Now, the next chapter after this target is completed.

Today's target -.
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ये मोह मोह के धागे
तेरी उंगलियों से जा उलझे

ये मोह मोह के धागे
तेरी उंगलियों से जा उलझे

कोई तो तो ना लागे
किस तरह गिरह ये सुलझे

है रोम रोम इकतारा
है रोम रोम इकतारा
जो बादलों में से गुज़रे

ये मोह मोह के धागे
तेरी उंगलियों से जा उलझे

कोई तो तो ना लागे
किस तरह गिरह ये सुलझे

तू होगा ज़रा पागल, तूने मुझको है चुना
तू होगा ज़रा पागल, तूने मुझको है चुना

कैसे तूने अनकहा, तूने अनकहा सब सुना
तू होगा ज़रा पागल, तूने मुझको है चुना

तू दिन सा है, मैं रात
आ ना दोनों मिल जाएं शामों की तरह

ये मोह मोह के धागे
तेरी उंगलियों से जा उलझे

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Noor heard him, but the words tangled in her throat. She couldn't answer. Her mind was running wild, torn between trust and fear, between wanting and fearing. She trusted him.

She wanted him-yet a tremor of uncertainty clung to her ribs. The feeling of having someone this near made her stomach crunched. And then, with a breath that barely made a sound, she gave him a shy nod.

Sidharth's gaze darkened, but his lips curved with something softer than hunger. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her lips-not a kiss of desire, not one of greed-but something sweet, something reassuring. It was an encouragement, a silent promise that she was safe with him, that this was hers to give and his to cherish.

With that, he lifted her effortlessly into his arms, feeling the warmth of her bare skin against his own, and carried her to the bed. He moved slowly, as if savoring every second, as if she were something fragile yet precious beyond measure. Noor's breath hitched, her fingers grasping at his shoulders, anchoring herself to the only certainty in the storm of sensations overtaking her.

Gently, he laid her down against the soft sheets, his own body hovering just above hers. He took a moment to look at her-cheeks flushed, eyes heavy with emotion, lips slightly parted as if awaiting a whisper. A shuddering breath escaped her, and Sidharth felt something deep in his chest tighten painfully.

He reached out, tracing his fingers down her side, the warmth of his palm settling against her hip. "Noor," he murmured, his voice rough yet careful, as if testing the weight of her name in the silence between them. His thumb grazed the waistband of her pajama, his other hand cradling her face, tilting it ever so slightly so she had no choice but to look at him.

Sidharth let Noor down gently, his hands lingering on her waist as if afraid to let go. His deep blue eyes locked onto hers, unwavering, filled with something far beyond mere desire. "Main hoon," he whispered giving a light squeeze to the soft curve of her waist. A silent promise.

("I am here"),

Then, slowly, he pulled back. His hand, still resting on the waistband of her pajama, tugged it down just a little, his fingers grazing her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. His gaze never faltered. Noor, feeling the intensity of his stare, turned her head to the side, unable to meet his eyes. Yet, Sidharth was patient. He gently slid the fabric down, unveiling her inch by inch until only a delicate layer of cloth remained between them.

Carefully, he lifted one of her legs, bare and trembling, placing a kiss just above her ankle before shifting between her thighs. Noor's breath hitched. His presence between her legs was not one of hunger but of reverence. Her knees rested against his strong frame, and yet, his eyes never strayed from her face. Not once.

Leaning in, Sidharth pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, his warmth sinking into her skin. His hands found her cheeks, cupping them gently, tilting her face towards him. Noor's lashes fluttered, her breath uneven. And then, his voice came, deep, soft, holding a weight she could feel in her bones.

"Mai dekh sakta hu aapko, Cherry?"
("Can I look at you, Cherry?")

Hearing him, Noor's eyes opened, hesitant but trusting. And in that moment, as their gazes locked, time seemed to still. His blue eyes burned with something raw, something sacred. It was not possession but devotion. Not demand, but worship. A silent vow passed between them, a love so deep it could shake the heavens.

Her lips parted, words lost in the gravity of his stare. Sidharth's hands remained firm, grounding her, anchoring her. This was not about wanting-it was about needing, about belonging, about the undeniable truth that they were each other's in a way the world would never understand.

Noor shuddered, her fingers gripping onto his wrist, silent permission in her touch. And for Sidharth, that was everything. He leaned in once more, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her cheek. "I will never break your trust," he vowed, his voice nothing but a hushed promise.

And then, slowly, reverently, he dipped his head, his lips finding hers in a kiss that spoke of every emotion he could not put into words.

And yet, the night was still young, and their story had just begun.

Noor's breath hitched as Sidharth's hand, warm and steady, slid from her cheek, trailing downward with a reverence that sent shivers through her spine. His fingers, rough yet worshipful, traced the delicate curve of her body until they settled over her softness. He cupped her, his grip firm yet unbearably gentle, as if she were something sacred.

A quiet gasp escaped her, only to be swallowed by his lips, claiming hers in a kiss both possessive and tender, slow and deep, as though he was branding her soul with his devotion.

Her fingers trembled as they tangled into his hair, pulling him closer, yet he pulled back, forcing her to open her eyes. The air between them thickened, humming with tension. His blue eyes burned into hers, holding unspoken promises, unrelenting trust, and something deeper-something raw and inescapable. Noor swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his stare, the depth of what they were, of what they had become.

Sidharth leaned in, his breath warm against her skin as he pressed a lingering kiss to the small mole near her lips. The touch was soft, yet it sent fire coursing through her veins. Her lips parted slightly, her eyes squeezing shut as the heat pooled low in her stomach. His lips lingered for a fraction longer before he pulled back, his gaze darkening as he memorized every reaction she gave him, every unguarded moment that belonged only to him.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he shifted, lifting his body slightly before lowering his head. He took her mangalsutra which was resting in between her breast & pressed a kiss over it before moving it aside. Then his lips ghosted over the peak of her nipple, teasing, testing, a whisper of heat that sent a violent shiver down her spine. Noor's body tensed, her breath caught in a sharp gasp, her fingers digging into his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin as if grounding herself in this moment.

Siddharth lingered, his lips brushing reverently before his tongue flicked out, barely grazing over her sensitive peak. The sensation was devastating, a slow unraveling that left her trembling beneath him. A choked whimper left her lips, her thighs instinctively tightening around his waist, a silent plea, an unconscious surrender. His hand, still firm around her waist, pulled her impossibly closer, molding her to him, a perfect fit, a perfect claim.

His eyes flicked up, searching for her reaction, and what he found ignited something dark and consuming within him-her lashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her breath uneven as she fisted the sheets beneath her.

