Whisper in the Night|18+(hold)

Chapter 7 : Fear

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Rishav's POV:-

Love. The word itself tastes like ash on my tongue, a bitter residue of weakness, a pathetic vulnerability. My world, a landscape painted in shades of blood, betrayal, and the cold, unforgiving gleam of steel, had no room for such a sentiment. It was a liability, a chink in the armor I'd forged around my soul, honed by every shadow I'd embraced, every enemy I'd dismembered. I had always believed love wasn't meant for me, not for the monster I was, the ruler of the darkness I commanded.

Until her.

Kaira Singh.

My best friend's sister. My first... and my last damnation. My most exquisite, terrifying weakness.

I still remember the first time I saw her. Karan's 22 birthday, a night meant for celebration, not for the shattering of Rishav Shekhawat's carefully constructed indifference. I was in my second year of college, already infamous for the ice in my veins, the ruthless efficiency of my temper. Then she walked in.

A vision in a red salwar suit that seemed to melt around her curves, silver jhumkas whispering secrets against her neck, kajal sharpening the innocent depth of those doe eyes. And that small, black bindi, a fragile mark of fire on her forehead, burned itself into my consciousness. She was struggling with her dupatta, a wisp of silk that stubbornly refused to behave, and I watched her soft lips pull into a pout of irritation, a tiny frown creasing her brow.

And I—Rishav Shekhawat, the man who felt nothing, feared nothing—felt my chest seize, a brutal fist clenching around my cynical heart. For the first time in my life, I felt like a criminal, a sinner caught in the act. Falling for a girl eight years my junior, a girl who wasn't mine to even perceive in such a way. My gaze was a trespass, a sacrilege against something pure and untouched.

Did I stop because she was Karan's sister? No, that thought was as fleeting as a whisper in a storm. Was I scared of him? Never. Fear was a luxury I hadn't afforded myself since childhood.

I stopped because... I know. I know what it means to be an elder brother. The primal, unyielding fury that boils when someone dares to cast a covetous glance upon your own flesh and blood. If anyone, anyone, had looked at my sister Divya with the raw, possessive hunger that ignited within me for Kaira that day, I would have flayed them alive, without a second thought, without a shred of remorse. And so, I buried my feelings. I shoved them into the deepest, darkest corner of my heart, sealing them behind a wall of granite and ice, a tomb for a forbidden desire. It was the only sweetness I allowed myself – the agony of protecting her from me.

But I never stopped noticing her. Never.

It became a quiet obsession, a shadow that followed her, unseen. I saw the subtle shift in her posture when I entered a room. The fleeting dart of her eyes, searching for me, even as she pretended I was a ghost. The way her laugh, bright and unrestrained, could crack through the reinforced concrete of my composure, a tiny tremor in the cold fortress I called my soul. She tried to hide her emotions behind those innocent smiles, believing she was a master of disguise. Foolish girl. Did she think I, who could read lies in the twitch of a muscle, in the flicker of an eye, couldn't see the silent stories her heart whispered? Every nuance, every suppressed sigh, every fleeting glimpse of vulnerability... I cataloged them all. She was my book, memorized.