Now the next chapter after this target is completed.

Today's target -
‼️No target. Next update will come on monday.‼️
(But Don't forget to vote & comment)
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तलब है तू, तू है नशा
गुलाम है दिल ये तेरा

खुलके ज़रा जी लू तूझे
आजा मेरी सांसों में आ

मरीज-ए-इश्क हूँ, मैं कर दे दवा
हाथ रख दे तू दिल पे ज़रा
ओ ओ.. हाथ रख दे तू दिल पे ज़रा
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Noor moved quietly through the grand hallway, her saree brushing softly against the polished marble floor. The dim light of the chandeliers reflected off the walls, but the darkness still felt heavy, clinging to her skin like a second layer.

Her hand reached for the door of Aakriti's room, her steps faltering slightly. She couldn't quite place why she felt this unease, but the silence in the air was unsettling, almost suffocating.

She told herself she was just checking on Aakriti, making sure everything was fine. That was all. Yet, her fingers trembled as they reached for the handle.

Unbeknownst to her, Sidharth was watching from the shadows of the hallway, his blue eyes glowing faintly in the moonlight that spilled through the windows. He had followed her, driven by the chaos in his mind and the relentless pounding in his chest. He'd been consumed by thoughts of her-of the peace he knew only she could give him.

And now, here she was, standing in front of his sister's door, unaware of the storm brewing behind her.

Anger flickered through Siddharth, sharp and hot. How could she?

How could she stand here so calmly, so unbothered, when he was unraveling because of her? His jaw clenched, and without a second thought, he moved closer.

Noor froze. A wave of heat swept over her, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She didn't need to turn around to know he was there. The air had shifted, thickened, wrapping around her like a tangible force.

"Sidharth ji?" she whispered, her voice barely audible, her heart pounding against her ribcage.

But he didn't answer.

Before she could react, his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist firmly but not harshly. The sudden contact sent a jolt through her, and a soft gasp escaped her lips. He turned her around with a force that wasn't violent but undeniable, pulling her away from the door, deeper into the dimly lit corridor.

Noor stumbled slightly, her pulse racing as he maneuvered her toward the edge of the hallway. They stopped by an open cutout in the wall, where the cold night air swept in, carrying the scent of the distant forest. The moonlight bathed the space in an ethereal glow, casting sharp shadows over Sidharth's chiseled features.

Her wide eyes met his, confusion and something else-something unspoken-swirling within them. But he didn't give her a chance to speak.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his voice low and laced with an edge of frustration.

"I-I was checking on Aakriti," Noor stammered, her words tumbling out, her breath hitching as his grip tightened slightly.

His teal eyes burned into hers, and she felt as if they were peeling back every layer of her, leaving her bare and vulnerable.

"You were going to sleep there again, weren't you?" he accused, his voice soft yet biting, each word striking like a dagger.

"No!" Noor said quickly, shaking her head. "I was just-"

"You don't belong there," Siddharth interrupted, his tone dropping to a dangerous whisper as he took a step closer. His towering frame seemed to envelop her, and she felt the heat radiating off him, sending a shiver down her spine.

His hand slid down her arm, slow and deliberate, until it rested against her bare waist, where the fabric of her saree gave way to soft, warm skin. Noor's breath caught, and a tremor ran through her as his touch ignited something she couldn't understand.

Sidharth closed his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply as his fingers lingered on her skin.

His head dipped, and he buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing her in. The scent of her-delicate and intoxicating-washed over him, soothing the raging storm inside him, if only for a moment.

Noor froze, her hands trembling as she felt the light graze of his breath against her skin. Her mind screamed at her to step away, to push him back, but her body betrayed her, rooted to the spot, her heart hammering wildly in her chest.

Sidharth didn't move, his lips brushing dangerously close to her ear as he exhaled softly, his voice a mere murmur. "You drive me mad, Noor."

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, as the tension between them reached a breaking point. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, as his presence overwhelmed her, consuming every corner of her mind.

Sidharth's fingers tightened slightly on her wrist, pulling her closer-closer than she had ever been to him. Noor's chest brushed against his, and she let out a soft, involuntary gasp as their bodies met, the heat of his presence engulfing her completely.

His grip on her waist shifted, his strong hands sliding lower, molding her softness against him as if he needed to feel every inch of her, to understand the way she fit so perfectly against him.

