Now, the next chapter after this target is completed.

Today's target -
‼️NEXT UPDATE ON Thursday ‼️
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Siddharth's chest rose and fell like waves crashing to shore, slow but forceful. His breath was hot against her collarbone. He stayed there, still inside her, unwilling to move, as if letting go would shatter whatever this moment was-raw, real, and unspeakably intimate. His forehead rested against the side of her face, beard brushing her soft skin, his body heavy on hers yet comforting, not crushing.

The room was dim. Still. The soft whirr of the air conditioning barely cut through the heat hanging between them. Sweat gathered along his spine, slipping down slowly. His back gleamed under the faint light, and even in stillness, he felt fire underneath his skin.

Minutes passed.

Just minutes, but they felt like something eternal.

His breathing calmed a little, but the heaviness didn't leave his chest. He slowly pulled his upper body back, just slightly, not to leave her warmth, but to see her-to see his cherry who just broke and bloomed for him.

Sidharth's beard scratched lightly against her flushed skin as he moved. His nose grazed her cheek. She didn't open her eyes. Her lashes trembled, thick and wet from something he didn't yet understand. But her cheeks... they were a soft flame, crimson and warm. Her lips slightly parted, moist, delicate. His hand that had been on her breast slowly traveled up, fingers tracing the curve of her collarbone until he gently cupped her face.

Noor.

She looked like a dream tangled in reality. A soft, innocent dream with silent strength underneath. She was glowing-no, she was burning quietly under him. Her body looked tired, but her expression held something childlike, pure. And that flushed face, that softness-Siddharth couldn't stop staring.

His voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed in the silent room.

"Noor..."

It was deep. Raw. Not loud, not harsh-but so full, it filled the space around them. His eyes were open. Hers weren't. Yet somehow, he knew she heard him.

She didn't speak. But her lips moved a little, and a tiny sound came out-almost like a whimper, or maybe something more shy. It was enough. Enough to tell him she was still there. With him.

"Thik hai aap?"
(Are you okay)

His voice cracked with breathlessness. The weight of it, the after of everything, made those three words feel heavier than they should. Still resting on top of her, still inside her, he asked like he needed the answer to live.

Noor's throat moved. She swallowed.

And Siddharth saw it-her Adam's apple bobbing, delicate. It moved once, and then she hummed softly in reply. That small sound, that faint 'hm', made something sharp twist in his chest. Her cheeks flamed redder.

His thumb moved across her cheekbone. Slow. Careful. His fingers still curled around her jaw, holding her like she was glass, like he was afraid she'd disappear if he let go. She didn't move. Her eyes still closed, but her breathing-her breathing was calm now. Softer. Like she was okay.

And Siddharth just stayed there.

Watching her.

Like he'd never seen anything so heartbreakingly beautiful in his life.

Siddharth didn't move at first.

He stayed there, breathing hard, his body covering hers. His heart pounded against her chest, matching the erratic rhythm of her own. His breath, warm and uneven, fanned against the damp skin of her neck. His forehead pressed to hers, like he was trying to feel her-feel every inch, every heartbeat, every silent emotion between them.

Noor's body was still tingling, still trembling slightly under him, overwhelmed but warm.

He just looked at her.

She was his.

His peace. His Cherry.

And right now, she looked so innocent. So pure. So delicate.

His eyes softened. His fingers moved again, stroking her cheek gently. He saw her gull slowly as his finger moved.

He knew she needed water. She had been so lost in him that she hadn't even asked.

Carefully, he pulled back a little more, still inside her warmth, but now he could see her properly. The way her hair was sticking to her temples, the way her breath was still uneven, the way her fingers had curled slightly into the sheets.

She was his Noor. His quiet, innocent, soft Noor.

He finally pulled himself out of her-gently, carefully. Noor whimpered slightly at the loss, a small frown forming between her brows.

Siddharth saw it. He felt it.

His chest ached again.

He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead, then another, slower this time. His lips stayed there for a moment, like he was sealing something inside her. Something only for them.

Then, reluctantly, he got up.

Noor didn't move. Didn't look at him. She stayed where she was, still breathing hard, still wrapped in the feeling of him.

Siddharth stood by the bed now.

He was completely naked. His skin was damp, flushed, his chest rising and falling heavily. His hair was messy, damp tendrils falling over his forehead. A faint scratch ran across his neck. His jaw clenched slightly, the veins on his arms still visible from the way he had held himself back.

And yet, he looked calm. Controlled. Like a storm that had just passed, but was still rumbling softly beneath the surface.

He turned, walking toward the table nearby, picking up the glass jug and pouring water. The sound of the liquid filling the glass was the only thing breaking the silence.

He turned back to her.

She still hadn't looked at him. She was still lying there, cheeks flushed, body still tingling from everything they had shared.

Sidharth walked back. He sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers reaching out-brushing the strands of hair stuck to her forehead, tucking them behind her ear. Gentle. Soft. Possessive.

She blinked slowly, eyes opening.

And when she saw him-saw his face, his body, the rawness of him-her breath caught.

His face was still flushed, his skin glistening. His lips were slightly swollen, his hair wild. His eyes-deep, dark, unblinking-were fixed on her.

He didn't speak at first. He just touched her forehead again softly, fingers pushing the last of her hair back, his eyes scanning her as if making sure she was still real.

Then, his voice came. Low. Soft, but commanding.

"Cherry, paani pi lijiye."
(Cherry, drink some water.)

His voice was too deep. Too soft. Too full of something she couldn't name.

Noor's stomach twisted.

She swallowed. Siddharth saw it-the way her throat moved. The way her fingers twitched slightly against the blanket.

She wasn't nervous. She wasn't uncomfortable.

She was feeling too much.

She took the glass from his hands, her fingers brushing against his. She took two sips. Then three. Siddharth watched every movement.

And then-he took the glass back.

Pressed a slow kiss to her forehead.

Noor turned her head, her eyes falling on him again.

And then she saw-him drinking.

She stared as his Adam's apple moved. As the sweat on his skin trailed downward, disappearing beneath his collarbone. As his hand flexed slightly around the glass.

Her heart pounded.

She wanted to reach out. Wanted to touch. Wanted-

But she looked away. Her cheeks turned darker.

And Siddharth saw.

And he smiled. Because she was his.

Siddharth's breath was uneven as he looked into her eyes-those soft, doe-like eyes that held so much love, so much trust... only for him. He couldn't take it anymore. The way she looked at him, like he was her entire world. He was.

His fingers lifted, gently cupping her cheeks, his thumbs brushing over the warm skin under her eyes. "Dekhiye meri taraf," he whispered, voice husky, almost pleading.
(Look at me)

Noor's lashes fluttered as she looked up at him. Her heart was pounding so loud, she was sure he could hear it.

Siddharth leaned closer. His forehead brushed against hers. His nose touched her skin lightly, teasing. Noor didn't move, didn't blink-just stayed still under his touch, her body stiff but trembling.

