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“What’s that supposed to mean?” Aaravika demanded, her cheeks flushing.

He arched an eyebrow. Vayran leaned closer, his face mere inches from hers. Aaravika’s heart skipped a beat, and her eyes widened in alarm.

“W-What are you doing?” she stammered, clutching the book to her chest like a shield.

His smirk deepened. “Proving my words.”

Aaravika immediately covered her mouth with both hands, her words muffled. “I won’t waste my first kiss on you!”

Vayran’s expression darkened, but the mischievous glint in his eyes remained. He leaned even closer, his breath warm against her ear. “Try me.”

Panic flared in her chest as she reached for the blanket, yanking it over her head in a desperate attempt to escape his proximity. Beneath the cover, she cursed her own impulsiveness, her mind racing.

And then she heard it—a sound she hadn’t expected. A low, genuine chuckle.

Her breath caught as she slowly lowered the blanket, peering out to see Vayran standing there, a rare, unguarded smile playing on his lips.

“You laughed,” she whispered, her tone laced with disbelief.

Vayran immediately cleared his throat, the moment of vulnerability vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He straightened, his expression returning to its usual stoic mask. “Don’t get used to it.”

Aaravika blinked, still stunned by the sound of his laughter, but before she could say anything else, he turned towards the door and called for the nurse.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, sitting up straighter.

“Making sure you get another IV drip,” he replied without looking at her.

“I don’t need it! My hand feels numb, and I don’t want another needle!” Aaravika protested, her voice rising.

He crossed his arms, his tone firm. “You have typhoid, Aaravika. This isn’t just some ordinary fever. You need the fluids, whether you like it or not.”

She glared at him, her frustration mounting. “I told you my hand feels numb! And why do you care, anyway? Just leave me alone!”

Vayran’s gaze hardened, and he took a step closer to the bed, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “Stop being so stubborn. You’re the one studying medicine, aren’t you? You should know better than to ignore the treatment.”

Her jaw tightened, but she couldn’t deny his logic. She hated that he was right. “Fine,” she muttered, turning her face away. “But I still don’t need you hovering around.”

“I’m not leaving,” Vayran said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “If the fever spikes again, someone has to be here to handle it.”

Aaravika opened her mouth to argue but stopped when she saw the flicker of concern in his eyes. It was faint, barely there, but it was enough to make her pause.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly, her voice softer now.

Vayran hesitated for a moment before replying, his voice low and deliberate. “Because you are my wife and a responsibility.”

She frowned, unsure what to make of his words. As the nurse entered the room to adjust the IV, Aaravika leaned back against the headboard, her mind swirling with confusion.

For all his coldness, there were moments—fleeting, barely-there moments—when she caught glimpses of something deeper in Vayran. Something that made her question everything she thought she knew about him.

As the nurse left, Vayran settled into a chair near the bed, his piercing gaze fixed on her once more.

“Get some rest,” he ordered, his tone softer than before.

Aaravika sighed, her eyes closing reluctantly. Despite her exhaustion, her mind remained restless, the memory of his chuckle lingering in her thoughts.

And as she drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t help but wonder: was Vayran truly the monster she’d painted him to be? Or was there more to him than she dared to admit?

In the morning,

Aaravika stirred, the cool sensation on her forehead pulling her from the depths of sleep. Her eyelids fluttered open, and the blurry room slowly came into focus. The dim lighting and the faint scent of antiseptic reminded her of where she was.

Her gaze shifted to the source of the cold relief, and her breath hitched. Sitting beside her was Vayran, his expression calm and detached, though his actions spoke otherwise. He wrung out a cloth, dipped it into a bowl of cold water, and placed it gently on her forehead once again.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice hoarse but tinged with curiosity.

Without looking at her, he replied, his tone neutral. “Your fever spiked again while you were sleeping. Someone had to keep it down.”

She sighed, sinking deeper into the pillow. “You’re taking this whole ‘responsible husband’ thing too seriously.”

A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he continued his task with methodical precision.

