Ye tune kya kiya

Hug?!

The night was dark — just like my life.

A suffocating kind of darkness. Not the peaceful one people romanticize in poetry, but the kind that creeps inside your chest and tightens everything.

I wanted to scream. Loud. Wild. Unfiltered.
But being middle class, you can’t even cry properly, forget about screaming.
Because here, your tears are questioned.
Your pain is examined under a microscope of suspicion.

*"Why are you crying?"
"What happened now?"
"You always create drama."*
No one wants to understand. They just want to judge.

I glance at my phone. 3:00 AM.
My eyes burn — swollen from hours of crying, my head throbbing as if each tear I shed had knocked something loose inside.

Life is cruel. Unpredictably cruel.
It’s not always the strangers that betray you — sometimes it’s the people you grew up loving. The ones you thought would always have your back.
And that betrayal? It doesn’t just hurt — it hollows you out from the inside.

I always knew my brother didn’t like me.
But hate? I never saw that coming.

I blink at the locked door of my room.
It’s the first time it has ever been locked from outside while I’m still inside.
Not for safety. Not for privacy.
But to isolate me. As if I’m some problem to be locked away.

A bitter sigh escapes my lips. I wipe my face and reach for my phone, then unlock the window and quietly sit on the small ledge just beside it. The metal frame presses against my thighs as the warm night breeze brushes over my skin.

But it doesn't comfort me.
It carries memories — painful ones.

And one thing is certain now:
I’m not going to spare Tarun Verma.
He will pay for what he did.
And no matter what happens, I’ll never speak to him again.

My phone lights up. Dozens of messages. Calls.
Most of them are from Arshia — of course she’s worried. We never end the day without talking.
I scroll absentmindedly. But then — I freeze.

His name!!!!
On my screen.

Bccccccc!!!

**Flashback.**

I had just gotten off Yatharth’s bike.
My legs were numb. My mind… blank.
He stood silently beside me, his face screaming concern — but I couldn’t even bring myself to speak.

I didn’t want to break down in front of him.
But I knew I was close. One wrong word, one look, and I’d fall apart.

I turned away, needing distance, needing space —
But he didn’t let me go.

Yatharth gently grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.
I stumbled straight into his chest, my palms instinctively resting against the warmth of his body.

A gasp slipped past my lips — not out of fear, but surprise.
He was so close.
I could feel the rhythm of his breath, brushing against my forehead.
And it suddenly hit me how small I felt next to him.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and strong.
Muscular. Warm. Safe.
And for a second, I let myself believe I was allowed to fall apart in front of someone.

He looked into my eyes, and his gaze…
It wasn’t pity.
It was pain.
And oddly, it mirrored my own.

“I’m here for you…”
His voice was low, steady, and it broke something inside me.

“You’re not alone.”

That was all it took.
Just those four words.

My chest cracked open. The pain rushed out in sobs.
Ugly, loud, uncontrollable sobs.

Thank God we weren’t near my house.
Those nosy aunties would’ve had an entire committee meeting over it by now.

I sobbed like a child.
And just when I thought I couldn't be more vulnerable —
Yatharth did something that shattered every wall I had.

He cupped my face.
His hands — warm, slightly calloused — held me like I was something fragile.
He wiped my tears so gently…
It didn’t feel like comfort.
It felt like someone finally saw me — really saw me.

But I couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t want to.
For once, I wasn’t holding it in.

**Author’s POV**

Aarohi clung to Yatharth like a child clings to a favorite toy after a nightmare.
Her face was buried in his chest, her fingers fisting his shirt as if he were her only anchor.
She cried until the silence of the night was no longer silent.

And Yatharth… he said nothing.
He didn’t ask for explanations.
He didn’t push her away.
He just… stayed.

One hand patting her back, the other gently cradling her head.

As if he knew, sometimes words are useless.
And all someone needs… is someone who stays.

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Okok so this is unedited chapter and yes ik it's small and I'll write more in this Tommorow only .. cuz kal ppr h mera ...hehehe