Kanika’s breathing was slow and shallow—aftermath of the earlier crying episode. Her face was buried in the pillow, strands of her hair falling across it, concealing the signs of her heartbreak.
.Anakveer’s POV:.
After making me restless like hell, you're sleeping this peacefully? Not fair, Ani.
He sat beside her on the bed, his eyes glued to her face hidden beneath the disheveled curtain of hair. With a disturbing kind of slowness—almost psychotic—he reached out, brushing away one strand after another, gaze never leaving her.
Kanika was lost in her dreamland. But not for long. She felt the weight on the bed shift beside her—the unmistakable dip of someone settling in. And then... a hand. On her face.
At first, she convinced herself—it’s just a dream. A lucid one, maybe.
But the warmth... the weight of that touch... too real.
Panic set in.
Her heart pounded erratically, body freezing in horror before springing into alertness. With a jolt, she sat up, sleep vanishing in a snap, eyes flying open in full terror. A scream ripped from her throat—only to be muffled under a large, rough palm.
.“Kanika! It’s me. Now stop screaming.” Anakveer’s voice was low, almost threatening.
Recognizing the familiar voice, and catching the outline of his face in the soft moonlight seeping in through the window, her eyes softened—but her breathing was still erratic, as if her lungs refused to believe she was safe.
But what she didn’t realize... was that the sight she presented now—hair messy, chest heaving with sharp breaths, the hint of exposed cleavage from her disoriented sleeping posture—was stirring something in Anakveer. Something dark. Something he didn’t yet understand himself.
He immediately turned his face away, jaw clenching—but his palm remained firm over her mouth. His eyes, now sharp and stormy, darted toward her phone on the bedside table.
And then… a flicker of something unhinged passed through his gaze.
Without a word, he snatched the phone and turned back to her, his eyes locking onto hers with a piercing intensity that could slice through bone.
.“Why is your phone switched off?”
The words weren’t loud, but they came out like a low growl—coiled, furious, feral.
.“And what made you think you can shut me out?”.
His voice cracked slightly—not with weakness, but with a rage too raw to stay contained. There was nothing sane about the way he spoke.
Only then did he remove his hand from her mouth.
But not to back off.
His hand simply slid down—gliding to her shoulder, gripping it firmly. Not to hurt her, but to anchor her in place. To keep her from slipping away.
Kanika’s eyes were vacant. Her mind even more so.
She had cried herself to sleep, only to wake up to the haunting presence of a man beside her—*inside* her room. A man who entered through the window.
.Anakveer..
Her brain refused to cooperate—it wasn’t "braining" anymore. Blank. Silent.
But that very silence—the absence of her voice—only pushed him closer to the edge.
His teeth clenched. A muscle popped near his jaw.
Without thinking, his other hand rose, and with two fingers he pinched her chin—firm, but not rough—forcing her to look into his eyes.
.“…Speak, baccha. Before I lose my damn mind.”.
But instead of speaking—
She moved.
Kanika threw herself into his arms—so suddenly, so forcefully—that her chest collided into his with a soft, gasping *thud*. She clung to him like he was the only piece of land in the middle of a drowning ocean.
For a moment, Anakveer froze.
Because *this*—this wasn’t normal.
Not between them.
Despite their soul-deep connection, physical touch had always been minimal. Kanika didn’t hug him randomly, never lounged in his lap, never even lay beside him casually.
This was only the second time she had ever embraced him.
The first? The night she got her first period. She had been confused, emotional, raw. Vulnerable.
Just like now.
And in that moment, he understood.
She wasn’t okay.
Not even close.
And this time… she wasn’t hiding it.
---
.Anakveer’s POV:.
My anger was pliable—alive, breathing, radiating off me like heat from embers.
All because of her silence. Her ignorance. Her audacity to shut me out.
Today, I was determined. Determined to make her understand—there is *no way out* from me. She’s stuck. With me.
Even if she’s angry. Even if she hates me.
