An Inconvenient Flame

Chapter 56

Hey people...

Hope you'll are doing well.

So there's a news.

I have finally graduated.

Now I'm getting admission in master's program.

Wish me luck.

Here's the new update for you'll.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

The room is quiet.
Dim. The sky is still dark. The rain has stopped, but the scent of cedarwood still lingers faintly in the room. A faint chill hangs in the air. The town sleeps, and beside me, so does she.

It's 3:00 AM.

I sit up slowly, every muscle reminding me of how little we slept... 

I glance at her, tangled in the sheets, cheek pressed into the pillow, a soft pout on her lips like she's still halfway into a dream. 

The moonlight spills across her bare shoulder, catching the faintest trace of my fingertips from last night. A bruise just beginning to form where her pulse lives.

I breathe in, long and quiet.

This woman...

A better man would probably lie back down and let her sleep. But she'd insisted. "We'll watch the sunrise from the top. Promise?"

She never asks for much. Not really. And certainly not twice.

I swing my legs off the bed and step onto the cold floor, careful not to wake her.

The air is cool against my skin as I head to the bathroom. The water's cold at first, then turns warm.

I towel off, dress simply... dark kurta, wristwatch, chain around my neck and step out.

She's still asleep, curled into the center of the bed now. One arm stretched toward where I was lying a while ago. Her breathing is soft. 

I sit on the edge of the bed and just watch her for a moment.

I touch her shoulder lightly. "Ishika."

She barely stirs. A soft sound, nothing more.

I lean down, brushing the hair away from her cheek. My hand stays there. "Tinkerbell."

My thumb grazes the corner of her lips. "Wake up."

She makes a soft, groggy sound. A whine, almost. Then turns her face toward the pillow.

I try again, palm brushing up her arm this time, slow and firm. "Ishika."

"No," comes the muffled reply. "Not now. It's still night."

I smirk.

"I told you 3 AM," I say softly, leaning closer. "You were the one romanticizing sunrises and temples, remember?"

She whimpers.

I sigh softly, then give in.

Quietly, I lift the blanket and slide back in beside her. The mattress dips with my weight, and instinctively, she turns toward me, eyes still shut, her face pressing against my chest like muscle memory.

I wrap an arm around her, pulling her in gently. Her skin is warm, a contrast to the cool air. I press my lips to her forehead and linger there.

"You'll regret it if we miss it, love." My voice is a whisper. "Just a few minutes to freshen up. Everything is ready."

She makes a soft sound neither yes nor no, just that delicate tug between exhaustion and desire. I feel her fingers curl faintly around mine.

"I know you're tired," I murmur, pressing a kiss to her hairline.