Then came his voice. Low. Raw. Like a secret meant only for her.

"Aapka hi hoon," he said, lips barely an inch away from hers.

And before she could take a breath, he pressed a small, lingering kiss on her lips. It was soft, not rushed. As if he wanted to remember her taste forever.

He pulled back slightly, lips still close, and added, "Jeetna aur jaise... aapki marzi. Aap dekh sakti hain."

Noor's stomach twisted at his words, heat rising through her body. Her eyes fell from his lips to his throat, where his Adam's apple bobbed with a hard swallow. Her fingers moved on their own, raised slowly... and touched it. That part of him that moved when he felt something deep.

His jaw clenched. He inhaled sharply.

Her fingertips traced lightly over his skin. He licked his lips, his gaze fixed on her face, on her parted lips.

She bit her own lip-softly, nervously-and her mouth stayed open, breath shaky.

Siddharth's lips parted too. He didn't move. He just... watched her. Letting her do what she wanted. Letting her lead.

And then she looked up at him.

Their eyes met-and he saw it.

The need in her eyes. The softness. The ache. The innocence mixed with desire. She wasn't saying anything, but she didn't have to.

That look in her eyes... it pulled him in.

He gulped hard, trying to control himself, but he felt it again-his body reacting. His chest rising and falling heavier than before

He was hard. Again.

He leaned closer, forehead almost touching hers again.

"Cherry..." his voice broke, hoarse, low, desperate, "can I-I..."

He stopped. Swallowed again. His lips trembled slightly.

"I need you more..." he whispered, breath brushing over her lips and then gulp.

"My body is burning, Cherry... can you make me yours... once more tonight?"

His voice was coated in hunger and helplessness. His eyes-dark, filled with fire and yearning.

Noor clenched her thighs without even realizing it. The sound of her payal echoed quietly in the silence, making Siddharth look down.

Her legs. Her bare thighs partly covered by the sheet. The way her body moved.

His jaw clenched again.

He leaned in.

His lips brushed her ear first.

Then he gently bit her earlobe. Her breath hitched, her eyes shut tight.

He started sucking on it softly, his hand sliding down her waist, gripping her, like he was holding onto the only thing keeping him alive.

"Hmm?" he whispered into her ear, voice deep, trembling, hot.

Noor's mouth opened. Her body was fire. Her fingers curled into the bedsheet, and without even meaning to-she said it.

"Hmm..." a soft, broken sound left her lips.

And hearing her-he stilled for a second, then leaned back just a little.

He looked at her, a slow, small smile forming on his lips-dark, knowing, loving.

"Good," he whispered, before crashing his lips onto hers.

Not soft this time. Not shy.

But hungry. Claiming. Slow, yet burning.

Siddharth didn't rush. Even though his body was burning, even though his blood felt like fire under his skin, he stayed still-because this was her. His Noor.

His woman.

He looked at her. Really looked. Her eyes were shut, lips parted, her chest rising and falling with every deep breath. Her fingers were gripping the sheet like she was holding back the storm inside her.

But she wasn't scared.

She trusted him.

That made his chest ache. That kind of trust-it was rare. And she gave it all to him.

He leaned in, close to her face again, so close that his breath brushed her cheek.

"I'll never hurt you," he whispered softly.

"Even if I burn, even if I lose myself in you-I'll never break you, Noor."

His voice was deep but gentle. Like a vow. Like a man who was powerful, but only ever soft for her.

His fingers moved from her waist, sliding up her side, his palm warm on her skin. Then slowly, he cupped her cheek again-like he was holding something fragile.

"You can stop me anytime." His eyes were on her lips.

"Hmm?"

Noor's lashes lifted slowly. Her eyes met his.

And in that moment, something shifted.

There was no fear.

Her lips parted a little more, breath shaky. And the look in her eyes-

That look.

It was everything.

She wanted him.

But it wasn't lust.

It was deeper. Raw. A kind of ache only he could ease.

He moved closer, his nose brushing against hers, his lips hovering just above hers-but still not touching.

He was breathing her in, like she was air.

His other hand moved to her back, strong but careful, like he was holding a part of his own soul.

Noor didn't speak. She didn't need to.

Her eyes answered. Her fingers lifted slowly, resting on his chest. His heartbeat-fast and hard-thundered under her touch.

She looked at him like he was everything she ever wanted.

And that was it.

That one look.

He lost it.

His breath hitched.

He leaned in, slowly, slowly, eyes locked on hers till the very last second-till his lips finally touched hers.

Not rushed. Not wild.

It was a kiss that felt like a promise. A kiss that said,

"You're mine, and I'll spend forever proving it."

His lips moved on hers softly at first-barely touching, like tasting. Like letting her feel how much he craved her.

But even in that soft kiss, there was fire. Heat. Need that ran too deep to be hidden.

He didn't push.

But he didn't hold back either.

Because this kiss-it was him surrendering.

To her.

To them.

His lips brushed hers-soft at first, like a whisper of a promise.

Noor's breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut as he lingered there, just for a second more, as if trying to memorize her lips with his. And then he pulled back-but not far.

Her eyes met his again, wide and shy, but lit with something new. Her lips parted slightly, dazed, hungry, unsure... but not scared.

Siddharth's fingers moved slowly-almost reverently-along her cheekbones, then down to the line of her jaw, tilting her face up as he studied her. There was fire in his gaze now, burning low and deep, but still steady. Still in control. But his control was a thread pulling thin.

Without breaking eye contact, he leaned closer again. One hand moved behind her back and the other slipped down her arm, fingers tracing her skin like she was something fragile and sacred... but his. Only his.

His lips had just pressed against hers-a still moment, like the silence before a storm. But the way Noor's chest rose, how her lips parted ever so slightly, like she needed more-he felt it. He always did.

Siddharth didn't pull away this time. He leaned in again, lips brushing over hers slowly, teasingly. And then-he kissed her. Deep. Raw. The kind of kiss that makes your toes curl, that empties your chest and fills it at the same time.

He tilted her head gently, fingers slipping behind her neck, gripping her just enough to guide her, hold her. His thumb brushed the corner of her lips, then slid down to her chin, pulling her in as he took full control of the kiss. His other hand moved around her waist, slowly, as he shifted their bodies.

Still kissing, he lowered her back onto the bed. His body moved with hers like they'd done this dance before. They had-but tonight, it felt different. Hungrier. Needier. The way he kissed her told her he was starving-and she was the only thing that could feed that fire.

Her body relaxed under him, but her hands gripped his arms, her legs brushed against his-bare skin on bare skin. Her knees rubbed against his sides, breath hitched as she felt how close, how hard, how there he was.

Siddharth's hand moved-up, then down-skimming the length of her thigh, up the curve of her side, fingers dragging slow across her ribs. She moaned softly into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound like a man who lived for it.

