BEDIL SHERGILL || ✔ ||

[23]: Swaying Between Hearts

It was early morning, the first light of dawn barely filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The air was still, filled with the quiet calm that precedes the day. Drishti stirred in her sleep, a gentle movement that signalled her transition from dreams to wakefulness. Her body unconsciously sought the warmth beside her, and she turned towards Rakshit's side of the bed.

In her half-asleep state, she stretched out, her legs pushing forward, not realizing the space she occupied. Her foot collided with something solid-Rakshit's back, to be precise. With a forceful kick, she sent him tumbling off the bed.

A loud *thud* echoed through the room as Rakshit hit the floor, tangled in the blankets. The sudden noise startled Drishti awake. She shot up in bed, eyes wide with surprise, her heart racing from the abruptness of it all. She glanced over the edge of the bed and saw Rakshit sprawled on the floor, his hair dishevelled, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, as the absurdity of the situation dawned on her, Drishti couldn't help herself. A giggle bubbled up from her chest, quickly escalating into full-blown laughter. She clutched her stomach, unable to contain her amusement as she watched Rakshit struggle to untangle himself from the blanket.

"Are you serious?" Rakshit groaned, rubbing his shoulder as he glared up at her. "You kicked me off the bed!"

"I'm so sorry!" Drishti managed to gasp out between fits of laughter, though her apology was anything but serious. The sight of him, usually so composed and in control, now dishevelled and slightly bruised, only made her laugh harder. "But... but you should've seen your face!"

Rakshit, finally freeing himself from the blanket, stood up with as much dignity as he could muster, though the irritation on his face was undercut by the sarcastic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oh, you think this is funny, do you?"

Drishti nodded, still chuckling, her eyes bright with mischief. "Absolutely hilarious," she teased, shifting on the bed to sit cross-legged, her hair tousled from sleep. "I mean, who knew the mighty Rakshit Shergill could be so easily defeated by a bed?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, but the glint in them betrayed his amusement. "You'll pay for this" he warned, stepping closer to the bed.

"Oh really?" Drishti challenged, a playful smirk on her lips. "What are you going to do? Kick me off the bed too?"

Rakshit didn't respond immediately. Instead, he leaned down, hands braced on either side of her, effectively trapping her in place. The sudden proximity made Drishti's laughter die in her throat, her heart skipping a beat as she looked up at him. He was close enough that she could see the faint stubble on his jaw, feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

"Hmm.. maybe" he said softly, his voice low and dangerous, though there was a teasing edge to it. "Or maybe I'll find another way to get even."

Drishti swallowed, her playful bravado faltering for a moment as she tried to gauge his intentions. "What... what do you mean?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly. The way his voice sounded early in the morning made her shiver more than she had expected.

Rakshit's morning voice was different from his usual sharp, commanding tone. It was huskier, deeper, with a rough edge that hinted at sleep still clinging to him. There was a certain warmth to it, a softer, almost intimate quality that made it sound less guarded and more vulnerable. It was the kind of voice that could send a shiver down your spine, especially when he spoke in those low, deliberate tones that seemed to resonate in the quiet of the morning. Even a simple word or phrase, when spoken in that voice, carried an unintentional allure that made it impossible to ignore.