And Sidharth, who had restrained himself for so long, who had not once let his gaze wander lower while she laid almost bare for him, now knew-he had her. Entirely.

Sidharth's breath came hot against her skin, his gaze dark and unwavering as he held her captive beneath him. The room felt heavier, thick with the weight of unspoken desires and an intimacy that burned between them like an untamed fire. His hands, steady and sure, slid from her waist, fingertips tracing the delicate curve of her ribs before splaying wide across the bare skin of her back, pulling her flush against his warmth.

Noor gasped at the contact, her fingers trembling as they curled into his shoulders, her body arching instinctively to meet him. He rewarded her response with another slow, lingering kiss-one that was deep, unhurried, and impossibly consuming, as though he was determined to imprint himself into her soul.

His lips left a scorching trail, moving lower, kissing every inch of her skin. Noor's breath hitched when his mouth found the valley between her breast, his kisses slow, his tongue tracing delicate patterns that made her shudder beneath him. He was patient, deliberate, taking his time as though memorizing every reaction, every silent plea her body gave him.

As his hands roamed lower, he pressed a firm kiss just above her navel, his fingers grazing the soft skin of her thighs, making her tremble. The way he touched her was reverent yet possessive, a silent promise that she was his-entirely, irrevocably.

Noor's chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, her hands now clutching his hair as he descended further, his lips ghosting over her skin, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on her thighs. The anticipation, the sheer depth of what they were sharing, sent a shiver down her spine, a mixture of trust, devotion, and an unshakable yearning that consumed them both.

She was his. And he was hers. In every way that mattered.

Sidharth's lips trailed upward once more, his movements slow, calculated, as if savoring the journey back to her. Noor shivered beneath him, every nerve ending in her body alive, responding to his touch, his kisses, the heat of his breath ghosting over her skin.

When he reached her chest again, he lingered, his lips brushing over her already-sensitive skin. Noor's breath stuttered, her back arching slightly as if offering herself to him, surrendering to the storm he had created inside her. He exhaled softly, his warm breath fanning over her hardened peak, making her tremble beneath him.

A deep, satisfied hum rumbled from his chest as he finally closed his lips around her, his tongue swirling in slow, teasing circles before he sucked lightly, testing, tasting, memorizing the way she gasped, the way her fingers curled tighter into his hair, her nails scraping against his scalp. The sound she made-half a whimper, half a plea-unraveled something inside him, something dark and consuming, something that had been restrained for too long.

He sucked harder this time, his tongue flicking against her sensitive bud before he pulled away, only to take her in again with a slow, deliberate bite. Noor's sharp gasp filled the silent room, her body jolting beneath him, her thighs pressing against his hips as if seeking an anchor.

He couldn't get enough of it.

Sidharth groaned at the reaction, his hands gripping her waist, fingers pressing into her soft skin as he repeated the motion-sucking, teasing, biting-until she was writhing beneath him, her breath uneven, her body trembling.

He finally pulled back, his lips swollen, his gaze dark and unrelenting as he looked up at her. Noor's eyes fluttered open, her chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven breaths, her lips parted, her body pliant beneath him.

Sidharth's thumb traced the curve of her ribcage, his touch possessive, reverent. He took in the sight of her-flushed, vulnerable, breathtakingly his. The realization sent a fresh wave of obsession crashing over him, his control slipping, his restraint unraveling.

And he wasn't done with her yet.

Sidharth didn't stop. He couldn't.

His lips moved to her other breast, his hunger growing with every passing second. He kissed her slowly, deliberately, letting her feel the heat of his mouth before he took her in, his tongue flicking against her sensitive peak. Noor whimpered, her fingers fisting his hair, her nails dragging against his scalp as he sucked-deeper, harder-his more pouring into every movement.

He wanted her trembling, wanted her breathless, and wanted to feel the way her body surrendered beneath him. And she did.

He nipped at her, his teeth grazing over her softness before soothing the bite with his tongue. Noor gasped, her back arching, pressing into him, seeking more, but he held her steady, forcing her to take every sensation at his pace. His hands roamed over her waist, gripping her, anchoring her as he tormented her with slow, lingering kisses, sucking, teasing, biting-again and again-until she was nothing but gasps and whimpers beneath him.

But he wasn't satisfied. Not yet.

His darkened blue-eye drank her in, taking in her heaving chest, her flushed skin, the way she struggled to catch her breath. A smirk tugged at his lips.

And then he began his descent.

Hot, open-mouthed kisses trailed down her breast, his stubble scraping against her soft skin, leaving behind a path of fire. Noor trembled, her stomach tightening as he moved lower, his lips ghosting over her navel.

She didn't know why the anticipation felt so unbearable, why every touch of his mouth sent electric shocks through her veins, but when he finally reached her navel, her entire body tensed.

Sidharth paused for a moment, exhaling against her skin, letting her feel his breath, letting her know what was coming.

Then, he placed his lips over her navel and sucked-deep, hard, his tongue swirling against the sensitive dip.

Noor's body jerked in response, a sharp cry escaping her lips as she clutched his shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh. The sensation was too much, too intense, yet she didn't want him to stop. He groaned against her skin, his large hands gripping her waist, holding her in place as he continued-kissing, licking, sucking-his obsession growing with every sound she made.

Beneath him, she felt small, delicate, utterly consumed by the size of him, by the strength of his body pressing into her. He was overwhelming in every way-his presence, his heat, the sheer dominance in the way he held her, touched her, worshiped her like she belonged to him.

And in that moment, she did.

Sidharth finally pulled away from her navel, his breath heavy, his lips still tingling with the taste of her skin. His hands, firm and possessive, lingered over her waist for a moment before he slowly sat up.

And for the first time that night, he let his eyes roam.

Down to up.

His gaze swept over her bare body, golden in the dim light, glowing with the sheen of sweat. Her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her skin flushed, marked with his kisses, his bites, his obsession. Lower-her stomach, the delicate curve of her waist leading down to where her legs lay bare, soft, trembling, except for the last piece of fabric covering her a little.

Black.

The contrast against her skin made his breath hitch.

His Noor.

She looked enthralled, lost in the sensations he had given her, her body still trembling under his touch. And Sidharth-he had never seen something so devastatingly beautiful. He wanted to worship her, devour her, and make her his over and over again.

His body moved on instinct, his desire guiding him.

He leaned down, this time towards her lips, brushing against them but not taking them just yet. His breath mingled with hers, warm and unsteady, as he whispered-

"Aap theek hai?"
(Are you okay?)

A simple question, but his voice was rough, laced with something deeper-something raw, something desperate, something only she could understand.

