❝𝐀 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.❞
~•~
Obsession is a dangerous game, but for him, it's the only game worth playing. Abhiman Singh Rathore, a ruthless underworld king with the face of a savior and the heart of a devil...
I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad. The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had.
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My eyes fluttered open, but the world around me was blurred, a haze of shadows and muted light. A dull, throbbing ache pulsed in my temples, intensifying with every heartbeat, and something cold and sharp tugged at my arm. I blinked, forcing my vision to clear, and the familiar ceiling of my room slowly came into focus. The pain in my hand brought me fully into the present-there was something embedded in my veins, an IV drip.
The events of the previous night rushed back in fragmented pieces-panic, desperation, the pills. My hand instinctively reached for the nightstand, my heart lurching as I remembered the empty bottles, remembered those fleeting seconds when I thought it would all be over. I tried to sit up, but the world spun around me, and I had to steady myself by gripping the bed sheets tightly.
But before I could fully comprehend my surroundings, the familiar voice pierced through the fog in my mind, startling me out of my thoughts.
"Are you out of your damn mind, Sitara Malhotra?" The voice was unmistakable-Noor Khanna, my best friend and the person who had been both my savior and a sister to me.
She stormed into the room, her usually calm demeanor replaced by an expression of pure anger. Her dark brown eyes, usually soft, now bore into mines with a fierce intensity.
And I know now, I am in serious trouble.
Noor. She's the only one person who knew me inside out. The person who had seen me at my worst and still stayed. She's my best friend, and-ironically-my psychiatrist too. Our relationship was an unusual one, but it had grown into something irreplaceable.
I first met Noor on a rainy day in London. I had been wandering in the streets, lost in my thoughts, when I literally bumped into her. She was carrying an armful of books, and they went flying in all directions. I remember how apologetic I was, scrambling to help her gather her things while she just laughed it off.
"Don't worry about it," she had said with a smile that seemed to light up the dreary day. "Happens to the best of us."
We ended up talking, and I discovered she was a psychiatrist. Our paths crossed several more times after that initial encounter, each time feeling more like fate than coincidence. We quickly became friends and eventually, when I opened up about my past and the demons that haunted me, she offered her help as a psychiatrist though she is a fiesty one.
"I nearly had a cardiac arrest yesterday when I saw you like that, and you're smiling?" she scoffed, turning away from me as if trying to hide the raw emotion in her voice. Am I smiling?
