His sukoon : His junoon

51

ENJOY :-)

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Time skip 

Isha stirred in her sleep, wiggling slightly before turning to her side. Her heavy eyelids fluttered open, only to flinch when her gaze landed on Rudransh. He was seated on the sofa, a laptop resting on his thighs as his fingers moved across the keyboard with practiced ease. His sharp profile was illuminated by the soft morning light streaming through the curtains, making her pause in confusion.

Her eyes darted to the clock. 8:47 AM. A gasp escaped her lips as realization hit. "I'm so late!" she murmured, trying to sit up quickly, but Rudransh's voice, calm yet commanding, cut through the room.

"Rest." He didn't even glance at her, his attention still fixed on his screen.

"But—" she stammered, her soft voice laced with guilt.

He shut his laptop with a soft click and turned his piercing gaze toward her, silencing her instantly. "You're going to rest, no arguments. Freshen up. Breakfast will be here soon."

Isha swallowed nervously, her lips parting to protest, but before she could, Rudransh was already walking toward her. She saw a comb in his hand. He crouched beside the bed, the comb gliding through her tangled hair with surprising gentleness.

"I-I am so late"

"Quiet," he murmured, his voice dipping low as he worked through her strands. "rest today"

"But, I-I am fin-"

"Shh." He leaned closer, his warm breath brushing against her ear. "Do as I say, wifey, or should I help you in a different way?"

Her breath hitched at the dark edge in his voice, her cheeks flaming at the way the word "wifey" rolled off his tongue. "I-I can manage," she stuttered, backing away from him hastily.

But in her flustered state, she lost her balance and fell back onto the bed with a soft thud. Before she could recover, Rudransh was hovering over her, one hand planted beside her head, the other still holding the comb. His eyes darkened as they roamed over her face, taking in her puffy eyes and slightly swollen cheeks from her long sleep. Her hair framed her features messily, a few strands stubbornly clinging to her skin.

"Should I help you?" he whispered, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine.

Isha's lips parted, but no words came out. She was acutely aware of how close he was—his sharp gaze boring into her, the faint scent of his cologne filling her senses. Her hands fisted the sheets beneath her, desperate for some control, she was not one to gets this flustered what is wrong with her. Whenever she is with him, he always makes her flustered.

"I-I..." she mumbled, her cheeks burning.

He didn't respond, his intense gaze drinking her in. No one in the world can see her like this. This side of her soft, vulnerable, utterly his ,was a privilege reserved for him alone. And anyone who dared to think otherwise... death.

"Mine," he thought, leaning just a fraction closer, the possessiveness in his eyes leaving her breathless. Isha Rudransh Singh Rajput is only his, and no one can take her away from him.

He leaned down and hugged her nuzzling into the crook of her neck. Isha felt his body pressed onto hers and closed her eyes. Why does he always hugs her? Whenever he is angry, frustrated, calm, felling nothing. He always hugs her.

"W-why do you always do this?" She asked after clearing her throat. Rudransh nuzzled more into her neck. "This?" He softly pecks her nape and snuggles more.