Then he pulled back-just a little. Not far. His breath was rough, lips swollen, his eyes locked on her face like she was the only thing that mattered in this world. His hand slid to her cheek, thumb wiping away the light sheen of sweat forming there.

But his eyes didn't leave hers.

He lowered his face again, lips brushing hers once more-then trailing down. Past her jaw. Down her throat. He kissed her collarbone, slow and wet, and then lower. His mouth moved to the top of her chest, and then he saw it-the faint mark he'd left on her earlier that night. A reddish bloom against her skin.

He stared at it for a second, like he couldn't believe it was real. His chest rose harder, deeper.

And then... he kissed it. Gently. A soft press of lips. Then another. And another. Like he was apologizing and claiming her all at once. Like he wanted to worship every spot he'd ever touched.

Noor's back arched slightly, body tightening under him as her chest moved with each kiss. Her hands grabbed the bedsheet beneath, and when he moved to the other mark-pressing soft, open-mouth kisses on the curve of her breast-she gasped.

Her knee dug into his side, sharp and desperate, and he didn't flinch. If anything, he growled low under his breath and kissed her harder.

His hand, the one trailing her side, slowly moved up. Over her ribs, to the swell of her breast. He cupped it gently, thumb brushing across her skin, teasing her nipple with slow circles that made her breath tremble.

She moaned, head falling back against the pillow, mouth open, eyes fluttering closed. And Siddharth-he watched her. His lips still on her chest, his hand moving in lazy, skilled strokes, touching her like she was something he'd studied for years.

He kissed every mark he gave her like a man proud of his madness. Her skin flushed under him, her chest rising with every breath, every moan that slipped from her lips.

Siddharth didn't speak. He didn't need to. His actions said it all.

She was his. And he- He was hers too-fully, obsessively, and without shame.

Siddharth's lips moved slow over her collarbone, every kiss soft but deep, like he wanted to carve himself into her skin. Noor's breath was shaky now, chest rising with each touch. He could feel her body responding, feel the way her hands gripped the sheets, the way her thighs brushed against his sides again and again-restless.

He didn't stop.

He moved lower. Just a little.

His nose brushed her skin first-then his mouth. He kissed just under her collarbone, then slowly down the center of her chest. His hand stayed on her breast, warm and steady, his thumb still teasing her gently. But now... he needed more.

He shifted himself, letting his lips reach the soft curve of one breast. He looked at it for a moment-like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Like he couldn't believe it was his to touch, to taste.

Noor's nipples were already hard-her body was ahead of her mind, wanting more before she could ask for it.

Siddharth leaned in.

He stuck out his tongue and gave her nipple a slow, wet lick. From the bottom, all the way up. Her back arched, a soft cry leaving her mouth, and he smiled against her skin. He did it again, slower this time. Then he moved to the other-licked that one too, just the same. Her hands flew to his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin.

His mouth wrapped around one nipple. Warm. Wet. He sucked, slow and deep, letting it sit between his lips. His tongue flicked over it while his other hand gripped her other breast, fingers squeezing gently.

Noor gasped again-her body pushed against his. Her legs moved restlessly under him, and her hips lifted just a little, looking for more contact.

But Siddharth wasn't in a rush.

He gave all his focus to her breasts. He switched sides, licking, kissing, sucking. His fingers kneaded the soft flesh like he was trying to memorize the shape. Every time she moaned, every time her body twitched, he knew she was falling deeper.

She tasted like salt and skin-hot and soft. He groaned softly, lost in her. His mouth stayed busy, lips pulling, tongue circling. Sometimes soft, sometimes with pressure. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Noor's head turned to the side, lips parted, eyes shut. Her chest rose fast, her hands now holding the back of his head, keeping him close-like she didn't want him to stop. Her thighs clamped lightly around his waist, her heel dragging up his calf.

He took her nipple deeper into his mouth and sucked hard, just once-slow and deep-and she moaned, sharp and breathy, back lifting from the bed again.

Siddharth's fingers tightened slightly on her other breast, then softened, then circled again.

All slow.

All focused.

Like she was the only thing in his world right now.

She was.

He pulled back just a little, breathing heavy, his mouth still close to her skin. Her nipple was red, wet from his mouth, and he pressed a kiss right over it-soft and tender, like a silent thank you.

Then he looked up.

Her face was flushed, her lips trembling, her eyes half-lidded and full of something raw. And still, her body begged for more.

So did his.

Siddharth's mouth was still on her breast, tongue soft but insistent. He wasn't in a rush. No, he was drinking her in like a man starved. Every suck, every lick, every press of his mouth was slow, deep, and full of something burning.

His hand moved lower. Not fast.

He trailed it down her side, fingers brushing lightly over the curve of her waist, tracing the shape of her body like he was learning it all over again. He stopped just at her hipbone, letting his hand rest there for a breath... like he was waiting for her body to call him further.

Then, gently, he moved lower.

His fingers slipped between her thighs-warm, steady, and patient. Noor's breath hitched. Her body tensed for a second, then softened again under his touch.

He didn't push her legs open.

He just touched the inside of her thigh, tracing soft lines there with his fingertips. She parted her legs herself, shyly, slowly. Just a little.

That was enough for him.

He pressed his hand between her legs, cupping her softness like it was something precious. His breath came harder now. His eyes-dark and wild-were locked on her face, watching every flicker of her expression.

He rubbed her wet clit with the gentlest pressure. A slow circle. Then another.

Her mouth parted, eyes still closed, and a soft sound escaped her throat.

"Aahh... Aarth..."

It was so soft, so full of feeling, that his entire body clenched.

He leaned up, mouth brushing her lips without kissing her yet. His breath was shaky now.

"I'm here, Cheery," he whispered, voice rough, low. "I'm here... hmm..."

But he didn't stop touching her.

His fingers were still moving-teasing her clit, brushing over it with maddening slowness, as if he wanted to feel every pulse, every twitch.

Her body trembled.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he slid two fingers inside her. Slowly. Deeply.

Her hips jerked. A small sound escaped her throat-a gasp full of heat and surprise.

A single tear rolled down from the corner of her eye.

He didn't miss it.

He leaned in and kissed it away. Not rushed. He stayed there, lips pressed against her cheek, breathing her in.

She looked so beautiful like this-flushed, quiet, trembling beneath him, her chest rising fast, her lips open like she was trying to find the right breath.

He didn't move his fingers yet.

He just held them there, deep inside her, giving her time.

His thumb stayed on her clit, resting, not moving.

He watched her face.

He could feel her around his fingers, warm and tight and wet, her body trying to adjust.

Only when she gave a soft nod-barely there-did he begin to move.

He curled his fingers inside her, brushing her soft spot.

She gasped again, louder now. Her thighs tightened around his hand.

Siddharth kissed her jaw, then her collarbone, then lower again.

He moved his fingers in and out-slow, wet, deep.

