I Found You

37.

• Vikram •

It had been two hours now that she had been sleeping. Two whole fucking hours and the harrowing scene was still replaying vividly before my eyes.

The sound of her sobs still echoed in my ears. I could still hear the echoes of her desperate gasps for air. And the way her body had trembled uncontrollably in my arms.

My heart ached deeply, watching her so vulnerable. I hated how helpless I felt, unable to provide the comfort and solace she needed. I hated how something deep within me pricked when she flinched at my touch.

I know I shouldn't think this way, but it hurt the way she pulled back from my hold to her father's. Fuck. Thinking this way felt entirely wrong, yet I couldn't help it.

I watched as her chest rise and fall steadily, while her hand remained firmly clasped in mine. The lines of worry that had etched themselves into her features seemed to have softened in her sleep. Her mascara was smudged, mixing with the dry tear stains on her face.

And yet I found myself marvelling at how beautiful she looked right now. I traced my thumb lightly over the back of her hand, feeling the softness of her skin.

Her grip on my hand tightened and she stirred, mumbling something incoherent before pressing her face against my middle.
I leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face, which seemed to disturb her.

Today I realized it wasn't just affection I felt for her, it was something deeper and purer that had been growing strongly without my notice. It was undeniable that I was falling for her—falling madly and deeply.

I don't know if it was the way she laughed at Kabir's lame jokes, throwing her head back, or the way she blushed at my teasing, with a crimson hue creeping up her cheeks, or was it the way she smiled so warmly, lighting up my mood.

Maybe it was the way she scrunched her nose whenever her hair fell into her face, tempting me to tuck it away. Or was it the way she flared her nostrils in anger or how her nose would turn red when she cried, a sight that made me want to hold her so close and never let go.

It could have been the way her brown eyes stared into mine, filled with depth. Or the way she bit her lip when she was nervous or in a deep thought, or maybe the way she kissed me so tenderly leaving me longing for more and more.

Perhaps it was the way she hugged me as she fell asleep, her body fitting so perfectly against mine, making me feel at peace. And the way she cared for me and our family, always putting others before herself. Or was it the way how she was possessive over me, which made me feel cherished.

Or maybe, it was simply the way she breathed, as if her very existence was
meant to be intertwined with mine.

As I absentmindedly continued to caress her tear-streaked face, her eyes fluttered open, taking a minute to adjust to the lights before she raised her head to meet my gaze.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," I whispered softly, my thumb still resting on her cheek.

"It's okay." She pulled back, resting her back against the headboard, her eyes leaving mine as her hand slipped away
from my grasp.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, breaking the silence that had settled between us.

She shook her head, gathering her hair back, the strands slipping through her fingers as she fumbled with a hair tie.