𝐀𝐧𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚 : 𝐸𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠

~🥀 First Night 🥀~

💗

The door shut behind her with a soft thud. The sound of music, laughter, ghungroos it all vanished like someone had flipped a switch. The silence in the room felt heavy, like it had been waiting for her.

She didn't even realize when her feet carried her to the mirror. Still dressed in her Ghoomar outfit, still breathing like she hadn't danced minutes ago. Her fingers reached up, removing her earrings slowly, and then... they stopped. Her eyes had lifted. The mirror showed her reflection, but all she could see was him.

The way he looked at her. The way her body had landed in his arms like it knew it belonged there.

That thought alone made her stomach twist.

Why didn't she flinch? Why didn't she push him away?

She should've been furious. She was furious. And yet there was this strange heat rising in her chest,some types of sensations. Not anger. Not fear. Just... something that refused to be named. Her body hadn't backed away. It had leaned in. Her heart hadn't pounded out of panic. It had fluttered. As if something in her... recognized him.

She sank onto the bed without thinking, pulling her knees close. Her breath came in short, shallow bursts. "Ye sab kya ho raha hai hamare saath?" she whispered to the stillness. Her own voice cracked.

She touched her cheek it was warm. Her lips still dry from the breath she forgot to take in his arms. She hated how clearly her body remembered that moment.

She wanted to say it was just shock. Just nerves. Just the madness of the day.

But deep down... she knew it wasn't.

It was him.

And the most terrifying part? A tiny piece of her wasn't entirely sure if she wanted to forget.

________

The night was still.
But inside him nothing was.

Anubhav leaned against the cool marble pillar at the edge of the corridor, eyes fixed on the courtyard below but seeing nothing. The wind brushed past his damp skin. His wet hair stuck to his forehead, but he didn't care. His royal black kurta hung open at the collar, half-buttoned in haste, clinging slightly to his chest.

He had taken a cold shower.
He'd hoped it would help.
It didn't.

He was never the man who waited. Never the man who paused.
Patience was the hardest task for him if it was about her.
She was in the room just across the hall.
Close. But miles away.

The moment her body collided with him... his world stopped.
Her nearness wasn't just physical it was soul-deep. For a man who had only known power, silence, and cold walls, she felt like warmth.
She felt like Home.

A Home that was never meant to be his.
A Home no one ever built for him.
No one ever tried except her.
There was something about her presence... it stilled him. The chaos in his chest, the noise in his mind it all quieted. And the second her skin met his, that calmness slipped into his veins like a drug.

His addiction only deepened.

He always knew she was his but he never knew what that would feel like... until now.
And now, it hurt.
He felt his dead heart ache for her for the first time, really ache.

Because when he touched her really touched her it didn't feel like power.
It felt like peace.

And she didn't pull back.

That was the part that made it worse.

Her body had leaned into him.
Her eyes hadn't screamed fear.
They had... lingered.
Like she felt comfortable.
Like she felt something.
She didn't even realise what her body was telling him.