Forbidden Mania | 18+

10.

♡Please Vote First & Comment Later♡
_______________________________________

𝒜𝓇𝓈𝒽'𝓈 𝒫𝑜𝓋~

I stepped out of my car, my gaze traveling up the towering gates of Raghav’s mansion. The place felt different tonight, almost haunting under the dim lights scattered across the vast property. The mansion had always seemed like a fortress, grand but distant, mirroring the mysterious persona of my older brother.

I had always admired the place but tonight, I'm  feeling a strange weight as I walked up to the door, my footsteps echoing in the stillness.

Inside, the mansion was just as grand, filled with pieces of fine art and dark wood furniture, but it somehow seemed empty. The dim lighting cast long shadows that only deepened the eerie feeling settling in my gut. It was quiet, almost too quiet, like the place was holding its breath.

"Raghav?" I called out, my voice cutting through the silence. No response. I made my way through the hallways, passing closed doors and rooms I hadn't seen in years. Eventually, I spotted a dim light seeping out from under a door at the far end of the hall. I walked toward it, my heart picking up it's pace.

I pushed open the door and froze. Raghav was there, seated on the floor in front of an easel, his face pale and bruised, with dried blood at the corner of his mouth and a bandage haphazardly wrapped around his arm. His eyes looked feverish, almost manic, and he was completely focused on the canvas in front of him.

"Raghav!" Arsh stepped forward, horrified by my brother's state. "What the hell happened to you?"

I felt a sharp pang of disbelief. I took out my phone and called the doctor to come here immediately, even the conversation with the doctor didn't interest him.

"Raghav?" I called him again.

He didn't answer immediately. His gaze was locked on the portrait he was painting. It was a woman, with soft, captivating features, her eyes downcast and her expression almost dreamlike. For a second I thought it's Mishka, even I've not seen the face, but...no I'm thinking too much. The details were mesmerizing, every stroke filled with a strange reverence and intensity.

"Raghav, who… who is she?" I narrowed my eyes.

Finally, Raghav looked up, a faint, almost unsettling smile on his lips.

"She's… everything." He whispered, his voice shaky. "I saw her once. Just once… but that was enough."

I blinked, trying to process his words. "You don't know her?"

Raghav shook his head slowly, his gaze drifting back to the painting.

"I don’t know her name. I don't know where she came from. But when I saw her, Arsh… I knew." His hand went to the bandage on his arm, fingers tracing it like it was some sort of precious keepsake.

"This…" He gestured to his injury. "It's a memory from our first meeting. A piece of her, etched into me. I want to keep it… I want to remember the pain because it reminds me of her."

I was stunned. Raghav, my normally composed, calculating brother, looked almost… unhinged. This wasn't the man Id known, the man who shrugged off romance like it was nothing more than a passing phase.

"Raghav, you need to see a doctor. You can't just let yourself stay like this-"

Raghav shook his head violently.

"No, Arsh. This wound… it's mine to keep. It's a reminder, an imprint of that moment. And I won't let anyone take it from me." His eyes were wild, defiant, and the conviction in his voice left me speechless.