Noor's eyes fluttered open, hazy, dazed, her pupils blown wide as she looked at him. And for a moment, the world went still again.

Just them.

Only them.

Noor stared into his eyes-those deep, stormy depths that had always held something unreadable, something untouchable. But now, in this moment, there was no distance, no walls between them. Only this unbearable gravity pulling them together, making her feel as though she belonged nowhere else but here.

She swallowed, her throat dry, her lips parting slightly. The heat of his body, the weight of his gaze, the way his fingers still lingered over her skin-it was overwhelming, but not in a way that frightened her.

She wasn't okay.

Not entirely.

Her body trembled, her breaths uneven, the echoes of his touch still burning into her skin. But was she safe? Was she held, cherished, worshipped in ways she never knew she could be?

Yes.

Because he was here.

Because he had her.

Her trust, her love-it had never belonged to anyone the way it did to him. And as she lay beneath him, feeling the raw intensity in his eyes, she realized something deeper-this was not just desire. This was not just passion.

This was Sidharth.

The man who held her heart, her body, her soul in the palm of his hands.

Her lips trembled, and then-she nodded.

Silent. Certain.

And Sidharth... he understood.

He lowered his head & his lips hovered over hers for a lingering second before he dipped his head, brushing his mouth against hers in a slow, teasing kiss. His touch was feather-light, yet it sent a tremor through Noor's entire body. His warmth, his presence-it wrapped around her like a cocoon, shielding her from the uncertainty that came with the newness of their closeness.

His hand, still tracing lazy patterns along her thigh, moved slightly upward, brushing against the delicate fabric that covered her. The sensation was unexpected, sending a sharp gasp past her lips. Sidharth caught that gasp in his kiss, deepening it with a newfound intensity. His hand remained there, unmoving for a moment, as if waiting-giving her space to adjust, to let her breathe.

Noor's fingers curled into his shoulders, gripping him tighter, her heartbeat an unsteady rhythm against his chest. Her body tensed, but not in fear. It was the unfamiliarity, the overwhelming rush of emotions, the realization that this was Sidharth-her Aarth-who held her so delicately yet with an undeniable possession.

His lips traveled down again, tracing the curve of her jaw, the hollow of her throat, before whispering against her skin, "Relax, Cherry. I won't do anything you don't want."

The reassurance in his voice melted her walls. The weight of his words, the way he held her with such care, eased the tension in her muscles. He wasn't rushing. He wasn't demanding. He was simply there-waiting for her, willing to move at her pace.

Noor swallowed, her throat dry, as she forced herself to meet his gaze again. His eyes burned into hers, searching, asking without words. She hesitated, not out of reluctance, but because she didn't know how to say yes. How could she? The shyness clung to her like a second skin, but the longing-the trust-was stronger.

Siddharth exhaled softly, his thumb grazing her cheek in a slow caress. "Blink once, Noor. Mai aapko samajh jaunga."
(I'll understand you)

A quiet moment stretched between them. The air felt heavy with something unspoken, something that had always been there but had never needed words. Noor's lashes fluttered once-slowly, deliberately.

That was all he needed.

A small, knowing smile curved Sidharth's lips-so soft, yet enough to steal her breath. Enough to make her feel safe & warm in his arms. His forehead pressed against hers for a second before he placed a lingering kiss there, as if grounding her in the moment.

And then, with the same patience, the same devotion, his hand moved again-gentle, deliberate-tracing a path over the thin fabric separating them.

Noor's lips parted in surprise, a sharp inhale lost between them. And before she could register the sensation, Sidharth leaned down and captured her lips once more-slow, consuming, and filled with every unspoken promise.

Noor felt the warmth of his breath against her lips, the press of his body molding into hers, as Sidharth's hand slowly trailed down, igniting a sensation she had never dared to name The heat of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, making her toes curl, her breath stutter.

Her hands clutched the fabric beneath her, as if it could ground her amidst the storm unraveling inside her. His fingers, featherlight yet deliberate, grazed her skin, teasing her senses with an unbearable slowness. Noor gasped softly, her lips parting, her body arching into the touch she was too shy to voice she wanted.

She threw her head back, her throat bared, her breaths shallow and erratic. Sidharth did not miss the way her thighs tensed, how she trembled beneath his touch, how her body betrayed the innocence she struggled to cling to. His lips moved lower, tracing the delicate line of her jaw, his teeth grazing her chin, a light bite that sent a spark of sensation straight to her core.

Her fists tightened, her breath hitching when he continued his descent, pressing open-mouthed kisses down her throat, over the curve of her collarbone, until he reached the valley of her chest. The scrape of his beard against her skin sent a shudder through her, and she bit her lip, her face turning to the side, unable to meet his gaze.

She wanted to deny the ache building inside her, the fire licking at her skin, but Sidharth was relentless. His lips found the softness of her stomach, lingering there, as if savoring every inch of her. Noor let out a shaky breath, her head turning further into the pillow, as if hiding from the intensity of her own desire.

And then, just as suddenly, he pulled away.

The absence of his touch was unbearable. Noor's lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes, her chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. She felt the loss acutely, her body still aching, still yearning.

Her gaze lifted hesitantly, searching for his, and when their eyes met, she felt something inside her unravel. The weight of his stare, the way his chest moved with deep, measured breaths-it made her feel as though she was standing on the edge of something unknown, something dangerous.

Something she was no longer afraid to fall into.

Her eyes fluttered open, dazed, lost. She found him kneeling between her legs, his upper body straight, his gaze locked onto hers with a quiet intensity that stole the breath from her lungs.

She felt exposed-not because of her state, but because of the way he looked at her, as if he could see every thought, every emotion she didn't even know she has.

Sidharth's hand reached for her ankle, his fingers curling around the delicate bone, lifting it gently. The anklet-the same one he had gifted her-gleamed under the dim light. He brought her foot to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss against her skin, right where the silver rested, his eyes never leaving hers.

Noor's breath caught. A rush of heat flooded through her, something far more intimate than touch alone. It was reverence, possession, devotion-all wrapped into one.

Noor's breath trembled, her body caught between shyness and something far more potent-something Sidharth wasn't rushing but savoring. His gaze, dark and unwavering, held hers captive even as her lashes fluttered, struggling under the weight of the moment.

His fingers traced the curve of her ankle, his touch featherlight yet deliberate, sending a shiver through her veins. And then, without breaking eye contact, he lifted her foot to his lips, pressing a kiss over the anklet he had once fastened around her. The metal was cool against his warmth, and the sensation coiled something deep within her.