She has no choice but to stay around—*she made me like this*.
She’s the one who crept into my veins, invaded my personal space, made herself a habit.
Now she’ll face the consequences.
I wasn’t going to be the understanding, composed version of myself today. No more. The moment my beast took over, I grabbed her chin, made her look into my eyes—anchoring her with one hand on her shoulder.
And just when I was on the verge of exploding—
She… collapsed into me.
Threw herself into my arms.
Melted. Completely. Seeking warmth. Comfort. Safety.
And in that moment—*I felt it*.
Every unspoken ache of her body seeping into mine. Her silence screaming in a language only I could hear.
I didn’t hug her back. I wasn’t used to it.
But she didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Just held onto me like my touch was oxygen.
After a moment, I bent forward—still holding her—to flick on the light switch.
The room glowed dimly, and I slowly, gently, detached from her.
Both hands moved up to her face. This time, I tucked her hair behind her ears *softly*. Not with the earlier madness. With care.
And then—*I saw her*.
Devastated.
Swollen eyes. Puffy cheeks. A face so dull, it looked like it had forgotten what light ever felt like.
She looked like a broken doll.
My gut twisted violently.
A quiet, unfamiliar emotion curling deep in my chest.
*Please don’t tell me I’m the reason.*
My breath hitched. I tried to say something. Anything.
Only one word made it past my lips—barely a whisper.
.“Why?”.
Her lashes lowered. Shamefully. Avoiding me.
She didn’t want me to see her like this.
She always acts rough, tough. Never the damsel in distress.
But today—
I found her with her guards down. And it broke something inside me.
---
.Kanika’s POV:.
*F*ck!. I hugged him.
How could I?
I was *angry* with him. He’s no better than my family.
It’s always the same—people show their true selves when the time and situation squeeze them. And he did.
I know why I did it. Because of what happened earlier, all I wanted was…
Warmth.
To feel wanted. Loved. Held.
My head’s pounding, and every nerve in my body is craving gentle hands, a soft voice, someone to hold me like I matter.
And Anakveer... he always shows up like some damn savior.
He showed up again.
And before my brain could process, my body—my *muscle memory*—just... reached for him. To seek comfort.
But no.
He doesn't *deserve* to be my safe space. Not anymore.
I wanted to sound strong. Cold. Confident.
I wanted to say *I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.*
But instead, my voice came out broken. Stuttering.
.“What are you doing here?”.
Then, after a pause—
.“We’re over, Mr. Anakveer Rajput. And for the record, it’s not decent for a man to barge into a girl’s room—especially at midnight.”.
.Author’s POV:.
And that—
That was enough to snap the devil back into motion.
In one swift, feral moment, Anakveer pressed Kanika down onto the bed, his body hovering over hers. One hand cupped her face—not with tenderness, but with an eerie, obsessive possessiveness. His eyes, wild and gleaming, bore into hers as he spoke with a psychotic calmness—
Ani, I understand something is wrong with you. Maybe it’s because of me. But you’re forbidden—samjhi? .Forbidden from ever saying that our friendship is over..
You don’t get to walk away after making me *addicted* to you.”
His voice dropped lower, but the rage underneath pulsed louder than ever.
.“Aapko andaza bhi hai?.
Meri subah aapke *good morning* se hoti hai…
Aur meri raat… aapke *good night* se.”
He exhaled sharply, jaw clenched.
.“Pichle do din se soya nahi hoon.. Tumhari wajah se.
Kyuki tumne mujhe block kar diya.
Aur rahi baat *decent man* ki…
His lips curled into something between a sneer and a smirk—
.“Kab kaha maine ki main hoon?”.
Kanika’s eyes widened.
Her breath faltered.
This close—this *unhinged*—this version of him she had only sensed in fragments before… now stood in full form above her. She couldn’t even hold his gaze.
For the first time since knowing him…
She felt fear. Cold, trembling fear.
She had always known Anakveer was the kind of man people warned about—the kind you *don’t get too close to*.