Her hands had gripped the sheet beneath her, twisting the fabric. One of her legs was bent, heel pressed into the bed, and her back arched slightly with every press of his fingers.

She moaned softly again, burying her face in his neck, her body melting.

He didn't speak.

He just watched her. Every tiny change in her breathing, every flutter of her lashes, every clench of her thighs.

She was his entire world in that moment.

He could feel her getting close-her body twitching, her stomach tightening again and again. His fingers moved with more pressure now, just a little faster, still not rough. Just deeper. Fuller.

Then, slowly, he pulled his fingers out of her.

Her eyes opened.

Slowly.

They were heavy with something soft and thick-desire, trust.

Her cheeks were flushed dark pink. Her lips were red and parted. Her whole body was trembling, but not in fear. In sensation.

Her eyes met his.

He brought his fingers up, still wet with her, and licked them-slowly. One finger first, then the other. His tongue dragged along the length of them like he was savoring the taste.

Like she was the most addictive thing he'd ever known.

Her breath caught again.

And her lashes dropped for a second, too shy to hold his gaze, but too shaken to look away for long.

Siddharth's chest was rising and falling, heavy and slow, like he was trying to hold back a storm inside him. His skin was glistening now-warm sweat sliding down the sharp line of his jaw. His hair was damp, falling over his forehead. A soft lock stuck to his temple, but he didn't care.

His hands moved down.

One wrapped around his thick, hardened length. His fingers closed around it tight, veins bulging under his grip. The head of it was flushed, red and full, leaking already. He let out a low breath, his jaw clenching, muscles in his arms twitching. His abs tightened as he gave himself one slow pump.

Then another.

His eyes didn't move away from her.

Noor was lying there-her legs open for him, her chest rising in soft, nervous breaths. Her skin glowed in the low light, and her lips were still swollen from his last kiss. Her nipples were still hard, still glistening from his tongue. His eyes devoured her. His mind? Gone. Lost in her. Only her.

He moved closer.

With one hand, he gently pushed her thighs further apart-soft, respectful. His touch wasn't rough, but the power in him showed through even in that gentleness. The way his fingers gripped her skin... firm, careful... because she was something delicate, something too precious to break.

And then-

He leaned down and slowly rubbed the tip of himself against her clit.

Not once.

But again.

And again.

Slow.

Back and forth.

Letting her feel the heat. The thickness. The weight of him. Her wetness was all over him now, slick and warm, coating his length. He gritted his teeth, groaning deep in his throat. It came from somewhere low-raw, helpless. His body trembled from how much he wanted her.

And then he looked up at her face.

Her eyes were shut tight, brows drawn together. A soft moan left her lips, just a small "mmm..." as her hips twitched under his touch.

That sound-God-it wrecked him.

He leaned in and caught her lips again. But this time-

Hard.

He kissed her like she was the only thing that could calm him down.

His mouth moved over hers rough, needy, claiming. He bit her lower lip, sucked it between his teeth, and pulled gently until she whimpered into his mouth. His hands were on her waist now, holding her steady under him.

He pulled back slowly, his forehead resting on hers. His breath was hot, rushing through his nose.

"Noor..." he whispered, voice tight, shaking.

A drop of sweat rolled down his temple, sliding past his cheekbone, falling onto her chest. His body was tight, tense, but his eyes were soft-burning, but soft. Like he was losing himself and still trying to remember her first.

He waited.

And then she slowly opened her eyes.

Her lashes lifted, slow, fluttery.

Shy.

Her eyes were big, round, almost glassy. Her cheeks had turned a dark shade of red, lips parted like she couldn't take a full breath.

He didn't say anything else.

Just looked at her.

And then-without breaking eye contact-he pushed himself inside.

Slow.

Inch by inch.

Her body tensed under him. Her hands clenched the sheet. Her back arched just slightly, a tiny sound catching in her throat. Her lips parted more, and her eyes widened-he was huge and thick, she cam feel every vein of his stretching her.

Siddharth felt every tight pull of her around him.

His hands gripped her hips, his fingers pressing deep into her skin. His muscles were tight, his veins standing out along his neck, his back, his arms. His whole body was trembling with the effort to go slow.

Then-

He saw it.

A single tear slipped from her eye.

He bent down, kissed it away. Kissed the corner of her eye, then her cheek, her jaw. Slow, worshipful. His lips moved like they were trying to tell her what his mouth couldn't.

Then he stilled.

Letting her feel all of him.

All at once.

Letting her adjust, while his lips hovered over hers. Her skin was warm, glowing, her body soft under his, but tight around him. He didn't move yet.

Just breathed her in.

Just felt.

His fingers stroked her sides gently, almost as if grounding himself.

Then he pulled out just a little-and pushed back in.

Slow.

Measured.

Deep.

His jaw clenched again. His breath hitched.

And finally-he started to move. Still slow. Still deep. Letting her body learn his rhythm. Letting his own body drown in her.

The room was quiet, except for the soft sound of their breaths mixing-his rough and heavy, hers shaky and light.

Siddharth moved again, deeper this time. His muscles tightened, the curve of his back rippling under the sweat coating him. His arms were firm on either side of her, keeping her steady, but his lips-his lips never left her skin for long. He kissed her again, right between her brows, then lower, to her cheek, and then her lips.

Noor let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

It came out as a tiny gasp, her fingers curling into the sheet beneath her. Her eyes shut again, but not from fear-never fear. From the feeling. From the way he was stretching her. Filling her. Slowly. Deeply. Respectfully. Yet still, so powerfully.

Her legs trembled around him.

And her heart-her heart felt like it was about to tear through her chest. LThe weight of him. The weight of what he was giving her. It wasn't just his body. It was his love. His obsession. His everything.

Her hands slowly reached up, unsure, shaky-and then softly pressed against his chest. His heart was thundering under her palm.

"Sidharth..." she breathed. It was barely a whisper, almost like she didn't know she'd said it.

He looked down at her.

Her hair was spread over the pillow, her lips parted, vermillion spread on her forehead,her face glowing red from the heat, the closeness, the way he filled her up. Her eyes were glistening again, but they stayed on him this time.

He slowed again, pulling out almost completely, leaving her empty-

Only to push back in, deeper than before.

Noor's body arched with him. A choked moan escaped her lips, one hand flying up to clutch at his shoulder.

He kissed her again-hard, but not rough. He kissed her like he was drowning. Like her mouth was the only air left.

"You feel me, hmm" he whispered between breaths, his forehead resting against hers. "Every inch. Every part of me."

She nodded.

Barely.

Eyes fluttering.

Her lips were trembling under his. Her fingers had slid from his chest to his back now, nails pressing gently into his skin as her legs wrapped a little tighter around his waist, holding him in place-welcoming him in, without saying a word.

And he moved.

Again.

Slow.

His pelvis pressing deep into hers, making her whimper under him.

A fresh wave of heat pulsed through her body. Her toes curled, her thighs tensed, her back arched again, and her head tilted back slightly as her mouth parted in a soft moan.