Her lips parted in a silent breath, her chest rising and falling as she tried to anchor herself against the storm he was stirring inside her. But Sidharth wasn't done. Slowly, reverently, he placed her leg over his shoulder,her payal making the sound, the motion so fluid, so effortless, it sent a fresh wave of heat crawling up her spine.

(Her anklet)

She wanted to look away, to hide from the depth of his gaze, but she couldn't. It was too much, and yet not enough.

He reached for her other leg, his fingertips ghosting over her skin before his lips brushed against her anklet once more. The payal again making the sound. This time, when he placed it over his other shoulder, Noor's pulse roared in her ears. The intimacy of the moment stole her breath-this man, her husband, kneeling before her with a devotion that left her undone.

Then-oh.

A flick of his fingers, so sudden, so unexpected, that her entire body tensed. A whimper caught in her throat as she broke the eye contact, her head tipping back, overwhelmed. He had barely touched her, yet it felt like fire licking at her skin, melting away the last of her restraint.

Her hands fisted into the sheets, her knuckles white with the force of her grip. She was burning, her neck, her cheeks-every inch of her was consumed by an unspoken plea.

Sidharth saw it all, the shyness in her eyes, the quiet surrender in her breath, and he took his time, lowering his lips to her thighs, pressing kisses that were both reverent and claiming.

Noor squeezed her eyes shut, unable to meet his gaze, too lost in the way he worshipped her with his mouth. But she didn't stop him. No hesitation, no denial-only trust. And Sidharth felt it, the silent permission in the way her body trembled yet never pulled away.

Then, for a moment, everything stilled.

The warmth of his lips vanished, and before she could open her eyes, she felt it-his breath, hot, teasing, ghosting over where she was most sensitive. Her core. A gasp left her lips, her body arching in response before she could stop herself.

Sidharth didn't speak. He didn't need to. His hands, his lips, his breath-they all told her exactly what he wanted, what he needed. And Noor-shy, unsure, yet unable to deny the pull between them-could do nothing but surrender to it.

Noor's breath hitched as Sidharth pressed a lingering kiss over the thin fabric, shielding her from him, his lips warm, deliberate. The sensation sent a tremor through her, her thighs tensing, but he held her steady. His touch was unhurried, savoring every reaction, every shiver that ran through her skin.

His tongue flicked out, tracing over the damp fabric, tasting the proof of her need. A low, satisfied hum rumbled in his chest, his pride swelling at how undone she was beneath him. But when he looked up, her lashes were still pressed together, her breath uneven. He wanted her to see him, to feel safe with him, to know she wasn't alone in this storm of sensations.

Gently, he reached for her hands, lacing his fingers through hers, grounding her. His thumb caressed the back of her palm, slow and soothing, as if silently telling her, "I'm here"But still She wasn't resisting. She wasn't pulling away. She was only overwhelmed.

With one hand, he traced the waistband of her panties, his fingers barely there, waiting. Testing. And when she didn't flinch, he hooked his fingers under the fabric and began to slide it down, inch by inch, his movements deliberate.

He wanted her to feel every second, every shift, every breath between them. Noor sucked in air sharply, her stomach clenching, but she let him.

When the fabric was finally gone, discarded somewhere in the room, Sidharth didn't move to claim her immediately. Instead, he shifted, leaning over her, his palm cupping her cheek. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering as he exhaled against her skin, then pulled back just enough to look into her eyes.

"Relax, Cherry," his voice was low, soothing, yet firm. "If it's too much, just give me a sign. I'll stop. I promise."

Her heart clenched, not in hesitation, but in something deeper, something she didn't have words for. Love. Trust. The weight of knowing that even when she surrendered everything to him, he would never take what she couldn't give.

A small, breathy "Hmm" left her lips.

Sidharth's eyes darkened, his control razor-thin, but he nodded. Lowering himself back between her legs, he whispered, "Just one sign, Noor. That's all it takes. But never force yourself. Hmm?"

Another small "Hmm," softer this time, but certain.

His restraint snapped.

His hands gripped her thighs, parting them with a possessiveness that made her breath stutter. And then-warmth. Softness. A kiss, then another, slow and reverent against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Noor's fingers curled into the sheets, her head tilting back as her lips parted soundlessly.

Sidharth groaned against her skin, his voice rough with need. "You're beautiful like this, Cherry."

Then, without another word, he buried himself between her thighs.

His lips found her, first gentle, teasing, his tongue flicking out to taste, to explore, to unravel her. Noor gasped, her hands flying to his hair, her fingers trembling as she tried to hold on to something-anything. But Sidharth wasn't done. He was slow, torturous, his tongue moving in maddening circles, pushing her to the edge, then pulling back, only to do it again.

She whimpered, her back arching, and he hummed against her, sending vibrations coursing through her body. "So sensitive," he murmured, the heat in his voice enough to make her toes curl. "I want to hear you, Noor. Let me hear you."

She tried-tried to hold back, to keep herself from completely falling apart beneath him, but he didn't allow it. His grip on her thighs tightened, his mouth growing more relentless, more demanding.

"Ahh" she moaned. Her payal which was over his shoulder made the sound that were music to his ears.

And when she finally broke, when her body trembled beneath him, when his name slipped past her lips in a breathless, desperate cry-Siddharth knew.

"Oh Aarth.."

Noor's breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, her fingers gripping the sheets like a lifeline, her body burning-too much, too intense, too everything. Sidharth was relentless, his mouth dragging over her skin, his tongue flicking against the most sensitive part of her with a slow, deliberate hunger that made her toes curl.

Her thighs trembled, threatening to clamp shut, but his grip was unyielding-one hand firm over her stomach, the other keeping her legs parted, forcing her to take everything he was giving. There was no escape. No mercy.

And yet-he wasn't forcing her.

He was simply holding her in place, making her feel, making her understand just how much he needed this.

Noor's head tilted back, her lips parting in a broken whimper as another wave of pleasure crashed over her, but then-without meaning to-she looked.

Just for a second.

Siddharth was watching her.

Devotion. Obsession. It was a kind of worship that made her stomach tighten, and her throat went dry.

Dark, blue eyes locked onto her with an intensity that sent a violent shudder through her entire body. His mouth was still moving against her, his tongue still teasing, still devouring-but his gaze... his gaze was unhinged.

Raw.

Obsessed.

Noor's breath hitched, and something inside her clenched-too much, too powerful, the weight of his attention making her feel bare in a way that had nothing to do with nudity. Her fingers curled tighter into the sheets, but she couldn't hold it. She couldn't.

Her lashes fluttered, her head tilting to the side as she moaned.