But tonight… she understood *why*.
His eyes darkened as they traveled down—briefly catching on the neckline of her suit, the deep cut unintentionally revealing more of her chest than modesty permitted, especially in her current twisted position beneath him.
He swallowed hard.
And then—he let go.
Kanika, completely unaware of how disheveled she looked, sat up sharply—rage overtaking the tremble. She shoved him back with full force, furious.
His controlling behavior had struck her trigger point.
*She could never tolerate being handled or controlled.*
She stood, shaking, pointed a trembling finger right into his chest.
A single, hot tear streaked down her left cheek—born not just of anger, but a deeper, aching vulnerability.
.“Why don’t you want to end this so-called friendship, huh?”. she snapped.
.“Oh right, because who else will you boss around? Who else will you manhandle whenever your moods swing? Who else will you dump your frustrations on?”.
Her voice cracked, but the fire inside her only blazed harder.
.“Because I’m just an *outsider*, right? The one who has no right to question your damn *family drama*?”.
Then, after a pause, her tone hardened into something cold. Unapologetic.
.“And one more thing,”. she added, venom lacing her words.
Her jaw tightened as she looked him straight in the eye.
.“Why is it always me who gets hurt?
Maybe I can hurt too.”.
.“I don’t give a damn about your precious cousin—whether you have feelings for her or she does for you. None of it matters to me anymore.”.
The second those words left her mouth, his expression shifted.
Anakveer stared at her—offended, and somewhere beneath that… hurt.
.“Aapko main aisa lagta hoon, Ani?”. he said quietly.
.“Ki main… apne blood ke liye kuch *waisa* soch sakta hoon?”.
A bitter smile spread across his lips, one that didn't reach his eyes.
.“But don’t worry…”. he said, tone dipping into condescension masked as softness,
.“…I understand. You’re hurt. That’s why you’re saying all this.”.
And then, softly, mockingly—
.“Aur mujhe bura nahi laga… kyunki aap sach mein *bacchi* ho.”.
With that, he scooted comfortably on the bed, making himself at ease.
“However,” he said, “aaj hamari saari misunderstandings aur communication gap ko door karna zaroori hai. Because I can’t keep enduring this distance again and again…”
He exhaled deeply. “And I’m always up to fix what I haven't broken in you. But this time… I *am* the one who did. So let’s start from the beginning.”
He looked into her eyes with a mischievous smirk.
“You say I boss you around… hmm, really? From the food I eat to the clothes in my wardrobe—everything is of *your* choice.”
Kanika tried to breathe and act normal, but she knew deep down—he wasn’t lying.
He continued, “And the part where you said I 'manhandled' you… I just grabbed your wrist and dragged you with me. That too—only to drop you home.”
Then, folding his shirt sleeve, he revealed his forearm—faint purplish-blue bite marks still visible.
He gestured toward them. “Aapko jab bhi period pain zyada hota hai to aap daant kaat'ti hain… ye nishani gawah hai aapki *gentleness* ki. Aap kehti hain main apna frustration aap pe nikaalta hoon, par jab aap apne UP wale andaaz mein Bihari gali deti hain gusse mein… zara batayiye, kitni mithaas hoti hai usmein?”
Kanika looked anywhere but at him, gulping down the weight of her own past actions.
Then, he pulled up the seriousness in his tone, eyes sharp as he demanded her gaze.
“Ani, idhar dekhiye…”
His voice lowered, more fragile, almost unrecognizable.
“There’s a reason I don’t allow my father’s side of the family around me. Why I’ve never talked about them… because some stories of the past bring pain with them too. And I don’t want those wounds to reopen. They might infect my present… and my future. But if you want, I’m willing to undo every single chapter of my life—*before you.*”
This time, Kanika looked straight into his eyes. The strong, unapologetic Anakveer was nowhere to be seen. This was a different man—*vulnerable*.
