Aryan's POV
Aryan here, There's nothing special about me just a cold, rich, rude, handsome, etc bastard that's what everyone defines me as and you know what, I don't care. I made myself this way
I remember the day Mom died. I was eight, and the hospital smelled of antiseptic, a sharp, cold smell that stung my nose. I was holding Dad's hand so tightly, like I could somehow keep her here if I just didn't let go. Mom was pale, so pale, and I didn't understand why she couldn't just get better. I didn't understand why she had to leave us.
Dad didn't cry then, at least not in front of me. But I saw his face, the way it crumbled when he thought I wasn't looking. After that, everything changed. Dad threw himself into work, expanding the business, turning it into the empire it is today. I followed him, learned to run things, learned to be strong because I had to be. He never said it, but I knew he needed me to be tough.
I became cold. It wasn't a choice it was a necessity. I had to keep everything under control. Emotions were messy, and if I let myself feel too much, it would all come crashing down. So I stopped letting people in. I buried the pain, the memories of Mom, deep inside and focused on work. The business was safe, predictable but people weren't they betray.
Especially doctors.
After Mom died, I never trusted doctors again. They couldn't save her, so what could they possibly do for me? When I found out I had arrhythmia, it was just another reminder that my heart, like everything else in my life, was flawed. I hated the idea of being at the mercy of someone in a white coat, someone who pretended to care but never really knew the cost of losing someone.
Dad was different, though. He always cared too much. Even when I acted like I didn't need it, he would check in on me, remind me to take care of myself, make sure I saw the doctors even though I hated them. He lost Mom, too, but somehow, he stayed kind. I don't know how he did it.
So, here I am, in another hospital room, waiting for yet another doctor to tell me what's wrong with me. I don't expect anything different this time. They're all the same—cold, detached, pretending they know what's best for me.
Then he walks in.
He's nothing like I expect. Soft, gentle, handsome with a warm smile that feels too real for this place. He doesn't even look like a doctor should, at least not the way I've built them up in my mind. He looks like someone who actually cares. I hate that.
"Mr. Aryan Mehta," he says, his voice calm, too calm. I nod, giving him the bare minimum response. I'm not here to make friends. I'm here because I have to be.
He starts talking about my condition, explaining things in simple terms, as if I don't already know what's wrong with me. I tune out at first, but something about his voice pulls me back in. There's a softness there, something genuine. I don't like it. It feels dangerous.
As he moves around the room, he's relaxed, easygoing in a way that makes me uncomfortable. He doesn't look at me like I'm just another patient. He looks at me like I'm... someone special. And I hate that I'm noticing this, that I'm noticing *him*. It feels like a betrayal to myself, to the walls I've built around my heart.
After the appointment, I can't get him out of my head. I try to focus on work, on running the company, on staying cold and detached, but he's there, lingering in the back of my mind. It's infuriating. I shouldn't care. I don't care. But the way he looked at me, the way he spoke to me, it's sticking with me, and I don't know why.
I collapsed in my office, this thing never happened to me maybe too much stress lately, when I opened my eyes, I was brought to hospital and no one around just me. I just sat in bed watching outside the window just then the door opened, Arjun, he looked like he came rushing here. Why? For a moment our eyes meet we both lost ourself in each other, I quickly regained my posture and looked away. I was embarrassed and slightly peeked him, he was trying to hide his blush. cute. No.... No way I hate it
It reminds me too much of the last time I let someone in. I thought I could trust them, thought they cared, but in the end, they left. Just like Mom. That hurt, more than I'd like to admit, and I promised myself I'd never let anyone get that close again. It's easier to be alone, to focus on work, to stay in control.
But Arjun, with his soft eyes and warm smile, is starting to break through that wall, and I hate it. I'm not ready to feel something again, not after what happened before. Not after all the times I've been let down.
Dad would tell me it's okay to feel, that not everyone will leave, but what does he know? He still believes in people, still believes in love. I've learned better. I know what happens when you let people in.
I'm not ready for this. Not yet.
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Prescription For Love
RomanceDr. Arjun Rao, a cardiologist, navigates the chaos of his profession and love. Known for his innocence and optimistic nature. Arjun's life takes an unexpected turn when he meets Aryan Mehta, a cold but cute boy who becomes his patient. As their path...