A sound-low and dark-rumbled from Sidharth's chest, something dangerously close to a growl, something pleased yet almost punishing. His fingers flexed against her thigh, and then, without warning, his tongue pressed harder, flicked faster, sending a jolt of pleasure through her so sharp that her entire body arched.

"Noor," he murmured against her, the vibration of his voice against her skin making her gasp.

Noor let out a sharp, breathless whimper, her chest heaving as Sidharth pulled back just slightly, his lips wet, his breathing just as unsteady as hers. His grip on her wrists was tight but careful, his thumb brushing over her pulse, feeling how wild it was beneath his touch.

"You don't have to be afraid, Cherry."

Noor gasped, the softness in his voice cutting through her, wrapping around her heart like a vice.

"I will never hurt you." His thumb brushed slow, soothing strokes over her skin, grounding her, steadying her even as she trembled beneath him. "Never. You know that, hmm?"

Her lips parted, her fingers clenching in the sheets, but she nodded. A small, shaky nod-barely there, but he saw it.

His throat bobbed. And then-he smiled.

Not smirking. Not teasing.

A real, achingly soft smile.

"Good."

And then he again put his mouth over his aching core.

His mouth descended again, his grip on her never loosening, and this time-this time there was no hesitation. His tongue pressed, flicked, his lips sealed around the most sensitive part of her, and Noor gasped, her back bowing, her body chasing that unbearable, beautiful pressure.

Sidharth groaned against her, his fingers flexing against her skin, and it was all too much-too much and not enough. It was like he was eating her, like sucking her soul out of her. Her head tossed back, a strangled whimper spilling from her lips, but she couldn't stop him.

She didn't want to stop him.

He knew her body already-every flick of his tongue, every press of his lips was deliberate, meant to destroy her, to pull her apart until she was nothing but shattered pieces in his hands.

"That's it," he whispered, his voice thick, raw against her skin. "Let go, Cherry. Just let go."

And she did.

A soft cry broke free from her lips, her entire body tightening, trembling, and then-release.

Sidharth didn't pull away, didn't stop-he held her through it, letting her ride the wave, whispering soft, adoring words against her skin as she fell apart beneath him.

And when it was over-when she was nothing but a boneless, shaking mess beneath him-he pressed a final, reverent kiss to her core.

"Perfect," he murmured, brushing damp strands of hair from her face, his lips ghosting over her forehead.

"You're perfect."
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And then I saw her-coming apart over my mouth.

Her body trembled, soft gasps spilling from her lips, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. She was bare, spread out before me, her skin glowing under the dim light, golden like the first touch of dawn.

Her hair was a wild mess against the pillows, strands curling and sticking to her damp skin. The red of her sindoor had smudged, faint traces smeared along her forehead. Mine. It was the only word that echoed in my mind.

She was beautiful. Not delicate, not pale like untouched porcelain, but rich, warm, like the earth after the rain-alive, burning, real. And mine.

I dragged my gaze over her, drinking her in like a starved man. Flushed cheeks, lips slightly parted, eyes half-lidded, lost in the haze of pleasure I had given her.

My goddess.

My cherry

My hands twitched, the need to touch her, to claim her, to worship her, pressing against my skin like fire. I had always known she was beautiful. But like this-laid bare, trembling, undone because of me-she was breathtaking.

Slowly, I leaned up, pressing my lips against her stomach, feeling the way she shivered under me. My Noor. My fragile, untouchable storm, now lying soft beneath me, trusting me, letting me see her like this.

I cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing over her skin, memorizing every little detail. You ruin me, Cherry.

She was still catching her breath, eyes heavy, dazed. And yet, when I leaned in, she turned her face slightly, pressing the faintest kiss to my palm.

I inhaled sharply.

Something deep inside me snapped.

I had always been possessive. Always wanted her in ways that no man should ever want. But tonight-tonight was different. Tonight, I had her, I tasted her in one of the most intimate ways.

She had had enough.

I could see it in the way her body lay against the sheets, her breath slowing, her lashes fluttering before they stilled. Her lips parted slightly, her cheeks still flushed. I wanted to touch her again, claim her again, but-

She was already mine.

Not in the way flesh claimed flesh, not in the way my body ached to take her again. No-she was mine in a way far deeper. In the way the moon belonged to the night sky, in the way the first rain belonged to the earth. She was mine in trust, in devotion.

I leaned down, pressing my lips to her forehead, letting them linger. Then, the tip of her nose, and finally, her lips. A soft, chaste press-nothing like the way I had kissed her before.

She was... breathtaking.

She had always been beautiful, but like this-undone, vulnerable, utterly mine-she was something beyond words. Something I could only worship.

My body burned, hard and aching-she was poetry in its most divine form. Every line, every curve, every inch of her was something I wanted to memorize, etch into my soul.

And she was the first.

The first woman I had ever touched like this. The first I had ever seen bare. The first I had ever wanted in ways that felt endless, consuming, as if no matter how much I had her, I would always crave more. The first women I have ever loved.

And she was mine.

I let out a slow breath and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, tucking her in. Her eyelids fluttered just slightly, as if she could still sense me, and then... she was gone. Asleep.

And it did something to me.

To see her like this, trusting me so completely, giving herself to me in a way that went beyond body or touch. I felt something in my chest tighten, something deeper than possession, something more than obsession. Love. Raw and overwhelming.

I exhaled, pressing one last kiss to her temple before I pulled away, standing from the bed. My body still ached, and my need still thrummed beneath my skin, but it didn't matter. She came first. She would always come first.

I turned toward the washroom, my bare feet silent against the floor. The moment I stepped inside, I caught my reflection in the mirror. My jaw was tight, my hair disheveled, my chest still marked with the remnants of her touch. And lower-

I looked down at my pants and let out a quiet, humorless chuckle.

My wife had the power to make me lose my mind with a single look, a single breath, and yet she had just as easily left me aching, undone, wanting.

And I loved it.

I shook my head and reached for a towel, draping it over my shoulders. The moment I did, I felt it. A slight sting against my back. My brows furrowed, and I turned, catching sight of the mirror once again.

Red marks.

Faint, but deep. A shiver ran through me as I traced my fingers over them, feeling the raised scratches along my skin.

She had marked me.

Something in my blood ran hotter. I had always been the one who claimed her, who made her mine in every way. But this-this was her marking me. A sign that I belonged to her just as much as she did to me.

I exhaled sharply, a dark sense of pride curling in my chest. My Cherry.

I let the towel drop and turned on the tap, letting the water run cool over my hands before I stepped back into the room. She was still asleep, still lost in whatever dream she was having.