She shook her head—*no*. Indicating she didn’t want him to dig into the wounds he had so carefully buried.
She met his yearning eyes with her own broken ones and said softly, “Anak, I’m forgiving you this time. I know I’m not a saint either—I always snap at you. But you know my equation with my family… and my insecurities. If you ever cross that trigger point… and break me beyond repair… then even all these efforts of yours—won’t be enough to fix me.”
Anak nodded in understanding. Behind her tears, he could finally see—he wasn't the only one at fault.
So he asked, gently, “Be honest, Ani… am I the *only* reason behind your state?”
Kanika only shook her head—*no*. Her gaze stayed down, silently pleading not to stretch the topic further.
Suddenly, Kanika clutched her head as it throbbed and spun from all the chaos.
Anak immediately rushed to her, cupping her face and running his hand carefully over her scalp.
"Have you had anything…?"
She gave him a faint, guilty shake of her head—*no*.
That small gesture was enough to infuriate him. “Since when haven’t you eaten?” he asked, already suspecting the answer. He knew her too well—whenever she got upset with her family, she’d punish herself by skipping meals.
At first, she stayed silent. But then, he said something that made her heart stop—
"Okay then… I’m going to ask them myself."
Her eyes widened in panic. “Since last night…” she meeked out.
That was all it took to push him over the edge.
“Are you stupid, Ani? Don’t you *know* you have migraine? And it gets worse when you don’t eat! Why the *hell* would you take your health so lightly?”
Kanika made a face in annoyance, but even she couldn’t deny his concern was valid.
Without another word, Anak made her rest against the headboard and walked out to her balcony. Moments later, he returned with a bag in hand and handed it to her.
She frowned, confused about where it had come from.
He casually settled back beside her on the bed, opening a few parcel-packed food boxes. “I already knew you'd end up taking your frustration out by skipping your meals,” he said plainly. “So, whatever I found on the way to your house—at midnight, mind you—I picked it up for you. Just deal with it.”
She opened the boxes, and a content smile spread across her face at his thoughtfulness. To her surprise, she found stir-fried noodles, Manchurian, and steamed momos—*all* her favorites. He had called them random, but every item was handpicked with care.
Each dish had two servings.
And suddenly, something clicked in her mind. She looked up sharply. “Anak… you haven’t eaten either, have you?”
He casually nodded, already shoving a spoonful of noodles into his mouth.
“And if I’m not wrong,” she added, her tone more serious now, “then you also haven’t eaten anything since *last night*.”
He simply shrugged his shoulders, clearly not wanting her to feel bad.
Then, pulling out a red bottle from the paper bag, he said, “And here’s your *chapri* drink. I bought it today, but that doesn’t mean I’m *allowing* you to keep drinking this stupid stuff. Just today is an exception.”
Kanika’s eyes lit up with excitement. She snatched the drink, gulping it down in one long swig, moaning in delight.
“This is *heaven*! Thank you, Anak!”
But then she paused, frowning in mock offense. “Wait—did you just call this a *chapri* drink? It’s an *energy drink*! Look here, it has *vitamins*—read the label!”
He mumbled under his breath, “Yeah, and you possess all the qualities to defend this drink.”
They both laughed lightly and continued eating, finishing their meal. By then, it was already past 2 a.m.
“I guess I should leave now,” Anak muttered, beginning to rise.
Kanika panicked. “What if someone sees you in the house?!”
He smirked, “Who said I’m leaving through the main door? I’ll go through the window—don’t worry.”
“Anak, that’s even more dangerous! You’re practically the *hukum sa* of this place. If someone sees you like this… do you even realize what it could do to your image?”
He scoffed, standing at the window. “If you’ve forgiven
me, then it’s worth it. And besides—my image was never that white-washed anyway.”
With that, he tied a hanky around his face like a thief and climbed over the balcony railing. But just before jumping, he turned one last time and said—
“You stay inside. No need to come to the balcony. Because your image still matters.”
And with that, he vanished into the night.
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