"Aarth..." she whispered again.

He growled softly against her skin. The sound was thick. Low. Hot.

Like he was losing it.

But still holding back.

Still worshipping her, even as his body begged for more.

He leaned down again, kissed her neck this time, tasting her sweat, her scent, her skin.

She was his.

And he was slowly claiming every inch.

He tried to hold it in.

Tried to stay gentle, soft, respectful.

But something in him was breaking. Her soft moans. Her trembling thighs. Her breathless voice calling his name like a prayer she never meant to say out loud.

It was pulling him apart.

His hips started moving faster. Not rough. But deep. Desperate. Controlled but breaking. His jaw clenched, muscles shaking, his arm slipping beneath her lower back to lift her slightly as he drove in again.

"Noor..." he groaned-raw, breathless. Her name left his throat like a cry.

Noor's fingers clutched the sheet, her body reacting with his. Her back arched, her lips parted in a soft gasp, and her head tilted slightly to the side.

He kissed her again. Everywhere.

Her cheek. Her neck. Her lips. Each kiss messier. Hotter. Filled with something he couldn't say, but she could feel.

She felt it all.

The way his body shook.

The way his breath hitched every time he sank in.

The way his moan tangled with hers, as if he was falling apart with her.

And then-

Just when she was close, right at the edge-

He stopped.

Noor's chest was rising fast. Her breath stuck in her throat. Her body trembling, lips parted, the heat between her thighs still pulsing from his last thrust.

Her teary eyes opened slowly. Confused. Needy.

He leaned down, brushed his lips over her damp skin, and kissed the tip of her nose.

Siddharth's voice was rough as it brushed her ear. "Trust me, Cherry," he whispered, his breath warm on her cheek.

Noor's lashes fluttered, heavy with the wetness that still lingered in her eyes. She looked at him, dazed, breathless, not understanding why he stopped when her body was ready to break apart. But she didn't speak. She only blinked slowly, letting a shaky breath leave her lips.

He kissed her nose-soft, reverent-before slipping out of her completely.

A small sound left her, a whimper lost in the silence between them, but before she could reach for him, Siddharth moved.

Gently, he laid beside her. His body warm against the coolness of the sheets. He slid an arm around her waist and carefully turned her on her side, her back pressing against his chest. Noor's breath caught again as she felt his skin on hers, the rise and fall of his chest perfectly syncing with hers. His scent was all around her now-warm, musky, intoxicating. She was wrapped in it.

He pushed her hair aside, burying his face into the curve of her shoulder. His lips touched her there, slow, grazing. His nose ran along her skin like he was breathing her in, tasting every inch.

She shivered.

he breathed-not a word spoken loud, but it fell heavy in the air.

Noor didn't speak. Her eyes fluttered shut again, overwhelmed. She could feel her heart beating fast, fast, like it didn't know what else to do.

Then she felt him again-his hand finding her thigh, gently lifting it just enough to slide between. His fingers grazed over her soft skin before he lined himself up. His hardened length pressed against her from behind, and he groaned quietly, deep from his chest.

He pushed inside slowly-painfully slow-every inch filled with the weight of his control, his obsession, his hunger. Noor's lips parted as she felt him again, the stretch, the heat, the way he filled her up so completely. Her back arched slightly, instinctively, and Siddharth held her tighter, one arm locking around her waist.

He didn't speak.

He only moved-slow, deep strokes that made her toes curl.

Noor gripped the sheets. Her body pressed back into him. Her cheeks burned, her chest rose and fell with every breath. A tear rolled from the corner of her eye-not from pain, but from the weight of everything. His touch. His silence. His devotion.

Siddharth's mouth found the skin behind her ear, breathing into her, lost in her. His movements were steady, deep, unhurried, like he wanted to feel everything. All of her.

And she gave him everything.

His thrusts stayed slow... deep... as if he was trying to etch himself into her very soul. Noor's hand reached back unconsciously, resting over his hip, her fingers curling as the pressure inside her built again.

"Breathe, Cherry..." he whispered against her shoulder, his lips brushing the damp skin, his voice shaking now, full of restraint. "I'm right here..."

Noor bit her lower lip, holding in the sound that tried to escape. But her body couldn't lie-every part of her trembled, her legs trembling slightly against his as he held her tighter. Siddharth slid his hand to her stomach, pulling her closer, deeper. And in that moment, it felt like they weren't just two bodies-they were one.

She felt herself nearing again. He did too. The tension between them was so thick it felt like it would snap.

Siddharth didn't stop. He stayed inside her, holding her like she was something fragile, something sacred. But his eyes-they burned. Not with lust, not just that. They burned with something deeper. Obsession. Love. Need. Like she was his only prayer, and he had no god but her.

Still moving inside her-slow, deep, consuming-Noor's breath hitched when Siddharth shifted behind her, his body warm and strong against her back. He gently adjusted her head, tucking it onto his bicep like it belonged there-safe, cradled. His fingers trailed softly down her side before lifting one of her legs, draping it over his own thigh from back to make room for more of him. he lifted her legd pening her to him more. She gasped at the stretch, at how deep he could reach now. It was too much-too full, too intense-and her fingers gripped his arm tightly, nails pressing into his skin.

And then-she bit his bicep.

Not hard. Just... helpless. Like that was the only thing she could do when her body was drowning in him. He hissed under his breath, jaw clenched tight, but his arm held her closer. Her name left his mouth again-raw, broken.

"Noor..."

His voice cracked like it carried years of longing. He buried his face into the crook of her shoulder, his lips brushing her skin between soft groans, like he was falling apart with each thrust.

"You're doing so well, Cherry," he murmured into her ear, voice low and full of something raw, something powerful. "Just like that... let me love you."

A soft whimper escaped Noor's lips as he slid deeper inside her, slow and steady. Her fingers clutched his arm, and without thinking, her teeth grazed the muscle of his bicep, biting down as waves of sensation washed over her. His skin was warm and tasted like salt and longing.

Siddharth groaned softly, his breath catching at the way she clung to him. His hand slid down to her waist, gripping her just enough to keep her close, to keep her his.

"You're driving me insane, Cherry," he whispered, his lips brushing her temple. "Every sound you make... I want to hear more."

Noor closed her eyes, her cheeks warm. She felt each slow thrust like it reached her soul. There was no rush in Siddharth's movements-only devotion. He moved with purpose, each push telling her she was wanted, cherished, his.

Her hand found his-trembling fingers.

He paused for a moment, breathing her in, and then kissed the back of her hand.

And then-he moved again.

Slower. Deeper. As if he wasn't just inside her body-but inside her soul.

Then, with one deep thrust, he groaned-raw, broken. Her name slipped past his lips, cracked and full of something too big for words.

"Noor..."

She gasped-eyes fluttering shut as her body gave in. And he followed.

They stayed like that, their bodies tangled, his arms still around her, holding her as though the world would take her if he let go.