I moved carefully, quietly. With slow, gentle hands, I cleaned her, making sure not to wake her. She barely stirred, only shifting slightly, her lips parting with the softest sigh.

And then, finally, I pulled the blanket over her, letting it settle against her skin.

I stood there for a moment, just watching her.
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The cold water did little to cool the fire beneath my skin.

I let it run down my back, let it drip from my hair, my lashes, my lips-but the heat, the ache, it stayed. A part of me had known it wouldn't help. That no amount of water could extinguish the need, the obsession, the pure devotion I felt toward the woman sleeping in our bed.

My Cherry.

I exhaled sharply, pushing my wet hair back before stepping out of the shower. The room was dimly lit when I returned, the soft glow casting over her bare shoulder, the blanket pulled up just enough to cover her.

Fuck!!

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

How was it that I could have her, that she had already given me everything, and yet I still felt like it wasn't enough? That I would never get enough?

I moved toward the bed, lifting the blanket as I lay down beside her, careful, slow. The mattress dipped under my weight, but she didn't stir. I settled my head against her, pressing my face between the warmth of her neck and the soft swell of her chest, closing my eyes as I breathed her in.

Sandalwood and Jasmine.

I groaned quietly, low in my throat, my arms tightening around her waist. The scent, her scent, was intoxicating. It filled my lungs, my head, seeped into my very skin.

And as I looked up at her, I felt something in my chest break.

The face that held the utmost power in my life now lay peacefully before me. My Cherry, my Noor, my wife. Her lashes rested against her cheeks, her lips slightly parted, her breath soft, even. How was it possible for someone to be so gentle, so utterly delicate, and yet hold my entire existence in her hands?

I could watch her like this forever.

I could stay like this forever.

My hand moved on its own, slipping beneath the blanket, finding the warmth of her stomach before sliding to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. The need to touch her, to feel her against me, was unbearable. I buried my face deeper, pressing my lips against her skin, my breath unsteady, and then-

I wrapped my lips around her nipple.

A shudder ran through me the moment I did, a deep groan vibrating against her skin. Fuck. I was too close. Too close to her, too close to the edge of losing myself in ways I never had before.

She was asleep. Helpless in my arms, unaware of the way she ruined me, the way she reduced me to nothing but pure, raw need. But even in sleep, she gave me everything. The warmth of her body, the taste of her skin, the way her heart beat steadily beneath my lips.

I glanced up at her, at the face that had become my entire world, and my throat tightened.

She was mine.

I sucked gently, feeling the way her skin pebbled beneath my tongue, the softest sigh leaving her lips. And I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. Even when her brows furrowed slightly, even when she shifted.

And then-

Her fingers slid into my hair.

I went still.

She wasn't awake. She hadn't even stirred. But her hand curled around my head, fingers tangling in my hair, holding me there.

Accepting me.

Even in sleep, she accepted me.

A slow, quiet breath left me, and a small, helpless smile pulled at my lips. How was it possible for someone to make me feel so loved? So utterly, completely loved ways I never thought I could be?

Something broke inside me then.

She made me feel loved.

So deeply, so unconditionally loved in a way I had never known before.

And I-I had given her nothing.

A sharp, cruel memory stabbed through me.

Our wedding night.

The way she had stood before me, dressed in red, looking up at me with eyes full of hesitant hope. The way I had ignored her.

The way I had avoided her presence, not because of her, but because of what she meant.

A wife. A partner. Someone who could break me if I let her in.

How I had ignored her. How I had looked at her and felt nothing but the desperate need to protect myself, to push her away before she could ever get close.

I had been cruel.

I had been hateful.

I had looked at my Cherry-the woman who had given me every part of herself-And I had hurt her first.

I looked into her eyes and asked-"What's your name?"

I had known her name.

But I had asked anyway. I had asked because I had wanted to make her feel like nothing. I had wanted to show her just how unwanted she was.

I had thought I was protecting myself.

But how wrong I had been.

How terribly, unforgivably wrong.

Now, I knew the truth.

That it was only her. That it had always been her.

That she was the only thing I had ever truly needed, the only thing I had ever truly wanted, and the only thing I could never live without.

I exhaled shakily, looking up at her again, my heart aching in ways I couldn't explain.

I closed my eyes, pressing my forehead against her chest, my breath unsteady.

I had been a fool. A cruel, stupid fool.

And yet, here she was.

She had forgiven me. She had given me love, warmth, and a home.

And I-

I had given her pain.

A choked breath left me, my throat burning.

"I'm sorry, Cherry," I whispered, my voice barely a breath.

I lifted my hand, brushing my knuckles gently against her cheek.

"I know I'm a bastard for what I did to you. I know I don't deserve you. But..." My voice broke. "I'm selfish when it comes to you. I can't let you go now. Not ever."

And then-

I buried my face in her chest again, pressing myself closer, my lips wrapping around her nipple once more, breathing her in, letting her own me in ways no one else ever could.

Promising myself to be worthy of her love. To be deserving of the love she has for me. To love her, devote myself the way she deserves.

And this time, I didn't stop.

Not even as sleep pulled me under.
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A shrill ringing broke through the silence.

I stirred, barely awake, my face still buried in Noor's chest. The warmth of her, the scent of sandalwood and jasmine, wrapped around me like a cocoon, making it impossible to leave.

But the ringing didn't stop.

My brows furrowed as I exhaled sharply, pulling back just enough to reach for my phone on the nightstand. My hand brushed against the cool surface, fingers gripping it lazily as I lifted it to my face.

4:00 a.m.

And Veer's name flashing on the screen.

A call at this hour?

My mind snapped to full awareness.

I swiped to answer, my voice still heavy with sleep. "Haan, Veer?"

"Bhai-" Veer's voice came fast, urgent. "The farmhouse. The crops nearby-everything's on fire. We need to go. Come fast."

For a second, my mind went blank.

Fire.

The farmhouse.

A place laced with memories of my childhood, lessons on responsibility, of Veer and I playing till dusk, covered in dust and laughter.

And now-fire?

I threw the blanket off in one swift motion, sitting up. The cool air hit my bare skin, but I barely felt it. My mind was already racing.

"Did you call the fire department?" My voice was sharp, steady, the sleep vanishing as if it had never existed.

"They're on their way, but it's spreading fast." Veer sounded breathless. "We need to get there now."

"I'm coming."

I ended the call, tossing my phone aside before moving swiftly. Noor shifted slightly beside me, but she didn't wake.

I got to my feet, grabbing the first shirt I could find, pulling it over my head. I was only in track pants, and there was no time to waste. I tugged on a pair of shoes, fastening them with quick, precise movements.

