Happy New Year, my lovely readers!!✨🎉
May this new year bring you lots of happiness, love, and peace in your life.🤍
And yes—don’t forget to upgrade yourself with the new year.
Don’t live the same life you lived last year. I know making big resolutions and forgetting them in a week is boring (and most of us do that.. including me😅), so instead try making small changes—the ones you know you can actually follow. Slowly, they’ll help you become a better version of yourself🌱✨
As I promised you… I’m here with the update! 📖💗
Happy Reading!!✨🤍
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Avinash's POV :
For a second— i was shocked. And almost... amused. 'Self-harm? what my khargosh is thinking in this little head of her.. self-harm seriously..!'
Honestly, the thought was so absurd that I nearly laughed out loud. I had to bite it back. Hard. Because the way she was sitting in front of me, cupping my cheeks—so serious, so convinced—it wasn't funny to her.
She kept reasoning, listing things, telling me how sure she was that I did self-harm. I was still processing that stupidity— when she said it. "Main bhi... 2–3 baar—" (I too… have done it 2–3 times—)
Everything inside me snapped. My blood didn't just boil—it erupted. She had done it. That's what it meant.
That's why she was saying all this. That's why she was so sure. That's why she was looking at me like that. Because she was projecting herself onto me.
What the hell... My rani-sa. My rani-sa—had hurt herself.
I didn't even register when she dropped her hands from my face. I barely noticed when she looked away, probably because my eyes had gone dark.
I tried to control it. I really did. But the anger— it was slipping out of my grip. Just the idea of her hurting herself was enough to make my vision blur with rage. My chest felt tight, like something was crushing it from the inside.
I can't even tolerate a scratch on her. Not a bruise. Not pain. Not the idea of her bleeding—by anyone's hand, especially by her own. And she said it so quietly, so unaware of the storm she had unleashed inside me.
If merely thinking about it does this to me... i don't know what i'd do if i ever saw proof of it on her skin. Everyone thinks I am the dangerous one? But they had no idea— How dangerous i'll become.. when it comes to her.
She tried to turn away. To sleep. As if she hadn't just turned my world upside down with one careless sentence. I didn't let her.
I caught her hand before she could roll over— and before she could react, my eyes were already scanning her. My hands moved on their own, almost rough in their urgency. I checked her legs first—the skin visible between the hem of her long nightshorts and her ankles. Clean. Smooth. No marks.
My chest tightened. My gaze moved to her arms. Her T-shirt sleeves were up till mid-bicep. I checked there too. Slowly. Carefully. Nothing. No cuts. No scars. No bruises.
Relief should've followed. Instead, my mind spiraled darker. 'What if she hides it? What if she hurts herself where no one can ever see?'
That single thought was enough. Rage flooded me—hot, blinding, uncontrollable.
Before i could stop myself, i pulled her toward me and wrapped my arms around her tightly. Too tightly. As if.. if i loosened my grip even a little, she'd disappear... or break. But she didn't hug me back. She was froze and that made it worse.
After a few seconds, she pushed lightly against my chest, creating a little distance. I let her—but only enough to look at her face. My voice came out harsher than i intended, anger bleeding through no matter how hard i tried to restrain it.
"Batao," (Tell me) I demanded. "Kahan chot pahunchayi hai aapne apne aap ko?" (Where did you hurt yourself?) She blinked. And then— she laughed. Actually laughed at my face like i had just enacted some ridiculous movie scene.
I stared at her with absolute anger. My glare wiped the smile off her face instantly. "Arre—arre," (Hey—hey,) she said quickly, hands lifting defensively. "Aise nahi! Aise self-harm nahi karti main, buddhu!" (Not like that! I don’t self-harm like that, silly!)
My jaw clenched. She continued, softer now, almost explanatory. "Mera matlab tha... kabhi-kabhi gussa ya stress ho toh main bas... kisi hard surface pe punch maar deti hoon. Wall, table—bas. Usse thoda halka lagta hai. Woh self-harm... matlab, waise nahi." (What I meant was… Sometimes, when I’m angry or stressed, I just… punch a hard surface. A wall, a table—that’s it. It makes me feel a little lighter. That’s not self-harm… I mean, not like that.)
I didn't look convinced at all. She sighed and added, "College mein ek ladka tha... woh actually self-harm karta tha. Cuts, blades—sab. Toh mujhe laga shayad—" (There was a boy in college… he actually used to self-harm. Cuts, blades—everything. So I thought maybe—) she shrugged helplessly, "—shayad aap bhi." (—maybe you too.)
Then she looked straight at me, frustration and worry mixing in her eyes. "Ab aap hi batao... us room mein aur koi nahi tha. Har jagah khoon tha. Aur aapke haath mein chura tha." (Now you tell me yourself… there was no one else in that room. There was blood everywhere. And you had a knife in your hand.)
Her voice rose slightly. "Toh main aur kya samjhu, haan?!" (So what else was I supposed to think, huh?!) Before i could answer, she grabbed my hands like now it was her turn.
She inspected my palms, my wrists, my forearms—turning them over, just like i had done to her. Her fingers were warm, gentle... but her eyes were sharp, searching. No marks. No cuts.
She lifted one eyebrow slowly and looked up at me, silently asking her question. 'Now tell me.'
I didn't say anything. Not a word. I was still staring at her when suddenly her eyes widened—and she jerked away from me as if i were some contagious disease. "Haww!" she exclaimed dramatically. "Aap serial killer toh nahi hai?!" (You’re not a serial killer, right?!)
I blinked. She leaned back further, pointing at me with mock accusation, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Movies mein bhi na... bilkul aise hi dikhate hain," (Even in movies… they show it exactly like this,) she continued in a teasing, sing-song voice. "Aapne wahan kisi ka khoon kiya tha kya?" (Did you kill someone there?)