He didn't hurt her, but the way his fingers pressed into her waist was firm, possessive, as though letting go wasn't an option. His nails grazed her skin just enough to send a shiver racing down her spine. The touch wasn't cruel, but it was consuming, leaving her unable to move, unable to think.

Sidharth's breathing deepened, and his nose trailed along the curve of her neck, slow and deliberate. His warm breath fanned over her skin, the sensation leaving her trembling in his hold.

He leaned closer, brushing his nose against the delicate line of her collarbone, inhaling her scent like a man starved. Noor's breath hitched, her fingers curling into the folds of her saree, unsure whether to push him away or hold on to something, anything, to keep herself steady.

Every small movement of hers only pushed Sidharth further into his obsession. The softness of her body, the way she fit against him like she was meant to be there, drove him to the edge of sanity.

She wasn't just close; she was everywhere. Her scent, her warmth, the rapid beating of her heart-everything about her - was pulling him in deeper, drowning him in a feeling he couldn't name but didn't want to escape.

He dipped his head further, letting his lips hover just above her skin without touching. His chest rose and fell heavily, the need to breathe overridden by the need to feel her, to consume her.

She was peace; she was chaos.

His mind shut off completely, silenced by the way she felt against him.

Sidharth didn't speak, didn't dare break the fragile spell that had wrapped itself around them. He wanted-no, needed-this moment. Needed her.

He needed to keep her this close, as though she was the only thing tethering him to reality.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he whispered, his voice hoarse, almost a growl, "Mine. My wife."

The words weren't for her to hear. They were a truth he had to say out loud, a claim etched into his very being.

He tightened his hold one last time, pulling her impossibly closer.

For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, the crushing weight in his chest finally easing.

She was the air he needed, the solace his restless heart had searched for, the answer to every unspoken question.

But just as Sidharth was lost in her, Noor winced. It was subtle, but enough to break through the haze clouding his mind. He froze, pulling back just enough to see her face.

Her wide eyes stared up at him, and her lips parted as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing was shallow, matching the wild rhythm of her heartbeat. Shock flickered across her face, mingling with confusion and something else-something unspoken, raw, and vulnerable.

Sidharth's expression softened, though the intensity in his eyes remained. He studied her for a long moment, his chest heaving, his hand still resting on her waist. He didn't apologize, didn't explain. Words weren't necessary.

Noor, however, was trembling. This was the first time anyone had ever touched her like this-this is close, this intimately. The warmth of his body, the coolness of the night air brushing against her exposed skin, the overwhelming presence of Siddharth-it was too much, too fast.

She stumbled slightly, unsure if she could even stand on her own anymore.

Sidharth's grip loosened just a fraction, but he didn't let her go. His eyes stayed locked on hers, and in that moment, everything else disappeared-the world, the past, the uncertainty. There was only them, caught in a storm of feelings neither of them fully understood yet couldn't deny.

Sidharth's gaze fell on Noor's trembling hand, the one she had winced with moments ago. His brows furrowed as his eyes caught sight of the bandage wrapped around her palm-the same bandage he had tied that night.

It hadn't been changed, and the sight of it made something inside him twist. How careless could she be? How could she not bother with herself?

Without a word, he took her hand, his grip firm but not harsh, and started walking toward their room. Noor stumbled slightly as he pulled her along, too dazed and overwhelmed to protest. Sidharth's steps were steady, his body calm, but his mind was in chaos.

The emotions he had been holding back for so long, the questions and confusion, the restlessness-they were all there, but for now, he pushed them aside.

For now, he had accepted her.

He didn't care about the past, didn't care about the future. Those things could wait. Right now, the chaos in his heart demanded peace, and Noor-his wife-was the only one who could give it to him.

She was his wonderland, his solace. And now that he had tasted what it felt like to have her close, to feel her warmth, he couldn't pull away.

Once they were in their room, Sidharth guided her to the bed, making her sit down gently. Noor's heart was pounding so loudly in her chest that she wondered if he could hear it.

Her cheeks were flushed, her hands trembling in her lap. She couldn't meet his eyes; she didn't even know what to say. The air between them was thick with something she couldn't describe-a tension that left her both nervous and breathless.

Sidharth, however, said nothing. His face was unreadable, his actions calm but deliberate. He turned and walked away for a moment, returning with the first-aid kit. Noor's eyes followed him, her breath hitching as he knelt before her, taking her injured hand in his.

