DCP Sir ❤ I Luv U (Completed)

chapter 24

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Confessions and Crimson Marks.

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The door clicked shut, sealing them away from the chaos of the outside world and the prying eyes of their friends. 

Ram didn't say a word. He didn't need to. 

He moved toward the large, wooden rocking chair in the corner of his room, settling into it with mythu still tucked firmly against his chest.

He pulled her onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her like iron bands, cuddling her closer as if trying to merge their heartbeats into one.

For several minutes, the only sound in the room was the rhythmic creak-creak of the rocking chair and the soft, ragged sound of their breathing. 

He buried his face in her hair, inhaling her scent. After a week of blood, gunpowde, this was the only medicine he needed. 

She was his peace, his sanctuary, the only thing that made the uniform feel light again.

He sighed, the tension slowly draining from his broad shoulders, and whispered her name.

"Mythili..." 

She didn't reply. She only tightened her arms around his neck, burying her face deeper into the crook of his shoulder.

He called her again, his fingers feathering lightly over her arms.

"Mythili.."

"Hmm," she hummed, shifting her weight. 

In her desperation to get closer, her hand brushed harshly against his wound.

"Sss..." He involuntarily hissed, his body stiffening as the fresh wound there protested the sudden pressure.

She jolted, pulling back instantly, her eyes wide with alarm. "What happened? Did I hurt you?"

Her eyes, still red and swollen from crying, began to frantically scan him. 

Now that she was in the light, she saw the reality of the last week. 

There was a small, neat bandage on the right side of his forehead and his left arm was wrapped in a surgical dressing. 

The sight of his injuries felt like a physical blow to her chest.

Tears, which she thought she had exhausted, began to pool in her eyes again. She reached out with trembling fingers, lightly caressing the edge of the bandage on his forehead.

He didn't move; he watched her with an intensity that felt like a flame, his dark eyes tracking every emotion on her face.

Driven by a sudden, fierce protectiveness, she raised herself in his arms and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead, right beside the bandage. 

His eyes fluttered shut. Her sandalwood fragrance hit him like a wave, clean and sweet, and he inhaled sharply, centering himself on her presence.

She retreated slightly, only to kiss his bandaged arm with equal tenderness. When she looked back at him, his face was palmed in her hands, her thumbs stroking his cheeks.

"I love you," she whispered. 

Her voice was husky, roughened by the hours of crying, but it was the steadiest thing he had ever heard.

Ram looked into her soul, his own walls finally crumbling. 

"I love you too, Bangaaram," he whispered back.