The urgency burned in my chest, but-

I paused.

Noor.

I turned, my gaze falling on her sleeping form.

Her dark hair spilled over the pillow, her lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks. The soft rise and fall of her chest, the peacefulness on her face-she didn't even know the storm raging inside me.

A strange ache settled in my throat.

I walked back to her, my steps slower now. Kneeling beside the bed, I reached out, gently brushing a few strands of hair away from her face. My fingers lingered, tracing over her soft skin, before I leaned in.

A slow, lingering press of my lips against her temple.

Then another on her cheek.

"I'll come soon, Cherry," I murmured, my voice low, promising.

She didn't wake, but her fingers twitched slightly, as if reaching for me even in sleep.

I forced myself to pull away.

Straightening, I turned and strode out of the room, my mind already shifting gears.

By the time I reached downstairs, everyone had gathered. Their faces were tense, anxious, waiting. Veer stood near the door, phone still in hand, eyes sharp the moment he saw me.

"Let's go."

No more words were needed.

We stepped outside, the cold night air sharp against my skin.

The engines roared to life, and within seconds, we were driving into the dark, toward the fire that threatened to consume not just land-but something far more irreplaceable.
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The air reeked of smoke and damp ashes.

I stood there, unmoving, watching the ruins in front of me-the half-burnt farmhouse, the scorched earth, the blackened remains of what once was. The fields, once golden under the sun, now lay in ruin, nothing but charred remnants of what they used to be.

A man beside me spoke, his voice steady, detached. "Sir, the damage is severe. The crops are completely gone. The farmhouse still stands, but it will need a heavy renovation. Structurally, it's compromised, but it won't collapse. It can be restored."

His words faded into the background.

The only good memory I had of my father was tied to this place.

I inhaled sharply, suppressing the heaviness in my chest. This was more than just land. It was more than just burnt crops and a half-ruined structure.

This place-this farmhouse-held the echoes of my childhood, of a time when my father wasn't just a man of steel, the man I don't want to see but a man who once sat on the porch, drinking chai, teaching me how to hold the reins of a horse, how to read the sky before the storm came.

And now-ashes.

Something stirred in my gut. A feeling. A warning.

This wasn't just a fire.

The thought came unbidden, unwelcome. And yet, I pushed it away, forcing myself to believe it was a coincidence. Just a fire.

Only a fire.

My jaw clenched. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. The old man noticed. He gave me a brief look before excusing himself, stepping away without another word.

I turned away.

The moment I moved toward my car, people from the village-men, women, elders-stood in silence, their hands folded in a respectful pranam. Their eyes, filled with reverence, followed me as I walked past them.

This was the Rajvardhan legacy. A name that commanded respect. A family that had given, protected, built.

And I-Sidharth-I received it all without asking.

I only nodded in return, acknowledging their silent respect, before continuing toward my car.

Reaching it, I leaned against the door, exhaling.

The scent of burnt wood and smoke filled the air, but my mind was elsewhere.

I stared at the remains in front of me, and suddenly-

A memory surfaced.

A little boy, of five, running barefoot across the field, his laughter echoing in the wind. A strong hand ruffling his hair, a deep voice saying, "One day, this house will be yours, Sidharth."

And now, this very land was nothing but ruins.

An unsettling feeling twisted inside me.

I shook my head, shutting my eyes for a moment. My hand slipped into my pocket, my fingers wrapping around my phone. Without thinking, without hesitation, I pulled it out, scrolling to the name I had saved long ago-

Cherry.

The moment my thumb pressed the call button, I glanced at the time. 7:08 PM.

She would be awake. Freshened up. Sitting on the bed, hair still damp from her bath, the scent of sandalwood and jasmine lingering in the air.

I needed to hear her voice.

The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.

Four. Five-

Then, finally-

A soft, breathy, "Hello?"

("Hello?")

My eyes fluttered shut.

A breath left my lips as my fingers tightened around the phone.

"Uth gayi aap."

("You're awake.")

Not a question. A statement. I knew she would be.

A small hum came from the other end. And then-silence.

I didn't mind.

My eyes remained fixed on the disaster before me, but the moment I heard her voice, something settled in my chest.

The unease, the weight, the suffocating tension-it all melted, replaced by something softer, something quieter.

Her presence-even through the phone-was enough.

The silence stretched, unbroken, until she spoke again, her voice hesitant, unsure.

"K-Kaisa hai waha sab?"

("H-How is everything there?")

"Not good."

("Not good.")

Another silence.

She didn't say anything. I knew why.

After last night, she was shy, as expected.

And I understood.

But she was still here. Still on the other side of the call. And that alone was enough. My heart skipped a beat at the thought.

Then, after a long pause, I heard it-

Her voice, filled with concern, thick with something deeper, something raw-

"Aap thik hai?"

("Are you okay?")

Her worry poured through the phone, wrapping around me like warmth in the coldest of nights.

And for the first time since this morning-since this entire hellish day began-

I smiled.

My head tilted back slightly, a deep exhale escaping me as the tension in my muscles loosened.

"Aab thik hu."

("Now, I am.")

A soft silence followed.

I could hear her breathing on the other end, faint but there. And I knew-

She was blushing.

The thought sent a slow warmth spreading through my chest.

I missed her.

I missed watching her get ready, the way she would lower her gaze when she she'll wish me morning, thinking I'm asleep. I missed the way her lips would press together when she tried to hide a smile. I missed the way she felt in my arms.

I missed her.

A sudden voice interrupted.

"Rajvardhan Sahab-"

I turned my head, my expression immediately hardening as I looked at the man calling me.

I let out a slow breath, my grip on the phone tightening before I lifted it back to my ear.

"Rakhata hu, Cherry. Aane me thodi der hogi."

("I'll hang up now, Cherry. It'll take some time for me to come back.")

I was about to end the call when-

A soft voice, hesitant but firm, reached me through the mist of everything.

"Dhyan rakhiye ga."

("Take care.")

My breath caught.

My jaw clenched slightly as I closed my eyes, absorbing her words, letting them settle into my bones.

And then, in a voice quieter, deeper-more certain-

"Rakhunga."

("I will.")

I lowered the phone, cutting the call before slipping it back into my pocket.

A deep breath.

A final glance at the ruins.

Then, I turned, striding toward the waiting men, my mind no longer clouded with unease.

Because I knew-

No matter how much fire burned, how much destruction lay before me-

There was always one place I could return to.

Her.
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Evening settled in, the sun dipping behind the horizon, leaving behind the scent of earth and sweat, the evidence of hours spent in the fields. As soon as I stepped inside, I felt the weight of the day slip off my shoulders, but my mind did not rest.