The room was silent except for the soft rustle of movement as Sidharth carefully unwrapped the old bandage. Noor couldn't stop herself from staring at him. His features were sharp and focused, and his eyes lowered as he worked. She took in every detail-the curve of his jaw, the way his brows furrowed slightly in concentration, the faint shadow of stubble on his face.

For the first time since their marriage, Noor felt brave enough to look at him like this, to truly see her husband. But only because his eyes weren't on her.

Sidharth's touch was gentle yet firm as he cleaned and rebandaged her hand. Noor's gaze remained fixed on him, her chest tight with emotions she couldn't name. She wasn't used to this-the way he was taking care of her, the way he seemed so...different tonight.

Once he was done, Sidharth stood up, his tall frame towering over her. Noor's wide eyes followed his movements, and when he looked down at her, she froze.

He reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek in a soft, almost hesitant gesture. Her skin burned under his touch, and her breath caught as her gaze darted up to meet his. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Her brown eyes, wide and innocent, locked with his. There was something in her gaze-something unguarded, pure, submissive-that made Siddharth's heart ache in a way he hadn't felt before.

The innocent eyes made him frozen, and a sudden realization drown upon him. In his heart, he the innocent eyes Made their own home without telling him.

A shift happened within him, a feeling he couldn't quite name. His dark eyes grew deeper, darker, as he kept looking at her. Her innocence, her vulnerability-it wrapped around him, pulling him closer, consuming him.

Sidharth's breath deepened, his chest rising and falling as he felt something raw and primal stir inside him. There was a strange magic in her eyes, a pull so strong he couldn't resist it.

He didn't speak, didn't move away. He just stood there, his gaze locked on her, feeling the weight of emotions he didn't fully understand. Noor, sitting on the bed, was still trembling, her lips parted as though she wanted to say something but couldn't.

And Sidharth...he felt the urge to consume her, to claim her, to keep her this close forever. Her innocence had worked its way into his very soul, and he didn't know how to pull back.

Sidharth's steps faltered as he moved away from the bed, the first-aid kit in his hand. His grip on it was tight, his knuckles whitening as he tried to hold on to the last shreds of his control. But it was slipping-falling away faster than he could catch it.

Her eyes haunted him. That vulnerability, the quiet submission she didn't even realize she was offering-it was undoing him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this kind of pull toward someone, this raw and undeniable force that shook his entire being.

Reaching the other side of the room, he placed the first-aid kit down, his hands lingering for a moment, trembling slightly. He turned to glance back at her, standing in the shadows where the dim light didn't reach him. From here, he could see her, the soft glow outlining her figure, but she couldn't see him.

Sidharth's breath hitched.

Noor sat there, her hands gripping the edge of the bed, her posture tense yet unsure, as if she was bracing herself for something she couldn't predict. He could still see the flush on her cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she struggled to steady her breathing.

She had no idea what she was doing to him, how her innocence was tearing through every wall he had built.

The emotions swirling inside him felt foreign, unfamiliar. Desire, yes, but more than that-guilt.

That single wince earlier replayed in his mind, making his chest tighten. It wasn't the kind of guilt that could be brushed off. It clung to him, heavy and unrelenting. The way she had flinched, her silent acceptance of the pain, cut deeper than he expected.

He moved again, his steps deliberate yet hesitant, as though each one took more effort than the last. Kneeling in front of her once more, Siddharth saw Noor's eyes widen, her lips part slightly in surprise.

Her hand instinctively moved as though to stop him. "Aap-Aap uth jay-," she whispered, her voice shaky, unsure. She began to rise, but Siddharth's voice, low and steady, stopped her.

(Please get up)

"Sit.......please," he said, his tone carrying a weight that made her pause.

She stilled, her gaze dropping to her hands, unsure what to do or say. And then, as the silence stretched between them, Siddharth's voice broke it again.

"I'm sorry."

Noor's head shot up, her eyes locking onto his in stunned disbelief.

He didn't elaborate, didn't try to explain or justify his actions. He simply let the words hang in the air. "I'm sorry if I hurt you," he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity. "That wasn't my intention."

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She didn't know how to process this-this man kneeling in front of her, apologizing. Sidharth, who had always been an enigma, was now saying something she hadn't expected, and it left her breathless.

Her heart raced, her mind struggling to make sense of the moment. His face was unreadable, but his eyes-there was something there, something she couldn't define.

