fingers grasped the inhaler, and her heart sank when the cannister appeared lighter than usual. With a quivering lower lip, she thrust the cannister into her sister's clammy hands only to see the puffs were feeble. The medication in the cannister was scarce.

Shikha dashed to rummage through the house to find a second one with her heart pounding away at her ribcage with relentless frenzy. But every opened drawer, every cupboard thrown open, and every bed searched had left the heaviness of disappointment over her chest. She pulled her phone out of the pocket of her kurta and dialled the number of her sister's fiancé.

___________________

"Rajeevji, hurry! I am sure we would find a store which is open and would have Jiji's medication. Oh God, how can I be so irresponsible?"

"Happens to the best of us, Shikha. We will find the pharmacy, but my actual concern is about the patrolling personnel who might find us and question. What will we answer them?" said a very concerned Rajeev Malhotra, because he knew lying to them would only worsen the consequences.

"Nothing of that sort will happen, Rajeevji. Trust Bholenath! He will save us from this predicament," assured Shikha, confident about her favorite deity, Lord Shiva, as she tried to ignore the same question buzzing in her mind from the time she had stepped over the threshold of her home.

The nightmare at the back of her mind turned into the stark reality. The patrolling goons had arrived there, walking into the main road from the left alley with golf sticks to beat up anyone who violated the rules laid down by their overlord.

They found two figures walking towards them. The girl holding the apparatus in her hand which was not clear to them because of the distance and the darkness which surrounded them. A smirk pulled the leader's lips to a side as he imagined the reward from their Singhal Sahab for catching the violators, which was a rare occurrence.

"Aye, both of you! Stop!" he yelled, stepping towards them, and realizing that she held an asthma pump. Although he realized they might be out to buy the essentials, he did not dare to let go of them or his reward for presenting them to his boss.

An intense shiver ran through their spines as the bitter voice pierced through the thick silence and resonated in their ears. Almost as an instantaneous and involuntary response, their feet turned into rock and they stood fixed to their place, but not before exchanging petrified looks to each other.

"Introduce yourselves! Are you not aware of the rules?" came a question from one of the gang members.

Rajeev felt a gulp form in his throat as he knew it was his responsibility to answer, being elder than Shikha and being the one to insist she accompanied him to cover more distance.

"Ji, I am Rajeev Malhotra and she is Shikha Agarwal," replied Rajeev in a shivering tone, eying the burly men playing with the golf sticks in their hands as if their hands were itching to beat them into pulp.

"Why are you here?"

"We are buying medicines for my sister, Bhai Saheb!" said Shikha. Shikha had confirmed the leader's doubts, and he hoped they could answer his next question convincingly to avoid any tragic repercussions. He had taken up the job to round up on pimps, overenthusiastic lovers, and drug-dealers. Not someone who had genuine reasons, like the duo trembling in front of him.

"And how are you both related to each other?" asked the leader, raising his eyebrow.

"She-She is my fiancée's..."

Before Rajeev could complete what he intended to say, the goons pushed him to the ground, and a yelp escaped his lips. "Do we look like idiots to you? Fiancée?!"

Shikha stood transfixed with her eyes splayed open and lips parted. Although the restrictions placed upon them gave her immunity, for being a female, from the being at the receiving end of some atrocities, the dread pooled in the pit of her abdomen with no chance of respite.

"Please don't hit him!" pleaded Shikha, holding the stick which dealt blows to Rajeev, and hoping that they would listen to her words.

Angered by her actions, the goon pushed her away, making her lose her balance and she prepared herself for a painful fall, but nothing could have prepared her for the jolt of pain that through her lower limbs when her hips crashed against the rough ground.

Despite the stinging at her foot, after a possible abrasion, and the debilitating agony shooting down her legs, Shikha mobilized herself using her arms to plead with the leader of the group when the headlights of car blinded her with their glare.

The arms of the men mauling Rajeev had frozen when they registered the number of the car, which arrived to a smooth halt. Through scrunched eyes, as the headlights died along with the roaring engine of the black sedan, Shikha yearned to establish the identity of the interruption.

It was Vikram Singhal, the man who made everyone dance according to his tunes or to the tunes of death.

"How many times have I told you to not show your strength on a girl?" he shouted at the gang-leader, who hung his head in fear.

All the goons stood with their heads hanging in reverence and cowering in fear. Rajeev had stood up with a great difficulty. Vikram's eyes traveled to the struggling form of Shikha, who swayed, trying to rise to her feet. On instinct, Vikram offered her a hand.

Terror made Shikha's breath hitch in her throat, but she dared not to refuse the hand extended by the kingpin, who could save their lives. She placed her hesitant hand over his, and his firm grip over hers allowed her to balance herself despite the adrenaline rush dizzying her.

Vikram had a different rush coursing through him. The innocent blush on the apple of her cheeks, her heaving breaths, and her deep oceanic orbs filled with tears weaved a wondrous web around his heart.

A wave of protectiveness took over him as he realized the woman in his arms was in tears. He desired to remove the cause of her tears and pondered how beautiful her eyes would appear when they beamed with happiness instead.

Shikha shivered by his side, petrified by the possibility that his arrival marked more trouble for Rajeev and herself. It did not take him long to notice her reactions to him, and realize they were out of fear rather than attraction as he would like it to be. Vikram mentally cursed himself.

Vikram moved closer to Shikha and held her shoulder before speaking to her in a low tone.

"Don't worry! No one will hurt you and your..." asked Vikram, almost flinching at the thought that Rajeev might be her boyfriend.

"To be-Jijaji," said Shikha, in a meek tone, clutching the end of her dupatta, which hung down by her side.

"And your name?"

His saccharine sweet tone confused everyone but Shikha, who was changing her opinion of the man beside her. Rajeev, who considered Shikha as his honorary sister, had his second thoughts about why Vikram behaved out of the ordinary with Shikha, but there was no way he could voice them without getting them killed.

"Shikha. Shikha Agarwal."

The slight smile on her lips only enamored and enticed him further. Her naïve smile and her transparency beguiled him - a complete contrast of his own malicious smirk and shrewdness.

And Vikram was just realizing why they said what they said: opposites attract.

Disclaimer: This is a slow-burn romance. The protagonists would not confess their undying love for each other within just a few updates.

The protagonists are flawed, and come with their own set of insecurities, priorities, strengths, and weakness.  I based them on real people, and hence their actions are far from ideal. Both the main characters are selfish and manipulative in their own ways, and if you believe selfishness is a virtue for men and a blemish for women, then this story is not for you.

The story which does not feature a very forgiving or a selfless heroine, which might be a deal-breaker for a few of you. It also doesn't brush ill deeds under the carpet for a rushed happy ending. It is the journey of two flawed individuals, how they help each other evolve and become better versions of themselves.

The story was written with an intent to show how gullible boys and girls are trapped in the web of love and deceit, both online and offline, and how such manipulation crumbles their self-esteem. Story is Shikha's journey from ignorance to knowledge and Vikram's journey from being conqueror to a bestower.

Constructive criticism and suggestions is always welcome. But I request you to refrain from comments with veiled mockery, taunts, name-calling, and personal remarks. Those comments stay with me and haunt me for days, like most authors, and sometimes even nights. If you want to criticize a scene/action/sentence, please base your opinion in logic, because experiences and morality are subjective, and no one really likes to get called out on their experiences or morals.