Rayaan's pov:

The room was quiet. Not the comfortable kind this was the kind where grief hangs like fog, thick and unspoken.

Arvi hadn't said a word since we walked in. She took off my coat, folded it carefully, and placed it on the lone chair near the window.

I stood awkwardly by the wall, unsure what to do in a space that felt too small for my guilt.

Then she walked to the corner, where a chipped water filter sat on the counter. I watched her hands move, still trembling. She poured water into a glass slow, measured.

She turned, walked over, and held it out to me.

"You should drink something," she said softly.

I stared at her at her bruised wrist, the cut on her lip, the broken strength in her eyes and took the glass from her slowly. I didn't even realize how parched I was until the water hit my throat.

"Thank you," I said, voice raw.

She nodded, then sat down on the edge of the bed like her bones had finally given up fighting.

That's when I saw the scrape on her elbow. The blood on her knee. The rip in her dress.

I set the glass aside and grabbed the small first aid kit from the corner.

"Sit still," I said, kneeling in front of her. "You're hurt."

She didn't argue.

Her eyes followed my hands as I dabbed the antiseptic onto her elbow. She winced.

"Sorry," I whispered, but kept going. "These might sting."

She looked away, letting me work in silence.

Then I reached her knee. "Can I?"

She nodded once, barely.

I pulled the torn fabric aside gently, revealing an angry scrape. My fingers brushed her skin, and something about how quiet she was made it feel even more intimate. She wasn't flinching out of fear. She was letting me in.

She trusted me.

Even after everything.

When I finished, I looked up. She was already staring at me.

"Thank you," she murmured, echoing my earlier words.

I stood slowly, forcing myself to take a step back. "You take the bed."

"And you?"

"I'll be on the floor."

She looked like she wanted to argue, but didn't. Maybe because we were both too tired. Too bruised in ways that didn't bleed.

So she laid down quietly. And I sat near the bed glass of water still beside me, her scent faint in the air, my guilt screaming louder than ever.

But she had given me water.

And I would give her silence. Safety.

Whatever she needed to breathe again.

She had laid down already, her back facing me, the blanket pulled up to her chin. But I was still on the floor one arm on my knee, staring at the wall like it held answers.

My eyes were dry, body stiff. But I wasn't going to move. Not until I was sure she was okay.

Then her voice broke the silence. "Rayaan."

I turned.

"You're not sleeping on the floor," she said without turning around.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Your face looks like you've been hit by a truck emotionally."

That made the corner of my mouth twitch.

She exhaled, slow and quiet. "Just take the bed."

I hesitated. "I can't."

"Why? Scared I'll stab you in your sleep?"

"...No."

"Then stop making everything harder than it has to be."

I stared at her silhouette. She wasn't angry. Just tired. She didn't want comfort she wanted normalcy. Someone to just lie beside her without pity, without walls.

After a pause, I stood.

I walked over slowly, every step feeling like a decision I wasn't sure I had the right to make. I sat at the edge of the bed, awkward.

"You can lie down too, Rayaan. I don't bite either," she said softly, almost teasing.

So I did.

I turned away from her, laying on my back, stiff as stone. The space between us felt like a chasm and yet... barely an inch.

She shifted slightly, her breathing steadying. Her presence was right there warm, quiet, human.

And suddenly, I wasn't just guilty.

I was something else. Something I couldn't name.

I let my eyes close, one arm draped across my chest, every nerve on high alert.

She had given me water.

Let me tend to her.

Offered me her bed.

And now, without a word, she had given me the kind of peace I hadn't known I needed.

Arvi's pov:

Warmth.

That was the first thing I felt when I woke up. A kind of warmth that wasn't from my old blanket or the rising sun filtering through the thin curtains.

It was from the other side of the bed.

Except... the other side was empty now.

I sat up slowly, my muscles sore, heart beating strangely fast as I looked around the room.

The door was closed. The glass of water from last night still sat untouched on the small table. The first aid kit was packed neatly where he'd left it.

And his coat Rayaan's coat-was gone.

He was gone.

My hand touched the part of the mattress beside me where the sheets were still crumpled. The same place Rayaan Oberoi had slept last night.

Rayaan Oberoi.

The man who once accused me of being a gold digger. Who humiliated me in front of his staff. Who called me names without knowing a single thing about me.

That man... had shot three people last night because they touched me.

That man had cleaned my wounds, sat beside me all night, and then without saying a word left before sunrise.

I stared at the ceiling, my mind spiraling. I had fallen asleep beside him. On the same bed.

And the strangest part?

I had slept peacefully.

I blinked out of the daze and reached for my phone.

There was only one person I could tell without feeling like I was losing my mind.

Text to Nia:

You need to come to my place. Now.

Don't ask questions.

I woke up and I think I slept next to Rayaan Oberoi.

THE Rayaan Oberoi.

I hit send and dropped the phone onto the bed, covering my face with both hands.