And then, for a fleeting second, she thought she saw a flicker of something else-something darker. Consuming

Sidharth, noticing her expression, felt a strange warmth rise within him. Her shock, her quiet confusion-it was all laid bare before him.

His throat worked as he swallowed, his eyes unwavering as he watched her. Noor, still speechless, finally managed to stammer, "It'- It's s okay..."

Her voice was soft, barely audible, but Sidharth heard every word. He stood slowly, his movements deliberate, his gaze never leaving her.

As she sat there, her cheeks flushed, her breathing unsteady. He watched her every move, his eyes dark and intense. And as he stood there, towering over her, Sidharth felt the pull again-raw, undeniable, and all-consuming.

Noor's lips parted slightly, her mind scrambling for something to say, anything to ease the tension that was so thick it seemed to weigh down the air. She stole a glance at Siddharth, who stood before her, his gaze still heavy on her, unreadable yet piercing. Her heart raced, and the remnants of his touch still burned on her skin.

She wasn't sure if it was the heat of the moment or her own nervousness that made her voice come out shaky.

"Woh... raat ho gayi hai... sone ka waqt ho gaya," she whispered, her words faltering as she avoided his eyes.

(It's late... it's time to sleep.)

Sidharth's jaw tightened at her words, but he didn't argue. He didn't trust himself to stay this close to her any longer tonight.

The emotions coursing through him-desire, guilt, confusion-were overwhelming, and he couldn't let himself lose control. Not now. Not yet.

Without a word, he moved toward the bed and lay down on his side, his back slightly turned. The mattress dipped under his weight, but the room was otherwise silent. He felt her hesitation, her small movements as she remained standing.

When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw her fumbling with the pillow. His eyes narrowed as she grabbed the cherry pillow and, to his surprise, headed toward the bathroom with it clutched tightly in her arms.

His jaw clenched, and a spark of irritation flickered in his chest.

What the hell was she doing with that damn pillow?

He didn't say anything, though. He simply lay there, his hands curling into fists as he stared at the closed bathroom door.

Inside, Noor leaned against the sink, her heart pounding. The cool tiles against her back did nothing to calm the heat spreading across her face. She looked up at the mirror, but the sight of her flushed cheeks and wide, nervous eyes made her look away immediately. She shook her head, trying to push the overwhelming thoughts from her mind.

His touch. His nose brushed against her neck. His hand on her waist. His chest was so close that she could feel its warmth.

Her breath hitched at the memory, and she buried her face in her hands, her blush deepening.

How was she supposed to face him now?

She shook her head again, taking a deep breath before quickly changing into something more comfortable. She hugged the cherry pillow tightly, needing something to hold onto as her emotions spiraled.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, she felt Sidharth's eyes on her immediately. The weight of his gaze sent shivers down her spine, but she didn't acknowledge it. Instead, she kept her focus ahead, avoiding looking in his direction, and quietly walked to her side of the bed.

She lay down, clutching the pillow to her chest as though it were a shield. Her back was to him, and she stayed silent, her breaths evening out as she tried to calm herself.

Siddharth's eyes followed her every movement, his mind burning with questions he couldn't voice.

That pillow-why did she need it?

Why did she hug it like it was something more important than anything else?*l

His gaze darkened as his thoughts turned toward the pillow, a ridiculous surge of frustration building.

Stupid thing. Useless piece of fabric. How dare it take her attention away from me?

He turned over, glaring at the ceiling as his jaw ticked. He refused to acknowledge the ugly feeling brewing inside him. It wasn't jealousy. It couldn't be.

It was just-what did that damn pillow have that he didn't?

With a sharp exhale, he closed his eyes and forced his body to relax. His thoughts, however, remained restless, and the sight of her clutching that pillow refused to leave his mind.

Sidharth lay still, his eyes open, fixed on the ceiling as the silence of the room surrounded him. He listened closely to Noor's breathing, waiting for the moment it evened out into the soft, rhythmic sound of sleep. He could feel the tension still lingering in his own body, the undeniable pull toward her that had been growing all evening.

When he was sure she had fallen asleep, he exhaled slowly and turned his head to look at her. She was curled up on her side, and the cherry pillow still clutched tightly to her chest. His gaze softened for a moment before hardening with frustration.

That damn pillow. It wasn't supposed to be there.

