"MUJHE APNA GHAR MIL JATA H TUJHME" "He held her like she was a fragile glass sculpture in a room full of stones." "He didn't try to fix her broken pieces; he just held them until they felt whole again." "His favorite place to be isn't a city or a house-it's wherever she is, tucked right under his chin." "This is the story of how his devotion became her comfort, and how she finally accepted that she wasn't a burden, but the most beautiful blessing he ever found. Because in the end, his arms were the only home she ever needed." All rights reserved :) "This story is my original work. Copying, stealing, or reposting it without permission is disrespectful . Respect the pen, respect the writer." enjoy<3