What the hell was happening?

There was a knock on the door so aggressive I thought it might fly off its hinges.

"Nia," I muttered, rushing to unlock it.

The moment it opened, she pushed her way inside, eyes wide, hair still tied up messily like she hadn't even brushed it. "You're lucky I didn't pass out on the road when I read that text."

"I said don't ask questions," I whispered, trying to hush her.

She ignored me completely, scanning the room like it held secrets. "Tell me you're joking. Tell me it was a dream. Tell me it wasn't the Rayaan Oberoi who slept in this bed. With you. In this matchbox of a room."

I sat on the bed, burying my face in my hands. "It wasn't a dream."

Her mouth fell open.

I peeked up at her through my fingers.

Nia stared at me like I'd grown another head. "So, what now? Did he like... vanish into thin air? Did you two cuddle? Was he shirtless? Did he-?"

"No!" I shot up, cheeks burning. "We didn't cuddle. We didn't even talk. He slept, I slept. That's it."

Nia crossed her arms, skeptical. "Uh-huh. So the same man who used to look at you like you were some low-budget scam artist now suddenly turns into Captain Save-a-Life, bandages your wounds, and spends the night next to you for... what? Charity?"

I looked away.

Because I didn't have an answer.

"I don't know why he did it," I admitted quietly. "But Nia... I was scared. And he showed up. Just him. No driver. No guards. And the way he looked at me it wasn't anger. It was..."

"Guilt?" she offered softly.

"Yeah," I whispered. "And maybe something more."

We sat in silence for a second before she dropped beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

"I still think he's complicated as hell," Nia mumbled. "But if that man keeps looking at you like that... I might just ship it."

I smiled a little.

Just a little.

.

.

.

.

I was still processing last night Rayaan's presence, his silence, the weight of him in this tiny room when my phone buzzed beside me.

Nia looked over from where she was making herself a cup of tea like she owned the place. "That better not be him again."

I glanced at the screen.

It was him.

Rayaan:

Didn't want to wake you. Hope you are good.

My thumb hovered over the screen.

My heart? Not so calm anymore.

"He messaged me," I said, voice small.

Nia nearly spilled her tea. "You're kidding."

I handed her the phone.

She read the message, then blinked up at me. "Okay, wow. This is like... softboy Rayaan unlocked."

I bit my lip, unsure how to feel. The same man who once made me cry in an office hallway was now checking if I slept okay. Saying I wasn't alone.

I wanted to believe it was guilt. Just that. A moment of sympathy from a man with a bruised conscience.

But a part of me... wanted to believe it was more.

"Are you going to reply?" Nia asked.

"I don't know what to say," I admitted, scrolling back up to re-read his words.

For someone like me, who'd spent years pretending she was fine with being alone... that hit harder than I wanted it to.

I put the phone down on the bed and exhaled.

"I'll think about it."

Nia leaned against the counter, sipping her tea. "Just promise me one thing?"

"What?"

"Don't fall for him unless you're ready for your whole world to shift."

I smiled faintly, even though it didn't quite reach my eyes.

Because I already felt the shift.

And it terrified me.

Rayaan's pov:

I didn't know when the sun had risen.

The streets were slowly waking up tea stalls opening, joggers pacing the pavements, cars honking like the city had a heartbeat again.

But mine felt like it hadn't calmed down since last night.

I glanced one last time at her window from the parked SUV, like some idiot trying to make sure she was still safe from the outside. It was ridiculous. She was fine.

Still, I waited another second.

Then I finally shifted gears and drove off.

The further I got from her tiny, cracked walled building, the emptier I started to feel.

Her scent still lingered faintly on my sleeves. That cheap soap of hers. The antiseptic. The way she'd handed me that glass of water, like she didn't care who I was or what I'd said to her. That night, I wasn't Rayaan Oberoi. I was just a man bleeding silently inside.

And she saw me.

Not for what I had but for who I was.

It was unnerving. Addicting. Dangerous.

The Oberoi Mansion gates swung open automatically as I pulled in. The contrast slapped me in the face.

Marble fountains. Sculpted gardens. Guards with earpieces and straight backs.

And yet, for the first time, this didn't feel like home.

I stepped out, ignoring the staff that greeted me, walking straight in through the massive double doors.

Mom was already at the breakfast table, looking up from her tea. "You didn't come home last night."

I nodded. "Had something important."

Her eyes narrowed. "Important enough to ignore your phone?"

"I handled it."

I didn't wait for her reply. I climbed the stairs, unbuttoning my cuffs slowly as I walked into my room.

Cold. Spacious. Perfect.

And somehow... lifeless.

I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor like it might give me a reason to stop thinking about her.

But I couldn't.

She wasn't just under my skin anymore.

She was in my thoughts, my guilt, my silence... and somewhere deep in the part of me I didn't know still worked she had found a place.

And I had no idea what the hell to do about it.