His face rested against her shoulder, lips still close, just breathing her in. His fingers ran slowly along her arm, down to her wrist, and he kissed her there too-soft, reverent. Noor stayed silent, eyes closed, breathless but her body leaned into his, trusting, safe.

Siddharth didn't move away.

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I stood in front of the mirror staring at myself.

Hair tied loosely, saree draped, just the pallu waiting to be pinned. I wasn't even looking at myself in the mirror. I couldn't

I quickly looked around the dressing table when my eyes fell on something-my concealer.

I paused.

I reached out and picked it up slowly, the cold tube feeling too sinful in my warm hand. My heart started beating faster for no reason, and I took a soft breath in.

Lowering the pallu a little from my chest, just enough to see my neck clearly in the mirror, I saw them.

The soft marks he left last night.

They weren't too harsh, not ugly. Just... there. Proof of love. But still, my cheeks turned red the moment I saw them.

I smiled, small and shy, and quickly looked down. Why was I smiling? God.

Because of my bawala Aarth.

I uncapped the concealer with fingers that were almost shaking. I wasn't nervous... just-just feeling too much. My skin felt warm and cold at the same time. The mirror, the light, the memory of his lips on my skin. All of it was playing in my head.

As I gently dabbed the concealer on my neck, a small flash came in front of my eyes-his breath against my ear last night, the way he whispered my name like a prayer.

"Hey Bhagwan," I whispered to myself, shaking my head quickly, lips pressed together.

I looked back in the mirror, trying to hide those silly thoughts. I was trying not to blushing so much. But my cheeks-they had their own plans. And then... my eyes fell on the bed behind me.

Empty.

He wasn't there.

I remember, He had gotten a call early in the morning. I was half asleep, barely opened my eyes, but I saw him-sitting on the bed, holding the phone to his ear.

Then he looked at me. His eyes... they softened.

He bent down, kissed my forehead gently and whispered, "Take rest. Hmm. Mai aata hu."

And then he left.

It had been almost two hours now. I didn't know where he went. He hadn't messaged, hadn't called. And now I miss him.

I was still thinking all this when the door creaked open.

My hand froze.

I looked up.

It was him.

Sidd
harth ji

Wearing a plain white shirt, sleeves folded till his elbows, two buttons open, collar loose. His hair messy-not like his usual sharp, neat self. This Sidharth looked... undone. But somehow, that made him even more... mine.

I sucked in a breath.

Our eyes met. Just for a second.

And just like that, the whole night came rushing back to me. His touch, his voice, the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the world.

I looked away quickly.

My cheeks-red again.

I could feel his gaze on me. It made me shy. So I quietly put the concealer back on the table and picked up the pallu... pretending to pin it, even though it was already done.

He didn't say anything.

But I could feel him walking towards me.

Step by step, the air changed. Warmer. Denser.

And then I felt it-his hand, warm and strong, gently coming around my waist. Cold skin met his touch, and I closed my eyes for a second, just breathing him in.

His chest pressed softly against my back as he hugged me from behind.

I didn't say anything; but my lips, they curved into a smile.

""Good morning, Cherry," Sidharth ji's voice was so soft, his breath warm against my ear. I couldn't help but shiver at the closeness, his breath a little too gentle on my skin.

I didn't know how to respond. My heart was racing, my body frozen with shyness. I looked down at the ground, not daring to look up at him.

I heard him chuckle softly. Then, his hand gently touched my waist, pulling me closer. I could feel his chest against my back.

His lips brushed against my cheek then. It was soft, sweet... and I could feel my cheeks turn red. "Bahut khubsurat lag rahi hai aap," he murmured, his words warm and gentle.
(You are looking very beautiful)

I couldn't help but peek up at him in the mirror. But as soon as our eyes met, I quickly looked down again, my face burning. But I can still feel his heavy gaze on me. Clearly my throat I decided to speak.

"Kaam ho gaya aapka?" I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.

I couldn't handle the weight of his gaze for long. It made me feel exposed, but in a way I didn't understand. The way he looked at me, it felt like he could see everything-my thoughts, my heart.

His chin rested on my shoulder, and I felt his warmth seep into me. He breathed deeply, his face close to my neck. I closed my eyes, the moment so intimate, so... personal.

"Thora bahot..." he murmured, a smile in his voice.
(A little)

I smiled too, but it was shy. I didn't know how to act. It was overwhelming, the way he made me feel so... loved.

I placed my hand over his, just holding it gently, hoping to convey everything I couldn't say.

We stayed like that for a while, just breathing, just existing together in the silence.

Then I felt him move. I looked up in the mirror, noticing him shift slightly. Before I could react, he pressed a small kiss to my neck. I gasped softly, the warmth of his lips making me feel both nervous and loved.

He laid his chin back on my shoulder and spoke again, his voice now more serious, but still gentle. "Cherry, ek baat bolu?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

Without warning, he gently twisted me around, pulling me close. My chest pressed against his, and I felt his eyes on me, studying me, making me feel so... seen.

I tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold, not letting me escape. His gaze dropped from my face, traveling down to the marks on my neck. I knew what he was looking at, and my heart raced.

"Chupa kyu rahi hai? Sab ko pata chalne dejea, aapka pati apae kitna pyar karta hai," he teased, his voice full of mischief.

I couldn't stop the smile that stretched across my face, but I narrowed my eyes at him.

He threw his head back, laughing at my reaction. I slapped him lightly on the chest, trying to pull away.

But he didn't let go. As I moved, I felt a tug at my neck, and he pulled me back toward him.

He was still smiling, but there was no laughter now. His gaze softened. He looked at me, his smile still there, but now it felt deeper.

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch soft. "Acha sorry," he whispered, his voice now serious.

He leaned in, kissing the tip of my nose. "Apne papa ke ghar chalengi aap?"

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Siddharth's pov-

I sit behind the wheel, my fingers gripping the steering wheel with a calm that's almost too easy. The road ahead stretches out, but my mind isn't on the distance. It's on her. Noor. She's sitting beside me, so close I can almost feel the warmth of her breath mixing with mine. I glance at her, just for a second, enough to catch the soft glow of her face, the way the morning light touches her skin, making her look... radiant. Beautiful.

Her beauty hits me every time. The sunlight catches in her hair, making it shimmer just the way I like, and her skin glows like she's meant to be kissed by the sun itself. I can't help it-my eyes move to her hand resting casually on her lap. The way her fingers are relaxed, so natural. My chest tightens.

I shift my grip on the steering wheel, my knuckles tightening for a brief moment before my hand moves toward hers. There's no hesitation, just the familiar pull to be closer. I lift her hand, gently cupping it in mine. My thumb moves along her skin, slow and deliberate, tracing the soft lines of her palm. The moment is simple, but I can't help but feel the intensity of it, the weight of it. I hold her hand like it's my lifeline, like I've been waiting for this, for her, for so long.

