✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*
[ 𝐒𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐋 1 ]
Because this is where love fades and hate resides and intensifies, broken hearts produce the most tragic stories.
Their treachery is told through their bleeding hearts: their unrequited love was never reciprocated. The...
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Ada moved when the first light of morning crept through the sheer curtains, sending a warm, gold-dusted glow across the luxurious room. She blinked her eyes open, feeling the solid, radiating warmth of Vidyut's body beneath her. His arms, usually reserved and constrained, were now a snug, unyielding cage wrapped around her waist, and her head rested perfectly on the powerful plane of his chest, rising and falling in time with his steady, deep breath.
For a suspended moment, she was simply aware—aware of the texture of his t-shirt against her cheek, the faint scent of sandalwood and expensive cologne, the immense security of being held by the strongest man she knew. It was a sense of serenity and safety she hadn't had in a long, long time.
Then, the brutal, terrifying recollection of the panic episode the night before came flooding back, cold and sharp.
Her heart wrenched as she recalled the vivid, traumatic clarity of her dream: the accident, Vidyut's car tumbling, metal crushing, and the awful silence that followed. She had awoken in a cold sweat, her pulse pounding, the memory of his pale, lifeless body a horrific image etched behind her eyelids. A full-body shudder ran down her spine, and fresh, silent tears instantly pricked the corners of her eyes.
Vidyut had been there, as he usually was. He had hugged her, spoken calming, absurd things to her, anchored her to reality, and remained with her until exhaustion finally claimed her.
Now, in the calm dawn, she felt a profound stab of regret for disrupting his repose, quickly followed by an overwhelming wave of gratitude for his unwavering, quiet presence. He is the calm in my storm, the one who never asks me to apologize for my trauma.
Ada shifted softly, carefully attempting not to awaken him, her senses hyper-alert. She raised her gaze to his calm, sleeping face. He appeared so profoundly peaceful, in stark contrast to his usual concerned, calculating, and irritable demeanor. His dark hair was slightly mussed, and the harsh lines around his mouth were softened by sleep.
