Tangled Beliefs

Chapter-61: The Morning After

I wasn’t looking for someone to fix me… just someone who would stay while I healed. And he did.

Nandini’s POV,

I could hear the sound of my own heartbeat. Louder. Faster. As if it were screaming for him.

Manik stood before me, that same concern painted across his face. His eyes roamed mine, questioning, hesitating, trying to read what was going on in my mind. But I didn’t need words now. Not anymore. I had kept my pain, my longing, locked inside for far too long. Tonight, I wanted to let it out with him.

I took a shaky breath, my fingers trembling slightly as I reached for the collar of his shirt. My heart was hammering, my mind was reeling, but my resolve was unshaken.

I gripped his collar tightly, pulled him toward me with all the urgency of the emotions flooding my chest, and looked him straight in the eyes.

“Kiss me, Manik,” I whispered, my voice thick with vulnerability, coated with longing.

He froze.

His eyes widened, startled by my sudden plea. I could see the flicker of confusion, the worry. “Nandini… listen to me,” he tried to say, but I cut him off with just one look.

“Please…” I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper now. “I need this. Right now. Just… don’t say anything. Just… kiss me.”

And that’s when I saw it. The shift.

His eyes softened, turning darker with something I couldn’t quite name—passion, maybe. Or need.

He didn’t speak.

Instead, his gaze dropped to my lips. I felt the air between us grow denser, tighter. He exhaled slowly, and I could feel the heat of his breath mingle with mine. My chest rose and fell rapidly as anticipation curled in the pit of my stomach.

And then…

He closed the space between us.

His lips met mine softly, tentatively, like he was testing the waters, afraid to shatter me. My breath caught in my throat the moment I felt his warmth against me. His lips were warm, tender, and gentle. He kissed me like I was a fragile doll and he didn’t want to break me. His hand moved up to cup my cheek, fingers brushing against my skin so delicately, as if I were something sacred.

My eyes fluttered shut.

I melted into him—his scent, his taste, the feel of his lips moving over mine. There was no space, no pain, no past. Just us.

Manik.

Me.

And this kiss.

I raised my arms and curled them around his neck, pulling him closer, needing more. He responded immediately, deepening the kiss just slightly, his lips molding perfectly with mine. I could feel the emotion in every movement—how he was trying to pour all his affection and his protectiveness.

My fingers wove into his hair, tugging slightly. A small sound escaped my throat—almost a whimper—and that seemed to make him pause. He pulled back slowly, breathless, his forehead resting against mine.

Our eyes met.

Time stood still.

I could barely breathe.

He looked at me like he had just touched something he never believed he could have. His lips were slightly parted, his breath ragged. My own chest was heaving, and I could feel the tears stinging my eyes, not from sadness, but from how right this all felt.