Without thinking, I bring her hand to my lips, pressing them to the back of her palm. Just once, softly, a kiss so tender it's almost like a whisper. I hold her hand a little tighter. There's something about this simple contact that sets a fire burning in me-this quiet kind of obsession. I can't get enough of her.

I hold it there for a second longer than necessary, feeling her warmth against my lips. There's something about it, the softness of her skin, that makes my chest ache. I kiss her palm again, lingering just for a moment longer than I should. I don't want to let go. My lips are still on her skin when I pull away, but my hand stays, still holding hers, fingers entwined.

She's beside me, and yet it feels like I can't get enough of her. I pull her hand a little closer, squeezing it softly as I turn my gaze back to the road. But even with the road ahead, my mind stays with her. I keep sneaking glances at her, trying to memorize the way she looks at me, the way she just is. There's something about her presence that makes everything around me fade. My thoughts wander, but they don't stray far.

I keep my eyes on the road, but my mind is elsewhere. Her father.

The reports. I've been looking at them for days now, unable to shake the feeling that something is wrong. It was like a whisper in the back of my mind, something off, but I couldn't quite pinpoint it. I couldn't say it out loud. Not until this morning. The call I got made everything clear. The kind of clear that makes your stomach tighten with unease. I know now, with absolute certainty, that something is wrong.

I'm not going to say anything to Noor, not yet. She doesn't need to hear the worry in my voice. But I promised her, promised her that I would keep her father safe, that nothing would happen to him under my watch. And I'm not going to let this go. Whatever mistake is happening, whatever is slipping through the cracks-I will stop it. That's a promise I won't break.

I tighten my grip on her hand, feeling the soft pressure of her fingers beneath mine. I don't even realize I'm doing it at first, but it's like I need something to hold on to. Something solid in the midst of all this uncertainty. Noor's presence next to me, the warmth of her hand in mine, is the one thing I know I can trust.

"Papa ke liye kuch fruits le le?"

Her voice breaks through my thoughts.

The sound of her voice, soft and sweet, pulls me out of my thoughts. I turn my head to her, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the seriousness of the moment. I look at her for a beat, just taking in her presence, before I answer.

"Jaise aapki marzi," I say, my voice soft, carrying the weight of more than just the words.
(As you wish.)

I kiss the back of her hand again, this time a little slower, savoring the moment. My lips linger there for just a second longer, and as I pull away, my eyes meet hers. I take a deep breath, my focus momentarily lost in the warmth of her skin, in the way she's made me feel like I belong right here, with her.

For a moment, I forget everything else.

It's all becoming too much. My mind races through everything: the reports, the feeling that I missed something, the promise I made to her. There's no room for error. I won't let anyone hurt her, not her family. Not now, not ever.

For just a second, the weight of everything else falls away. It's just us. The road ahead, the future-none of it matters more than this. She's here, and I'll protect her. Always.

The silence in the room was a ticking bomb, and it finally exploded when Aditya stood up abruptly, his voice sharp, frustrated, and loud enough to pierce through the thick air.

"Are you even listening to yourself, Siddharth?"

Aditya's tone carried disbelief-disbelief mixed with anger. His eyes were sharp, lips pressed together, fists clenched at his sides. His whole body was tensed like a loaded spring, ready to lash out.

His tone was sharp, irritated, almost desperate. His eyebrows pulled in frustration, and the veins near his temples stood out as he stared at Siddharth, trying to make sense of what he had just said. His whole body screamed confusion-anger-a kind of fear that came only when something you love is at stake.

But Siddharth didn't flinch.

He sat calmly in his chair, his posture straight, his fingers interlaced in his lap. His face didn't change. As if he had already heard these words in his head before Aditya even said them.
His eyes stayed on Aditya, firm and steady, not proud-but unshaken.

He spoke, low and clear, his voice calm but heavy-like stone.

"Janta hoon. Aur samajhta hoon. Tabhi bol raha hoon."
(I know. And I understand. That's why I'm saying it.)

His words weren't rushed. They came slow, each word dipped in patience. But his tone carried weight-power. He wasn't asking for approval. He was informing.

Across the room, Noor's father sat quietly. Watching. Listening. Not a single emotion on his face, but his hands were clasped tightly on his lap-tighter than before. He was reading every move, every shift in tone.

Suddenly, Aditya pushed back the chair he was sitting in. The legs scraped against the floor as he stood up in frustration. He ran his hand through his hair, his fingers dragging along his scalp like he was trying to pull sense into the chaos of his mind.

He turned sharply, face twisted in disbelief.

"Do din? Papa jis stage pe hain... woh dawaiyaan ek ghanta late nahi ho sakti, aur tum do din rukne bol rahe ho?"
(Two days? At the stage Papa is in... his medicines can't be late by even an hour. And you're asking us to wait two days?)

His voice cracked, this time with something that almost sounded like fear. A genuine concern.

Siddharth took a slow, deep breath, closing his eyes just for a moment. He had expected this. He had prepared for it.

He still didn't move. He didn't react to Aditya's voice rising. He kept his posture, like a man sitting on a throne of logic.

"Mujhe pata hai main kya bol raha hoon. Aur mujhe yeh bhi pata hai ki main kyun bol raha hoon."
(I know what I'm saying. And I also know why I'm saying it.)

Every syllable was firm. Not arrogance. Clarity. His confidence didn't come from stubbornness-it came from knowing things others didn't. A man who had already seen the end of the road others were still walking.

Aditya's chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. He turned, this time slowly, his eyes narrowing at Siddharth.

"Kyun? Kyun bol rahe ho?"
(Why? Why are you saying this?)

His voice was sharp, laced with accusation.

Siddharth's jaw tightened.

Siddharth felt it then-the way Aditya was speaking to him. The sharpness. The disrespect hidden behind the questions.
His jaw tightened. His fingers curled slightly into fists.

He didn't like the tone. He didn't like the way Aditya was speaking to him. But he didn't react-not just yet. He held himself back. Because this was Noor's brother.

Just Noor's brother.

He pressed his lips together, swallowed back what he wanted to say, and turned his eyes-not to Aditya-but to Noor's father, who still hadn't moved.

Siddharth's voice softened, but the steel in it remained untouched.

"I need you to trust me here, uncle. Samay aane pe main khud bata dunga aapko."
(I need you to trust me here, uncle. I will tell you everything when the time comes.)

His eyes stayed on Noor's father, quiet and sure.

That was when he heard it-a deep, hard breath from Aditya And then, with that sarcastic smile that only comes with old bitterness, he said-

And then the words came. The kind that weren't loud-but cut the deepest.

"Aadat ho gayi hai tumhari na, Doctor Siddharth Rajvardhan? Papa se support leke khud ke kaam nikalwane ki."
(You're used to this, aren't you, Doctor Siddharth Rajvardhan? Taking Papa's support to get your own work done.)

That stung. But Siddharth didn't let it show.

