Naa bava Naa Katha

Some stories begin with love.
Mine began with fear.

Not the kind that comes from danger...
The kind that comes when your heart chooses someone it was never allowed to want.

He is my Bava. Twenty-six. Cold, composed, bound by rules and reputation.
He doesn't smile easily. He doesn't speak unless necessary.
He doesn't look at me-not really.
To him, I'm just noise.
A responsibility. A girl with messy in my pain.
I trip over words, I spill my coffee, I laugh when I'm nervous.
But when he walks into the room, my entire world stills.
He doesn't touch me. Doesn't tease. Doesn't soften.
And yet I burn for him.

I fear him the way a storm is feared-beautiful, untouchable, and capable of destroying everything I've built inside me.

He stands for control.
I live in chaos.

He builds empires.
I can barely hold my breath i he's near.

And maybe this love isn't meant to be.
But when something forbidden lives in your veins long enough... it stops feeling wrong.
It just becomes yours.

This is not his love story. Not yet.
It's mine. And it begins with silence, longing... and a girl who dared to love a man who never looked her way.