𝐔𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

16- Akshay

Theme- Glitter+Blue-Cool/Hot.

───※ ·❆· ※───

(Morning)
The sunrise striking through my window harshly woke me from my sleep at the set hour. I threw myself out of bed with a weak vision, walking to the kitchen. Taking a water bottle out of the fridge, run by thirst, I gulped down the liquid hurriedly. I was hoping to clear out my memory that stuck stubbornly to my being. Yet, no matter how much I drank, yesterday's event didn't leave me.

(Flashback)

Visions flickered through my mind like a short clip, replaying scenes of fierce emotions and moot rage. With a sigh, I shut the fridge door and leaned against the kitchen counter, lost in contemplation. It was clear that I needed to confront these emotions head-on.

Yesterday, gone by curio and a need to watch her, I decided to visit the club. I convinced myself that it was a chance to see her motives. Nonetheless, deep down, I knew it was just an excuse to see her once again.

I got into my car, aware that my security team would keep a close eye on Mia. As her older brother, I understood how she could sometimes behave when under the influence.

I Arrived. I wasted no time and headed for the surveillance room. It was a place I rarely visit, and I let my team do their work.

As my eyes scanned the monitors, they fixed on her and my sister.

I tried to shift my attention to the other screens but failed, monitoring different areas of the club. Yet my gaze kept returning to Meera.

After Meera returned from the dance floor, she sat at the bar. Everything appeared fine until my dread grew upon seeing a man near her, invading her personal space. I tried to skip it initially, as he reminded me of what I was doing to her. But as he caught her in conversation, my discomfort mounted. And then, my dreadful fears rose as he forcefully grabbed her by her wrist, causing her pain.

Rage grew within me like a volcanic flow. Without a moment's pause, I stormed out of the surveillance room, to reach him and put an end to the situation. 

How dare he touch her, inflicting any form of harm? My protective instincts override everything else.

As I approached her and the man, with hot fury, I unleashed a forceful punch, causing him to stumble back and collapse against the bar platform. My focus drifted solely on him, disregarding the chaos surrounding us.

"How dare you touch her?" I yelled, my voice dripping with anger. The impact of my voice served as a clear warning, making it clear that his actions were unacceptable.

The moment's intensity into a glorification of my anger. Her voice broke through the haze of my rage.

"Please don't fight!" Meera interruption slitting through my anger. Startled, I paused, rising to my feet and turning to face her. Time ceased as our eyes sealed, a moment of stillness spread with the chaos.

Fear showed across her features, her eyes revealing both pain and unshed tears. In that instant, my anger melted, replaced by deep concern for her.

"You should consider yourself lucky," I warned him, my voice spiked with brooding wrath. "If I ever catch you near her, any woman, or any other person again, there won't be anyone to stop me. Remember that." A wildfire smouldered within me, seething flames fuse protection.

With a commanding presence, I demanded the immediate evacuation of the club, instructing everyone to vacate the premises. The urgency in my voice left no room for negotiation as I took charge, ensuring the safety of those present.

Gradually, people started to leave. Then I spotted Mia, clearly drunk. Before I could say anything, she jumped in.

"Are you hurt? Let me see," she asked Meera.

"I'm alright, Mia,"

That's my sister—stubborn and adorable all at once. I felt anger bubbling up toward her too. I stepped closer and said to Mia, "Let's go home, Mia."

Mia rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand, trying to walk, but she stumbled. Just as I was about to catch her, Meera held her steady.

I held onto my sister and led them outside the club. I turned to my guys.

"Make sure my sister gets home safe," I told security.

Finally, I got her settled in the car.

As we drove off, I turned back and saw her. This was going to be tricky.

As the car glided away, I turned, and there she stood—a vision that sparked a flood of emotions in me. The frustration I'd been holding back surged again, especially seeing her in that stunning maroon dress. Every strand of her hair seemed to move in slow motion, defying gravity. I couldn't look away from her delicate frame—broken yet captivating. My heart raced, hoping this wouldn't be the last image I had of her.

With cautious steps, battling my insecurities, I approached her, drawn by an irresistible force. But the moment our eyes met, my anger softened into a tender ache.

Her voice quivered. "I have my car; I can—"

In an instant, my tenderness flipped back to anger, and I couldn't hold back.

"Not now."

I got that she was independent, but this wasn't the time for a fight. I couldn't bear the thought of arguing with her—I was scared of losing her more than anything.

Gradually, my anger faded, tangled with other emotions. With each step toward her, a sharp pain hit my heart, like her pulling away was a wound.

I took another step closer, and my heart sank as she instinctively stepped back. The pain welled up inside me, an ache that hit whenever she distanced herself. It was a constant reminder of the walls she'd built—the barriers I longed to break down.

I reached out to gently grasp her elbow, pulling her closer to me. In that moment, I could feel her fragility and her innocence emanating from within. The brush of her hand against my skin sent electric currents racing through me, making me powerless against the magnetic pull between us.

Then, my gaze fell on her wrist. That's when I noticed the red marks from his brutality. Anger grew within me, infusing with my ongoing frustration. Why hadn't she told me when I asked?

"When I asked you, why didn't you say he hurt you?"

But before she could answer, impatience took over. I stepped out to grab ice cubes and came back.

"Give me your hand." Fear and vulnerability crept into my voice.

She hesitated, her hand hovering in the air, and I held my breath, praying she'd trust me. Finally, she gave her hand.

"Please," I whispered with understanding.

In a tender moment, I reached out and gently touched her wrist, my fingers tracing her skin. The sight of those marks still aroused anger within me. But more than that, I craved her gaze, knowing she'd always avoided me in the past.

With care, I placed the icy pack on her injured wrist, hoping it would ease her pain. It was my way of showing I'd do anything to help her, even if it was just a gentle touch. I wanted her to know she had control over me. Despite the disturbance she caused within me, I was ready to surrender to her at that moment. But when she pulled her hand away, it felt like time froze. I reluctantly let go making my fingers hanging in the air.