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Niharika Verma is a stunning semi-classical dancer who wants nothing more than to travel the world, but the shackles of her dreadful past keep her grounded. On the other end, Asia's well-known businessman and CEO of Ra...
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It was sunday. Anushka and Aarav went to meet their friends. Vivaan was out of India, and elders went to the orphanage.
Now today we both left alone at home.
I also wanted to go somewhere, but Mom warned me not to go.
And here, I was sitting sipping my coffee and watching her.
But, something was off.
She always woke up early. Every morning, without fail, she would be out on the balcony or in the corner of the room, stretching, meditating, or whatever routine she followed. It had become a habit-watching her move like clockwork while I pretended not to notice.
But today, she was still curled up on the couch, buried under the blanket like a cocoon.
I placed my coffee mug on the side table and glanced at her again. Maybe she was just tired. Or maybe she was pretending to sleep to avoid me. Wouldn't be the first time.
Fixing my collar collar, I walked toward her.
And then I noticed it.
Her face-flushed, unnaturally red.
Without thinking, I reached out, pressing my fingers lightly against her forehead.
The heat that met my touch made me freeze.
She was burning.
A frown creased my forehead as I withdrew my hand, my gaze flickering to her closed eyes. Her breathing was even, but her body was unnaturally still. No fidgeting, no shifting.
I exhaled sharply, running a hand through my hair.
Great. Now what?
I pulled my hand back, staring at her flushed face. Her breathing was slow, her lips slightly parted, and her entire body curled up like she was trying to shield herself from the cold. But I knew better-it wasn't the cold. It was the fever.
My first instinct was to call the doctor. But then I looked at her again, lying there, unmoving. She hadn't even reacted when I touched her.
That unsettled me.
I let out a slow breath, rubbing my temple. "Of course, this had to happen when no one's home."
Dragging a hand through my hair, I crouched beside the couch. "Hey." My voice was firm but low.
She didn't move.
"Listen, wake up." I shook her arm slightly. Nothing.
I sighed, my patience thinning.
She wasn't unconscious, just deeply asleep. But with this fever, she needed medicine-fast. And if she wasn't waking up on her own, I had no choice.
Without thinking much, I slipped one arm under her knees and another behind her back and lifted her off the couch.
