SO..... the story is about Aryan Khan- A Bollywood prince
he's studying directing and wants to be like his dad.... but what happens when he meets a girl whom he knows from childhood and starts to develop feelings for her....will she accept his feel...
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Nandini sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers gripping the edge of her blanket as if that alone could keep her steady. Her heart was pounding, echoing in her chest with an ache she could hardly ignore. She stared into the dimly lit room, her mind a battlefield between her ambitions and emotions, between everything she had always told herself she wanted and the one thing she had convinced herself she didn't: Aryan.
"You are mine, Nandini. No matter how much you push me away, no matter how many times you tell me otherwise, you belong with me."
His words came rushing back, haunting her like shadows she couldn't shake. She had brushed it off as possessiveness, an overbearing declaration that had nothing to do with love. But sitting here now, feeling his absence in a way that gnawed at her, she wondered if maybe—just maybe—she had been wrong.
Her fingers clenched tighter, and she spoke to the quiet room, almost in a whisper, "What are you doing to me, Aryan? I told myself I didn't need anyone... I have a future to build, goals to achieve. I can't let myself get lost in you."
Yet, no matter how many times she repeated it, her heart argued back. The memories flooded in—the way his eyes softened when he looked at her, the way he had always known exactly when she was struggling, when she was hiding behind her stubborn independence.
"I don't care what you say, Nandini. You can deny it all you want, but I know you feel this too. This... whatever this is between us? It's real."
She took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on her, breaking through the walls she had built. Had she really been denying herself? Was she so determined to protect herself from him that she'd blinded herself to the possibility that he wasn't just being possessive—he was fighting for her, for them?
Another memory cut through her thoughts, sharp and vivid.
"You can pretend all you want, but I see it in your eyes, Nishu. Every time we fight, every time you push me away, I see it—the way you want me just as much as I want you."
Her heart skipped at the sound of his voice in her head, calling her Nishu—a name only he and a handful of others used, a name that felt both intimate and unsettling coming from him. She had always brushed off his intense gaze, his fierce determination, telling herself it was just a phase, that he'd move on. But he never had. And somewhere deep down, she'd known he never would.
She wrapped her arms around herself, letting out a shaky breath. "Why do you have this hold on me, Aryan? Why can't I just let go of you?"
And yet, every time she tried, he was there—an unyielding force, pulling her back with a gravity that left her feeling breathless, trapped, and yet strangely safe. She remembered one of their worst arguments, the moment she had seen the real depth of his emotions, the pain in his eyes.