I leaned back into the sofa, my body present in the room, but my eyes searching-searching for something, someone. The voices of my family blurred into the background as I scanned the hall. She wasn't there. My brows furrowed slightly.

And then, like a soft breeze entering an overheated room, she arrived. Noor.

She came in quietly, a tray in her hands, moving with that delicate grace she always carried. The dim lighting of the evening cast a warm glow over her face, making her features softer, almost ethereal. The tray she held was filled with glasses of water, and I watched, silent, as she moved around the room, offering them to each person with the same quiet attention irritats me. It just made my chest ache in a way why she isn't looking at me?

She neared me, the last one, and for a moment, anticipation curled in my stomach. But she didn't look at me.

I straightened slightly. She wasn't avoiding me... was she?

She stood in front of me, poised, graceful-her lashes lowered as she poured the water. Not once did she lift her eyes to meet mine.

I tilted my head slightly, trying to catch her gaze. Still, nothing.

A frown pulled at my brows. I knew why, but that wasn't enough for me. I wanted to see her eyes. I wanted her to look at me.

The glass was handed to me, her fingers barely brushing mine before she pulled away. The moment was slipping too fast. She was going to turn, to disappear, to leave me waiting again.

So I reached for her wrist.

The room didn't go silent, but I felt the shift. Eyes flickered in our direction. I didn't care. My focus remained only on her, on the way her breath hitched and how she refused to meet my eyes even now.

"Kuch khaya aapne?"
(Did you eat something?)

I kept my voice low, steady, but I saw the way her body tensed. Noor's eyes widened slightly, darting around the room as if searching for an escape. She knew people were watching. But again-I didn't care.

I just needed to know she had eaten. That she had taken care of herself while I was gone.

Her head moved quickly in a nod, still refusing to meet my gaze, and then she tried to pull her wrist back. I let her go.

She didn't walk away. She ran.

And I let her.

A breath of laughter escaped me as I leaned back into the sofa, watching her disappear into the hallway. A small, amused smile played on my lips.

Shy little wife

But she wouldn't be able to avoid my eyes forever.
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I waited. And waited.

For an entire hour, I sat in our room, expecting her to walk in at any moment. But she didn't. Not once.

I had been waiting for her attention since the moment I returned home. Every other person in this house had come before my eyes at least once, except her. Noor.

And now, I was done waiting.

My patience had limits. She was deliberately avoiding me. And the more she avoided me, the more restless I became. She was avoiding me-but she needed to understand that I needed to see her. Needed to have her near me for me to breath.

Clenching my jaw, I stepped out of the room, my eyes scanning the hall as I walked downstairs. My first destination was the kitchen. She had to be there. But the second I stepped in, I found it empty. Not a single soul inside. My irritation deepened.

Where was she?

I exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of my neck before stepping out. That's when my gaze landed on a servant passing by.

"Noor ji kidhar hai?" I asked, my voice firm.

(Where is Noor ji?)

The servant immediately replied, "Ji wo upar hain, Tulsi ke paas diye jala rahi hain."

(She's upstairs, lighting the lamps near the Tulsi plant.)

I didn't say anything. My face remained unreadable, but my irritation only grew. So she had the time to do the puja, to stand there and light the lamps, but not enough time to look at me even once?

Without another thought, I took the stairs in large, hurried strides.

When I reached the terrace, my steps slowed.

Noor stood there, her back facing me. The golden glow of the evening light bathed her delicate figure, her dupatta draped over her head. Her hands were joined together in prayer, eyes closed. The small flickering flames of the diyas cast soft shadows on her face, making her look almost ethereal.

For a second, just a second, all my irritation disappeared.

She was here. In front of me. And I felt... relief, peace.

I watched her in silence, taking in the way her lips moved softly, whispering prayers. She looked so peaceful, so untouched by the chaos inside me.

But the moment didn't last long.

As soon as she finished, Noor turned around I walked toward her-only to collide straight to her.

Her small gasp filled the air as she stumbled back, her hands instinctively pressing against my chest. I didn't even think before wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her in. Her warm body flushed against mine, and I felt her tremble slightly in my hold.

For a moment, we both froze.

She looked up at me, wide-eyed.

I looked down at her, unmoving.

The world around us seemed to pause.

And then, as if realizing the closeness, her eyes went even wider, and she quickly looked away.

"Cherry?" I murmured, my voice low.

She didn't respond. Just gave a small "hmm" without meeting my eyes.

My frown deepened.

"Noor," I called her name this time, tightening my hold around her waist.

Her lashes fluttered, and for a second, she dared to look at me-but just as quickly, she turned away again.

That only annoyed me more.

I opened my mouth to say something when suddenly, she started wiggling in my hold, trying to escape.

"C-Chhodiye na... kaam hai."
(L-Leave me... I have work.)

I let out a sharp breath and loosened my grip.

The second I did, she stepped back, adjusting her dupatta, still refusing to look at me.

I hated it.

This... this avoidance. The way she wouldn't meet my gaze, the way she acted as if I wasn't there. As if I didn't matter.

It made my stomach twist in frustration. Made my hands clench at my sides. I wanted her attention. Needed it.

She turned to leave, taking long strides toward the stairs. My chest tightened.

She was leaving again.

And before I could even think, I acted.

With a sudden thud, I let myself fall to the ground.

Noor stopped.

My hand landed against the floor, a small sting forming where my skin burned in the farm. It wasn't a big wound. Just a faint red mark. But I needed it to hurt more now.

I held my hand out, faking a wince.

"Ahh..." I let out a small groan, making sure it sounded just right.

I needed her to turn back.

And she did.

Her head snapped toward me, confusion flashing in her eyes. At first, she just stood there, staring. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

"Pass aaiye na, Cherry..."
(Come closer, Cherry...)

I said, making my voice weaker, as if I was in unbearable pain. "Dekhiye na... kitni lagi hai.
(Look... see how much it hurts.)

Her eyes flickered to my hand.

And just as I expected-she ran to me.

She knelt beside me, quickly grabbing my wrist, inspecting the so-called 'wound' with worry in her eyes.

Oh Cherry.

I didn't waste the opportunity.

Without warning, I slipped my arm around her waist and pulled her into me again, making her gasp in surprise.

She landed against my chest, breath hitching as I whispered against her ear, "Bohot dard ho raha hai, Cherry..." (It hurts so much, Cherry...)

She stiffened.

I could feel the way her fingers slightly curled, the way she swallowed hard.

And for the first time that evening... she looked at me.

Not away. Not down.

At me.

And that was all I wanted.

______________________________________
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