Aaravika closed her eyes briefly, her mind shifting to her own worries. Two days. Her exams were just two days away. Panic began to bubble in her chest, her thoughts racing. How was she supposed to prepare in this state? The weight of expectations bore down on her like a leaden shroud.

Then another thought struck her, piercing through the haze of worry. The party.

Her eyes snapped open, and she turned to him abruptly. “What about the party? The one that was supposed to happen? Your family’s here for it, aren’t they?”

Vayran paused for a moment, his hand hovering over the bowl of water. “It’s postponed,” he said simply, as if it were of no consequence.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Postponed? Why?”

He shrugged, his tone indifferent. “Because you’re in no condition to attend, and I don’t feel like entertaining anyone right now.”

Aaravika stared at him, stunned by his casual dismissal of what she assumed was an important event. She wanted to press him further, to understand his reasoning, but the weight of her other worries pulled her focus away.

She sank back against the pillows, her thoughts spiraling once more. Exams. Her final exams of her fourth year in MBBS. If she failed this time, the consequences would be unbearable.

Her father’s voice echoed in her mind, sharp and unforgiving. “Failure is not an option. Do you hear me, Aaravika? You’ll regret it if you disappoint me again.”

Her hands trembled slightly, and she clenched them into fists, trying to steady herself.

“Stop overthinking,” Vayran’s voice broke through her spiral, calm but firm.

She looked at him, startled. “I’m not—”

“You are,” he interrupted, his piercing gaze locking onto hers. “Your face gives you away. Whatever it is, stressing about it while you’re sick isn’t going to help.”

Aaravika looked away, her lips pressing into a thin line. She couldn’t tell him. He didn’t need to know about her father, about the suffocating pressure she lived under.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, though the words felt hollow.

Vayran didn’t reply immediately. He set the cloth aside and leaned back in his chair, studying her intently.

“Fine,” he said after a long pause, his voice laced with skepticism. “But if you keep pushing yourself like this, you’ll break. And then what? What good will you be to anyone?”

The words struck a nerve, and she glared at him. “You don’t know anything about me. Stop acting like you care.”

Vayran’s jaw tightened, his usual cold demeanor slipping for a brief moment. “You’re right. I don’t know everything about you. But I do know that you’re reckless with yourself, and that’s not something I’m going to ignore.”

She stared at him, caught off guard by his intensity. Before she could respond, he stood up, his towering presence filling the room.

“Rest,” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Whatever it is you’re worried about, it can wait. Right now, your only job is to get better.”

He turned to leave, but paused at the door, glancing back at her. “And Aaravika… stop pretending you’re fine. It doesn’t suit you.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Aaravika alone with her racing thoughts.

She clenched the sheets tightly, her heart pounding. How could someone so cold and unfeeling manage to see through her so easily?

But even as she bristled at his words, a small part of her couldn’t help but wonder if, perhaps, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Two days later,

Aaravika slipped on her white coat, her fingers moving with practiced ease as she adjusted the fabric. Beside her, Shrivanya looked on with a mix of concern and frustration, arms crossed over her chest.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” Shrivanya said, her voice firm yet pleading. “You still have the IV needle in your hand, Aaravika. At least take a day more to rest!”

Aaravika didn’t even glance at her as she began packing her bag. “I’ll be fine, Shrivanya. It’s just an exam.”

“It’s not just an exam,” Shrivanya countered, stepping closer to her. “You’re recovering from typhoid, for heaven’s sake. Do you realize what could happen if—”

“Enough!” Aaravika snapped, turning to face her. “I know what I’m doing, okay? I can’t afford to miss this exam. You know how important it is.”

Shrivanya sighed in defeat, watching as Aaravika carefully slung her bag over her shoulder. She moved gingerly, her left hand held protectively at her side, the IV needle taped to her skin serving as a grim reminder of her fragile state.

Just as Aaravika reached for the door handle, it swung open unexpectedly, and she nearly stumbled back.

Vayran stood in the doorway, his tall frame filling the space with an air of quiet authority. His piercing gaze scanned her from head to toe, lingering briefly on the IV needle before his expression hardened.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with an edge that made Aaravika pause.