And then— she started laughing... light.. carefree. As if she hadn't just poked directly at the one truth i was trying to bury.
But my mind? My mind knew exactly what i had done there. The laughter echoed in my ears, but it felt distant. So i grabbed a pillow abruptly and placed it between us, creating a clear line. A boundary that she had drawn before.
"So Jaaye," (Go to sleep) I said curtly. She opened her mouth instantly. "Par Rana-sa— aapne jawab—" (But Rana-sa—you didn’t answer—) I lay down before she could finish, turning my back slightly to her. My hand reached out and switched off the lamps.
Darkness swallowed the room. Silence followed. My eyes were closed, but still i could feel her gaze on me—curious, restless, still searching for answers i refused to give.
The mattress shifted as she tossed once... then twice. I heard the blanket rustle as she finally pulled it over herself. "Good night, Rana-sa," she said softly.
I didn't respond. Seconds passed. Then i felt a poke on my arm. Gentle—but persistent. "Good-night, Rana-sa," she said again louder this time. I exhaled slowly, opened my lips, and replied in a calm, controlled voice, "Good-night... jaan."
There it was again. She huffed immediately. "Hmmph." I felt her turn away from me, her back facing mine, the bed dipping slightly as she settled in.
And just like that— she slept. While i lay awake in the dark.
Author's POV :
He was lying straight on his back, but his head had tilted slightly toward her while questioning himself. Siya had curled up, facing him, her body cocooned beneath the blanket. In the pale glow slipping through the curtains, her face was looking softer now — calm, almost peaceful. The storm from earlier had melted away, leaving behind a quiet innocence that made something inside him ache, as if he could watch her like this all night. And for a while, he did — just lying there, eyes tracing her features and the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.
Eventually, he closed his eyes, trying to sleep. But sleep was far away from his eyes. Then, all of a sudden, he felt it — a warm breath against his side, a gentle weight near him, and fingers... soft, hesitant fingers curling around his waist. His eyes snapped open. For a second, he couldn't move. Siya had shifted closer in her sleep, her face now buried near his chest. Her arms wrapped around him as if he were something safe — something familiar. Her breaths were slow, steady, fanning across his skin. And before he could even process it, she moved again — her leg slipped over his, tangling them together. He froze. Completely now. It wasn't that he didn't like it — far from that — but he wasn't ready for this. For her.
For a long moment, he just stared at her, taking in the warmth pressed against him, the trust in the way she sleep. Then, almost unconsciously, his arm moved. He wrapped it around her, pulling her closer, but gently — careful not to wake her up. Her head rested near his heart now and her hand was still holding him as if afraid he might disappear.
And like that — with his Rani-sa in his arms, her breath brushing softly against his chest — Avinash finally closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.
( guyyzz agar aapko pillow line ki yaad aa rahi ho toh .. mein bata doon ki woh siya ne neend mein hataa diye..!😂 )
(((Guys, if you’re remembering the pillow line… let me tell you that Siya removed them in her sleep..! 😂)))
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The next morning, as usual, Avinash had to woke up early. He had a habit of rising at 5 a.m. without any alarm—his eyes simply snapped open, as if programmed that way. But today, he woke at 6:30 am and the first thing he felt was warmth.
For a few seconds, he simply lay there, still and aware of the warmth pressed against him. Then he turned his head slightly—and there she was.
Siya.
His Rani-sa.
His Jaan.
She was sleeping like a child who had finally found a safe place to rest. Her face, so calm and unguarded, was turned slightly toward him, her lips parted just enough to let out a slow, rhythmic breath that tickled his chest. A few loose strands of her hair were framing her face. One hand was wrapped around his waist as exactly it was at night. Her leg rested over his, their bodies tangled in the kind of closeness that comes naturally only when there's trust—or something growing dangerously close to it.
He traced her features with his eyes—the small crease between her brows that shows that she is dreaming something, the slight curve of her lips that hinted like some secret happiness. 'How could someone look so peaceful, so vulnerable, and yet hold such power over him in her sleep?'
Careful not to wake her, he tried to remove his arm from under her shoulders. The movement was slow, almost hesitant. But the moment his warmth began to slip away, Siya stirred. Her brows knitted faintly, and she made a small sound—half sigh, half protest. Instinctively, her arm tightened around him, her body seeking his again. She burrowed her face against his chest, finding his heartbeat as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Avinash froze, then let out a quiet chuckle under his breath. 'Till yesterday, she was creating that pillow walls', he thought. 'And now look at her—my Jaan doesn't even want to let go of me.'
He whispered softly, almost to himself, "Will you still hold me like this when you wake up?"
He knew the answer—she wouldn't. Still, he couldn't help asking. He just wanted to feel her this close, even if it was only in her sleep.
'This kind of spell can be cast by only one woman on me even in her sleep— that is MY JAAN!!', he thought with a faint smile.
He then carefully tried to slip out of bed. God knows how he managed it. Siya simply refused to let him go—even in her sleep. Each time he gently lifted one of her legs off him, the other would find its way back. When he tried to move her arm, she only clung tighter, like a child refusing to part with her favorite teddy bear. Avinash sighed softly, torn between amusement and disbelief.
After what felt like a small battle fought in complete silence, he finally succeeded—slipping out from her hold without waking her up. He stood beside the bed for a moment, looking down at her peaceful face, a strange warmth spreading through his chest. Then he shook his head, chuckling quietly to himself and went to freshen up. After a while he came out of the bathroom and headed straight toward his private gym.
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I hope sabke doubt self-harm wale clear ho gaye honge!!😂
Okay!!
Now tell me in the comment section how was it????
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