Carefully, he shifted on the bed, his movements slow and deliberate as he leaned closer to her. His eyes fell on her lips first, and he froze. They were slightly parted, plump, and inviting, tempting him in ways he hadn't expected.

It was the very first time he saw those lips this close.

His throat tightened as he stared, unable to look away.

His gaze traveled lower, taking her in, the way her chest rose and fell with every steady breath. The curve of her waist, the dip where her arm rested. His control wavered, his body responding to the sight of her so close, so vulnerable, yet so completely unaware of the effect she had on him.

And then his eyes landed on the pillow again, cradled protectively against her chest. His jaw tightened, a frustrated sigh escaping him. Without another thought, he reached out, his fingers brushing hers as he carefully pulled the pillow free. He watched her closely, his heart pounding in case she woke, but she didn't stir.

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the pillow across the room, refusing to spare it another glance. His lips curled in satisfaction, a quiet sense of triumph settling in his chest.

But then his gaze returned to her, falling to her chest once more. The rise and fall of her breathing captivated him, and he couldn't stop himself from imagining... No.

He shook his head slightly, trying to clear the thoughts, but his eyes betrayed him. They trailed lower, landing on her feet.

His heart twisted at the sight of her delicate feet, the payal resting on her feet. His frustration turned into something deeper, something primal. She was beautiful, even like this, especially like this-vulnerable, soft, and his to protect.

He moved closer, his body acting on its own. Kneeling at the edge of the bed, he reached out, his hand brushing against her ankle. His touch was feather-light, reverent, as though afraid to disturb her sleep. Slowly, he brought her foot closer, his lips grazing over the payal first, and then lower, kissing her skin through the metal.

His breath hitched as he kissed her again, the action slow, deliberate, and filled with a raw intensity he couldn't control. Her skin was delicate, soft against his lips, and it stirred something primal within him. He felt a surge of possessiveness, a deep need to claim and protect her in ways words couldn't express.

For a moment, he stayed there, kneeling before her, his lips pressed against her foot, as if worshiping her silently. Then he straightened, his gaze lingering on her as he moved back onto the bed.

He didn't stop there. His hand slipped beneath the hem of her kurti, his fingers splaying against the warm skin of her stomach. Slowly, he pulled her closer to him, his body flush against hers, his chest pressed firmly against her back.

His breath ghosted over her neck, warm and uneven, as he let his hand rest on her waist. His touch wasn't rushed-it was steady, almost hesitant, as though he was afraid of scaring her even in her sleep. But the intensity in his eyes betrayed him, filled with a desire so deep it bordered on desperation.

He didn't say a word. He didn't need to. His actions spoke louder than any words ever could.

Sidharth's gaze fell on her neck, the delicate curve illuminated by the faint glow of the nightlight. His breath caught as memories of earlier that night washed over him-how soft her skin had felt beneath his touch, the way her body had responded, even in her hesitation.

His eyes darkened, his control slipping further as he leaned closer, his face hovering near her neck. The warmth of her skin called to him, and he couldn't resist. Gently, achingly softly, he pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck. It was fleeting, almost hesitant, but it left a mark on his heart he couldn't explain.

She,like she felt it, curled a little more in his grip.

As he pulled back, his lips tingling from the contact, a strange warmth settled in his chest. The restlessness that had plagued him for years seemed to vanish, replaced by an unfamiliar sense of peace. Wrapped in this newfound calm, one that came from her, he closed his eyes.

For the first time after long 2 days, Sidharth embraced sleep without the weight of chaos on his mind, enveloped in the quiet presence of his wife.
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I stood in front of the mirror, my hands trembling slightly as I adjusted the soft orange saree. My cheeks were burning, the blush refusing to fade, no matter how much I tried to distract myself.

My mind kept going back to last night-how everything had shifted so suddenly. How he had hurt me earlier with his cold words, his sharp silences, and the way he kept his distance. I thought I had grown used to it, but it still stung.

But then...he had apologized. His voice, so low and steady, carried a weight that made my heart feel tight in my chest. I could still feel the warmth of his hand on mine, the way his touch had soothed the ache in my heart. It was the first time I had seen him so...so human.

The words he said. He even noticed I was avoiding him. He noticed it.

The memory of his closeness made my skin prickle with a thousand tiny sensations. His gaze-dark, intense, and filled with something I couldn't name-had lingered on me, unraveling every wall I had tried to build.

And then, the way his breath had fanned against my skin, how his nose had traced the curve of my neck... I pressed my trembling hands against the dresser, trying to steady myself.