She straightened, meeting his gaze with as much determination as she could muster. “To college. I have an exam.”

His jaw tightened, and he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am,” Aaravika shot back, her tone defiant.

Vayran crossed his arms, his gaze unyielding. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere. Your health is more important than an exam.”

Aaravika’s frustration bubbled over. “You don’t understand! If I don’t give this exam, I’ll fail the year. Do you have any idea what that means for me?”

Vayran’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t respond. The truth was, he didn’t fully understand her desperation, but something about the fire in her voice tugged at him in a way he couldn’t explain.

Aaravika’s tone softened as she tried a different tactic. “Please, Vayran. I need to do this. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

When he didn’t respond immediately, she pulled out her ultimate weapon: puppy eyes. Her wide, pleading gaze locked onto his, her lips forming a small pout as she clasped her hands together.

Vayran’s lips twitched, a faint smirk threatening to break through, but he quickly masked it with a sigh. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Aaravika’s face lit up with hope. “So… I can go?”

“On one condition,” he said, his tone firm. “I’ll drive you to college.”

Her heart sank at his words, her mind instantly flashing back to that night—the terrifying ride where he’d driven like a madman, weaving through traffic with unnerving ease. She hadn’t known at the time that they were being chased, but the memory of his reckless driving still made her stomach churn.

“No way,” she said quickly, shaking her head.

Vayran arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes. “Either I drive you, or you’re not going anywhere.”

“That’s not fair!” she protested, her voice rising in indignation.

His expression remained unchanged, his resolve unshaken. “Take it or leave it.”

Aaravika groaned, running a hand through her hair in frustration. She hated the idea of being in a car with him again, but the thought of missing her exam was even worse.

“Fine,” she muttered reluctantly. “But if you drive like a maniac, I’m jumping out of the car.”

Vayran’s lips quirked into a smirk as he gestured toward the door. “Noted. Let’s go.”

As they walked out, Aaravika couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of her eye. His calm demeanor was infuriating, but there was also something oddly reassuring about his presence.

She wasn’t sure why, but despite her frustration and the tension between them, she felt a strange sense of security knowing he was there.

Still, as she slid into the passenger seat of his car, her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and dread.

“Buckle up,” Vayran said, his tone light but with a hint of teasing.

Aaravika shot him a glare but did as he said, muttering under her breath, “God save me.”

As the engine roared to life and they pulled onto the road, Aaravika gripped the seatbelt tightly, bracing herself for whatever lay ahead.

And yet, as the city blurred past the windows, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this ride was about more than just getting to her exam—it was a turning point, a moment where their worlds, so different and yet so intertwined, began to shift in ways neither of them fully understood.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Aaravika walked out of the college gates, her steps slow and careful. Her body still felt weak from her recent illness, and the strain of the exam had left her even more drained. She clutched her bag tightly, her thoughts swirling between relief and dread—relief that the exam was over, and dread at how she’d performed given her condition.

But as she stepped onto the pavement, her eyes widened in surprise.

Leaning casually against his car parked right at the curb, arms crossed and sunglasses shielding his sharp eyes, was Vayran. He exuded his usual aura of quiet authority, his tailored black shirt rolled up at the sleeves, revealing the faint outlines of his veins and the cold steel of his watch. He looked out of place amidst the bustling students, yet entirely unbothered by the attention he was drawing.

Her first instinct was disbelief. She had assumed he would leave after dropping her off, dismissing her presence as easily as he did everything else. But here he was, standing right there, waiting.

He glanced up, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made her pause. Sliding off the car, he straightened and walked toward her with slow, measured steps, his polished shoes clicking softly against the concrete.

“You’re still here?” Aaravika asked, her voice tinged with surprise and suspicion.

Vayran stopped a few feet away from her, slipping his sunglasses into his pocket. “What did you expect? For me to leave you to figure out your way home in this condition?”

She frowned, her irritation bubbling to the surface. “I’m not a child. I could’ve managed.”

He raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “By fainting halfway home? Or tripping over that IV needle you’ve stubbornly kept in your hand?”

Her cheeks flushed, both from embarrassment and annoyance. “I’m fine, Vayran. You don’t need to babysit me.”

His smirk vanished, replaced by a more serious expression. “You’re right. I don’t need to. But I am.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, Aaravika didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t used to people looking out for her—not like this.

“Fine,” she muttered, brushing past him and heading toward the car. “Let’s just go.”

Vayran followed her, opening the passenger door for her without a word. She slid into the seat, her movements careful as she tried not to jostle her left hand.

Once he was seated behind the wheel, he started the engine and glanced at her. “How was the exam?”

“It was fine,” she replied curtly, staring out the window.

“Just fine?”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I don’t know, okay? I’m tired, and I really don’t feel like talking about it.”

Vayran didn’t press further. Instead, he turned his attention to the road, his driving uncharacteristically smooth this time. The silence in the car was heavy but not uncomfortable, the hum of the engine filling the space between them.

As they neared their house, Aaravika finally broke the silence. “Why did you wait?”

He didn’t look at her, his hands steady on the wheel. “Because I wanted to make sure you got back safely.”

She turned to him, studying his profile. His answer was simple, but something about the way he said it made her chest tighten.

“Thank you,” she said softly, the words feeling foreign on her tongue.

Vayran glanced at her briefly, his expression unreadable. “Don’t mention it.”

As they pulled into the driveway, Aaravika couldn’t help but feel that there was more to his actions than he was willing to admit. And as much as she hated to admit it, the thought of him waiting for her, of him being there when she needed it most, left an impression she couldn’t quite shake.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The grand hall buzzed with subdued conversations as family members mingled, their voices a murmur against the opulent decor. Aaravika stood quietly beside Vayran, her unease growing as her eyes flicked over the gathering. She knew she didn’t belong here, not in this web of dark secrets and tangled relationships. Yet, here she was, bound by a contract and surrounded by people who barely acknowledged her existence—except for one.

Lavanya.

From the moment Aaravika stepped into the hall, she could feel Lavanya’s gaze burning into her. It was sharp and intrusive, a silent threat that sent shivers down her spine.

Lavanya approached them with deliberate grace, her lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She stopped in front of Vayran, completely ignoring Aaravika’s presence. Her voice dripped with a false sweetness that only added to Aaravika’s unease.

“Vayran,” Lavanya said softly, tilting her head as she looked up at him. “I was wondering when you’d grace us with your presence.”

Vayran’s expression didn’t change, but Aaravika noticed the way his shoulders stiffened, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

“What do you want, Lavanya?” he asked coldly, his tone devoid of any warmth.

Lavanya’s smile widened, her gaze flicking briefly to Aaravika before settling back on Vayran. “Must you always be so distant with me?” she said, stepping closer. Her fingers twitched as if she wanted to reach out, but she hesitated, her confidence faltering for a split second.

Aaravika’s chest tightened as she watched the scene unfold. Shrivanya’s words echoed in her mind: “Lavanya is obsessed with him. Madly. But it’s not love—it’s something darker, more twisted. She crossed a line once, and he almost killed her for it. She hasn’t forgotten, and neither has he.”

Lavanya’s gaze hardened, her mask of sweetness cracking as she took another step closer. “Why do you always push me away?” she asked, her voice lowering. “You didn’t used to be like this with me. Before she came.” Her eyes darted to Aaravika, filled with resentment.

“That’s enough, Lavanya,” Vayran said sharply.

But Lavanya wasn’t deterred. Instead, she dared to lift her hand as if to touch his arm. Aaravika saw it—the way her fingers trembled slightly, betraying her. It was fear, plain and simple. She was remembering that night.

The night she had crossed a line she could never uncross.

It was Shrivanya who had filled Aaravika in on the details, her voice hushed but filled with urgency. “Lavanya thought she could use her obsession to control him. She tried to sit on his lap that night, to provoke him into letting her