He sucked in a slow breath through his nose, jaw clenching so hard that the muscles near his ears shifted. An old memory flickered behind his eyes-one he didn't want to remember. One that hurt.

He closed his eyes for a second.His hand moved into his pocket, silently

His fingers found them.

Noor's bangles.
Cold. Delicate. Precious.

He closed his fingers around them like a lifeline.
Like she was standing beside him. Like her touch was calming him.
And only then, did he open his eyes.

He closed his eyes for a second again, letting her memory calm him. Reminding him why he was enduring this.

He opened his eyes again, this time turning toward Aditya.

Sharp.

Sudden.

Like the silence before a thunderstorm.

"Beeti baaton ko beet hi jaane do, Aditya."
(Let the past stay in the past, Aditya.)

There was no politeness left now-only fire.

His voice wasn't loud-but it held fire. His eyes locked onto Aditya's, and for the first time, the calm in them turned to a quiet storm.

For a full second, both men stood in that thick silence.

Two men. Two truths.

Neither wrong.
Both unbending.

Their eyes clashed like swords in midair, unmoving. The tension in the room could be sliced in two. It was loud even in the silence.

Aditya's fists were clenched by his side. Siddharth's fingers were still gently brushing against Noor's bangle in his pocket. It was all that was stopping him.

They stood, two storms facing each other, and for a second it felt like anything could happen.

And then-

"Aditya."
The voice came from the corner.
Noor's father.

Calm. Commanding.

"Tumhari behen ka pati hai woh. Izzat se baat karo."
(He's your sister's husband. Speak to him with respect.)

The words cut through the tension like a blade.

The words fell like cold water on fire.

Both Siddharth and Aditya looked away from each other at once, the air still buzzing with everything that wasn't said. But the eye contact had broken. And with it, the storm paused-just for now.

Both Siddharth and Aditya stepped back-but the anger remained. In their stiff shoulders. In their heavy breaths. In their clenched jaws.

Siddharth still didn't speak. He just looked away. Holding Noor's bangles a little tighter.

Siddharth took another breath. The tension hadn't left his shoulders. The anger still burned in the back of his eyes. But for now-he was quiet.

Only for Noor.

Only because he was the brother of someone worth his every breath.

"Aur rahi baat inki baat ki,"
Noor's father's voice cut the room like a blade-measured, slow, but laced with undeniable finality.
He leaned back in his old moving chair, the creak of the wood echoing through the silence. His eyes didn't blink as they locked on Aditya.

"Hume bharosa hai Siddharth pe. Wo jo kahega, wahi hoga."
(We trust Siddharth. Whatever he says, that's what will happen.)

The words landed like a gavel. Final. Heavy.
The room didn't breathe.

Aditya's head snapped toward his father, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Papa-"
(Dad-)
His voice cracked between anger and protest, but the word barely escaped before-

"Bas, Aditya."
(Enough, Aditya.)
That one word-bas-slammed the door on any further argument.
The weight of a father's command.
The silence that followed was sharp, buzzing with everything left unsaid.

Noor's father exhaled, slow and final, as he leaned forward again.
"Bhojan karwayi hai damad ji ko."
(Get lunch served for our son-in-law.)
His tone softened just a notch-but it was clear. There would be no more discussion.

Aditya didn't speak. He couldn't.
He just stood there.
Still.
Burning.
Something heavy swirling in his chest. But he swallowed it.

Siddharth... didn't move either.
He sat where he was-still, unmoving. His hand still inside his pocket, quietly gripping the bangles that belonged to Noor.
The cold metal against his palm grounded him. He hadn't said a word since the final verdict dropped.

But his mind?

His mind was loud.
Louder than the silence.

Mission accomplished.
He exhaled quietly, nostrils flaring. His jaw relaxing just slightly.

He didn't win this because he argued. He didn't need to.

Because Noor's father trusted him.
And because somewhere, somewhere deep and bitter and broken, Aditya didn't.

His eyes lowered for a second. But only for a second.

Noor's father will never continue those medicines again.

Because...
Because-

His thoughts stopped right there.

But the look in his eyes? It said it all.
There was more.
Something unresolved.
Something old.
And it had Noor at the center of it.

Aditya finally nodded stiffly.

"Ji."
(Yes.)

But the way he said it... it wasn't surrender.
It was acceptance of battle lost, not war.
He turned his head slowly, locking eyes with Siddharth.

Something flared between them-
Fire meeting fire.
Two storms watching each other.
A shared past. A buried grudge. A secret pain.

And then-

Aditya took a slow step forward. Then another.
He walked till he stood right in front of Siddharth, chest-to-chest.

The tension cracked in the air like static.

He looked down at Siddharth, who still hadn't risen.

Then Aditya bent just slightly, and spoke-not loudly, but clear enough.

"Bahot bada risk le rahe ho, Siddharth."
(You're taking a huge risk, Siddharth.)
"Galti hui... to maafi nahi milegi."
(If you mess up... there'll be no forgiveness.)

Siddharth's eyes finally flicked up-slowly.
He stared into Aditya's eyes, searching. Challenging. Understanding.

And accepting.

Aditya stepped back. But his words stayed in the air, thick and suffocating.

Then Siddharth's younger brother shifted awkwardly and said,
"Bhai... Noor..."
(Brother... Noor...)

The name hit Siddharth like a punch to the gut.

His lips parted slightly, his breath sucked in as if someone had stolen the air from his lungs.
He closed his eyes for a second-tightly-like he was trying to keep something from spilling.

His hand inside the pocket clutched the bangles tighter.

But this time...
It wasn't enough.

They used to calm him.

Now?
He needed her.
He needed her voice. Her touch. Her presence.

The bangles were a memory.
But Siddharth-he was craving the reality.

His eyes opened again, slower this time.
Flickering with something deeper.

Unsaid.
Unresolved.
Unforgiven.

His hand stayed where it was.
Gripping the only piece of Noor he had left at the moment.

And in the end, his whisper was barely audible.
But it was enough to split the silence in half:

"Na mujhse..."
(Not from me...)
"Na meri behen se."
(Nor from my sister.)

That last line didn't belong to Aditya.
It belonged to Siddharth.
It echoed in his own head.
A silent promise.
A vow.

Noor was his only peace in this chaos.
And peace was now something he was dangerously close to losing.

The room stayed silent.
But the storm?
It had just begun.
_____________________________

How was the chapter? Hope you'll
like it!

Thoughts about Sidharth?
Thoughts about noor?

Any favorite moments from this chapter? Do comment.

So, if you're curious to read further, the next 5 chapters are already up on ScrollStack! All you need to do is follow me there, and you'll always be a few chapters ahead as I have planned that this book will be 5 chapters ahead on scrollstack than on wattpad.

A small spoiler from chapter-66(It's already uploaded on stck & is paid)

╰┈➤Follow me on Instagram & scrollstack for spolier and early updates.