UNWILLINGLY HIS

Bound in Freedom

Samaira rushes down the stairs, her bag slung hastily over her shoulder, her damp hair clinging to the back of her shirt. She’s muttering under her breath about being late when Advait’s voice cuts through her thoughts.

“Samaira,” he calls out casually, leaning against the dining table with a glass of orange juice in his hand, “you haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“I don’t have time,” she replies curtly, her pace quickening as she makes her way toward the door. “I’m already late.”

“For the hospital?” he asks, his tone carrying that unnerving calm she had come to loathe.

She nods sharply, not bothering to turn around or spare him a glance.

“Well,” he continues, “no need to rush.”

His words stop her dead in her tracks. Slowly, she turns to face him, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?” she asks, her voice cautious, already suspecting something she won’t like.

“I’ve already taken leave for you,” Advait announces, his smirk growing as he sets the glass down and crosses his arms.

Samaira blinks at him, stunned. “You… what?”

“You’ve been overworking yourself,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact. “Your body is clearly screaming for rest. So, I handled it. You’re officially on leave for a few days.”

Her mouth falls open slightly, her mind racing with questions. “How did you—” she pauses, her voice rising, “—how did you manage to get my leave approved? I’ve only just joined. It’s impossible to get leave so early.”

Advait’s lips curl into a knowing smirk. “Let’s just say it was an easy task.”

She narrows her eyes at him, crossing her arms as her thoughts spiral. Easy task? Oh, I’m sure it was. He or his goons must have marched into the hospital, guns blazing, and threatened everyone into submission.

“Stop overthinking,” Advait interrupts, reading her expression like a book. “Now, sit down and have your breakfast.”

She exhales sharply, glaring at him but knowing there’s no winning against his persistence. With a defeated sigh, she drops her bag onto the couch and reluctantly makes her way to the dining table.

The tension is palpable as she takes her seat, every movement stiff with irritation. Advait watches her with an amused expression as she picks up her fork and begins poking at her food.

After a few moments of silence, she can’t hold back anymore. “So, what am I supposed to do now?” she asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Stay caged in this house, twiddling my thumbs until you decide otherwise?”

Advait doesn’t flinch at her words. Instead, he leans back in his chair, his gaze steady and annoyingly calm. “It’s your holiday. Do whatever you like. Watch a movie. Visit that space museum you used to love so much. Relax for once in your life.”

Samaira’s fork clatters against her plate as she sets it down, staring at him incredulously. “Are you seriously suggesting that I step out of this cage?”

He tilts his head slightly, his tone almost playful. “You’re a free soul, Samaira. You can do whatever you want.”

Her eyes widen slightly at his words, hope flickering for a brief second—until he continues.

“Except,” he adds, his tone sharpening, “devising and trying to implement plans to escape me. Because, let’s be honest—” he leans forward, his dark eyes locking onto hers, “—that’s not possible. At least, not in this life.”