I could still feel his warmth, his heartbeat so close to mine. It wasn't just the touch; it was the way he made me feel. It was confusing, overwhelming, and yet...comforting. It made me hope for something I had long given up on.

Shaking my head, I tried to focus on getting ready. My fingers fumbled as I tucked the saree pleats into my waist. The fabric felt soft and cool against my heated skin. I adjusted the pallu carefully over my shoulder, stealing a quick glance at the bed behind me.

Again, I was feeling those strong sensations of being watched.

He was still asleep. His face, relaxed and calm, was a stark contrast to the Sidharth I was used to. There was no frown, no tension, just a softness that made my heart clench unexpectedly.

Turning back to the mirror, I slid the bangles onto my wrists one by one, the soft jingle filling the room. The sindoor box trembled in my hands as I applied a thin line at the parting of my hair. The blush on my cheeks deepened as I caught my reflection.

I couldn't stop thinking about how different everything felt. The Sidharth I had seen last night-the one who apologized, who looked at me as if I was something precious-he was someone new. Someone I wanted to understand.

A small, shy smile tugged at my lips as I smoothed my saree one last time. I adjusted the bindi on my forehead and glanced at the bed again. He hadn't moved, still lost in sleep. My heart fluttered at the sight, but I quickly turned away, gathering the courage to leave the room before my thoughts spiraled further.

I stepped out, my saree rustling softly as I made my way to the stairs. My heart was still racing, my chest filled with a strange warmth and a thousand butterflies.

I had just reached the top step when his voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Noor."

My breath hitched. His deep voice carried through the quiet morning, sending a shiver down my spine.

I froze, turning slowly with hesitant steps. My heart raced as I glanced toward the room, unsure of what to expect.

What could he possibly want now?

I stepped into the room, my steps hesitant, my hands clutching the end of my saree as if it could steady my uneven breathing. The morning light spilled softly into the room, and my eyes landed on him immediately.

For a moment, I froze, my heart skipping a beat. He was there-awake now, and... doing push-ups. His broad back moved with each motion, the muscles rippling in a way that made my throat go dry.

How did this happen? Just a moment ago, he was fast asleep, and now... this?

A nervous, almost silly smile tugged at my lips as I bit down lightly, trying to stop it from spreading further. The way he moved with such effortless strength, as if the morning itself was his to conquer-it made me step back, almost as if I'd intruded on something private.

But I didn't leave. My eyes drifted to the tattoo at the back of his neck-a wings tattoo, its meaning still a mystery to me, though I'd caught myself staring at it more than once. Before I could stop myself, I tore my gaze away, my cheeks heating up.

He was shirtless, his skin gleaming slightly, and I... I felt as though I'd forgotten how to breathe properly. My fingers fidgeted with the pallu of my saree, and I looked down, unsure of what to do. The thought of calling him made my heart thud wildly in my chest, but I didn't want to just stand there like a fool.

"Ji..." I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper
(Yes)

He stopped mid-motion, his body still for a moment before he looked up at me. His eyes-those impossibly blue eyes-caught mine, and I felt a strange pull, as if they were drawing me into their depths. They were so bright, so deep, and they seemed to hold a world of thoughts I could never understand.

I quickly looked away, my cheeks burning hotter than before, but my feet remained rooted in place. For a moment, I thought he hadn't heard me, but then his voice came, low and steady.

"Ek chai bana dengi aap?"

(Will you make tea for me?)

The question made me blink, my mind stalling. It wasn't that he had asked me for something-it was the tone, the simplicity of the request that caught me off guard. I stared at him, my lips parting slightly in surprise.

"Ji... Ji, banati hoon," I stammered, nodding quickly. My hands clutched the edge of my saree tighter as I turned to leave, my steps hurried and clumsy.

(Yes...yes I'll make")

Just as I reached the door, his voice stopped me again.

"Aur iss baar... cheeni daaliyega.....please"

(And please put some sugar this time)

The words hit me like a soft jolt, freezing me in my place. My cheeks turned a shade darker as his voice lingered in my ears, almost teasing.

I didn't dare turn back. My lips pressed together as a small, shy smile spread across my face, and I hurried out of the room, my heart racing.

His words replayed in my mind as I descended the stairs, a strange, ticklish warmth spreading through me.

Hey bhagwan!
______________________________________

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