Nandini Verma was 18 when she penned her first story, a tale of passion, betrayal, and revenge. It was a masterpiece, poised for publication. But on the night she was to share her brilliance with the world, tragedy struck. Her abusive father, a figu...
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The couch was far from comfortable, for a tall man like me.... I shifted restlessly, trying to find a position that would offer even a semblance of comfort, but it was no use. Sleep was elusive, slipping through my grasp no matter how hard I tried to cling to it. I had only just managed to doze off when I woke up again, my body aching from the awkward angle. It was still dark outside; the faintest light of dawn was just beginning to creep in through the curtains.
As I opened my eyes fully, I noticed a blanket draped over me, something I didn’t recall pulling over myself. I reached for it, my fingers tracing the soft fabric, and I realized Nandini must have placed it there. Despite everything, she still thought of my comfort, even when she had so much on her mind. The thought brought warmth to my chest, a feeling I wasn’t used to.
I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and noticed the balcony door slightly ajar. She was already awake, standing there in the cool morning air, her silhouette framed by the dim glow of the city lights. There was something about the way she stood, her posture tense, that sent a ripple of concern through me.
Without making a sound, I walked over to her, my steps quiet on the floor. I didn’t say anything as I approached, just stood by her side, my presence an unspoken offer of comfort. She sensed me, as she always did, and turned around, her eyes searching for mine.
“Did I wake you up?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with a weariness that hadn’t been there before.
I didn’t answer her question, instead, my eyes locked onto her face, searching for any sign of what might be bothering her. I reached out, my hand gently cupping her cheek, pulling her face toward mine so I could see her better. “What happened?” I asked, my voice was low and steady.
She hesitated, trying to shrug it off casually, but I could see the fear in her eyes. It was subtle, hidden beneath the surface, but it was there. “Just a nightmare,” she said, attempting to sound nonchalant. “Nothing, really. I think I should go back to sleep.”
She turned to leave, but before she could take a step, I pulled her back to me, her chest colliding with mine. I held her close, my arms wrapped around her securely. “If anything is hurting you or giving you anything other than peace or happiness, it can never be nothing,” I whispered, my breath brushing against her ear. “Tell me, little Swan, what’s bothering my Nandini?”
She was silent for a moment, her gaze drifting away as she considered my words. Finally, she sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of her thoughts. “It’s that night, the night I ran away,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “Something happened, and I always get nightmares about it. But after meeting you, they weren’t as frequent. Now, suddenly, it’s happening again, and this time, it feels more… real.”
Her words sent a chill down my spine. I understood then that my powers might have inadvertently triggered her memories, making the nightmares more vivid, more intense. I cursed myself silently, hating the fact that I had brought her pain, even unintentionally. I knew I had to divert her attention, to make her forget, at least for a little while.
Gently, I let my hands glide down to her waist, my fingers lightly brushing against her skin. It wasn’t a firm hold, just a soft touch, but it was enough to elicit a reaction. She twitched slightly, a surprised giggle escaping her lips, and tried to squirm away. “What are you doing?” she asked, trying to sound stern, but there was a teasing edge to her voice.
I smiled, feeling a sense of relief as I saw her relax, even if just a little. “I was just thinking,” I began, my tone playful, “since we’re both not sleeping, maybe we could find some other activities to do.”
Her eyes widened as she realized what I was implying. She pushed against my chest, but I didn’t budge, my smirk growing wider. “Yashwardhan!” she exclaimed, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink.
I chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You’re a writer, Swan. You write that… smutty stuff. Don’t tell me your mind didn’t go there either.”
She turned even redder, the blush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck. I had successfully diverted her thoughts, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. She was no longer thinking about the nightmare, about the past. She was focused entirely on me, and that was exactly what I wanted.
“Stop it,” she muttered, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably. She was embarrassed, and I found it utterly endearing.
But I wasn’t done teasing her yet. “What’s wrong, Swan? Embarrassed that I figured you out?”
She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, but I could see the faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re impossible.”
I grinned, knowing I had won this round. “And you like it.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, she let out a small laugh, the sound light and free. “Alright, alright. Enough with the teasing. I’m going back to bed.”
But before she could move away, I caught her hand, my fingers wrapping around hers. “Wait,” I said softly, my voice losing the teasing edge. “Let me stay with you. Just until you fall asleep.”
She looked at me, her eyes searching for mine for a moment before she nodded. “Okay,” she agreed quietly. “But you have to promise you’ll stay until I’m asleep.”
“I promise,” I said without hesitation, meaning every word.
We walked back to her room, the silence between us comfortable. I helped her into bed, pulling the covers over her as she settled in. But instead of settling beside her on bed , I sat down on the floor beside her, my hand still holding hers. She seemed surprised at first, but she didn’t protest. Instead, she smiled softly and closed her eyes, her grip on my hand tightening slightly.
I watched her as she fell asleep, her breathing evening out into a steady rhythm. She looked so peaceful, so serene, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of protectiveness.
But as much as I wanted to, I knew I couldn’t protect her because The past had a way of creeping back, no matter how hard you tried to keep it at bay. And while my powers could soothe her for now, I knew there would come a time when she would have to face those demons on her own.
For now, though, I was content to just be there for her, to hold her hand and watch over her as she slept. Eventually, my own eyes grew heavy, the events of the night finally catching up with me. But I didn’t move, didn’t let go of her hand. I just leaned back against the wall, my head resting on the edge of the bed, and allowed myself to drift off, comforted by the steady rhythm of her breathing.
And in that moment, with her hand in mine and the first light of dawn creeping in through the curtains, I felt something I hadn’t felt in this world before meeting her .
Peace.
Small chapter !
Hello, my lovely readers! 💖🧿
It's your author, Megh. I want to take a moment to thank you all for your incredible support, your thoughtful comments, and your love for my characters. I know some of you might be wondering why the story seems to move so quickly, or why Nandini is so comfortable letting him stay with her at night. It all comes down to the deep, unspoken connection they share—one built on trust, even if Nandini doesn't fully understand it herself. As for Nandini's transformation, remember, she was always fierce, someone who loved the thunder and rain. But her trauma pushed her into a shell. Asura isn't just breaking that shell—he's helping her rediscover who she really is. Nandini was never just an ordinary girl; after all, she wrote 'Asura' at just 18! I hope you continue to love and understand them as they grow together.
