Chapter -2
“Aaru!”
Aariv’s head jerked up at the sound of his nickname. Relief rushed through him like fresh air after drowning, and there was Yug, pushing through the last of the crowd, his face flushed and worried.
“Tum thik to ho, Aaru?” Yug grabbed his shoulders, scanning him up and down as though expecting bruises.
Aariv blinked rapidly, trying to find words. His lips parted but for a second no sound came. His mind was still tangled in the memory of that hand on his waist, that stare that had felt like it pierced through skin and bone. But he forced himself back into the moment, nodding quickly.
“Mai thik hu,” his voice was softer than usual, betraying a nervous tremor. “Tum kahaan gayab ho gaye the?”
Yug exhaled, frustrated. “Pata nahi yaar, itni bheed hai. Ek second mein tumhaara haath chhoot gaya.”
Aariv clutched his camera tighter against his chest. His heart was still restless, its rhythm uneven. But he managed a small smile, not wanting Yug to sense the storm within him. “Chalo chalte hain… kal phir se shuru karenge.”
Yug studied him for a moment, narrowing his eyes. Aariv’s face looked a shade paler, his curls damp with sweat, but his stubbornness was familiar. With a sigh, Yug nodded. “Theek hai. Waise bhi raat ho gyi hai"
The lightness in his tone made Aariv chuckle faintly. He was grateful for Yug’s presence, for the way he could ease even the heaviest air. But even as they walked away from the ghats, weaving out of the crowd, Aariv’s gaze kept flickering back searching.
But the man was gone.
....................
The hotel was quiet when they returned, a stark contrast to the thunderous life of the ghats. Their room smelled faintly of sandalwood and fresh linen. Yug collapsed on his bed the moment they entered, groaning.
“Pagal bheed thi. Mere pair dukh rahe hain.” He tossed a pillow at Aariv with a grin.
Aariv smiled faintly, setting his camera gently on the bedside table as though it carried a newborn inside. “Kal subah chalenge. Mujhe suraj ugte waqt ke shots chahiye.”
Yug groaned louder. “Bas tum aur tumhara camera. Mujhe toh neend chahiye, bhai.”
Aariv didn’t argue. He only nodded, freshened up quickly, and lay down. The bedsheets were cool, the air-conditioner humming softly. From outside the window, faint sounds of the city still linger a distant bell, a vendor’s last call, the murmur of traffic.
But for Aariv, there was only silence.
His body was exhausted, but his mind refused to rest. He closed his eyes and saw them again.
Those dark, unblinking eyes, burning into his soul as though he had been laid bare before them.
The strength of that hand around his waist, the way time itself had stopped, the crowd parting like the Red Sea at a single gesture…
Who was he?
The question echoed in his chest, heavier than the sound of his own heartbeat.
Aariv shifted restlessly, pressing his palm against his chest as though it could calm the storm there. He told himself it had been nothing just a stranger helping in a moment of need. Just chance. Just coincidence.
But deep inside, he knew. It hadn’t been nothing. It had been… something. Something dangerous.
He turned to his side, pulling the blanket over himself, stealing a glance at Yug who was already snoring lightly. The room was dark except for the faint glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains.
And in that half light, Aariv whispered to himself, almost inaudible:
"Why am I feeling like this?"
.....................
The ghats had begun to quiet. The hum of evening aarti chants had faded, leaving behind only the low lapping of water and the faint rustle of wind against the diyas that floated away like tiny stars scattered across the black river.
Veeransh sat on the cold, uneven stone steps, elbows resting lazily on his knees, but his jaw was tight, his fists clenched without reason.
His gaze wasn’t on the river, nor the sky his mind had turned inward, circling around something… someone.
Those eyes.
Dark brown, wide, and trembling like they had held an entire galaxy of fear and innocence together.
Those soft curls that had brushed against his arm when the boy had stumbled into him earlier. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding him so firmly until Aariv had pulled back, eyes lowered, breath uneven.
“Damn it…” Veeransh muttered under his breath, raking his fingers through his hair. He wasn’t supposed to remember details. Not like this. Not a boy’s frightened face, not the warmth of a body so small, so fragile, pressed against him by accident.
It was laughable. Men begged for his attention, women craved his name, enemies feared his touch. But this.... this soft creature with doe like eyes had left him unsettled.
And worse his memory was haunting Veeransh now.
Why?
Why him?
Why did he feel that strange pull, like an invisible thread had been tied to his chest the moment their eyes had met?
His world thrived on power, blood, and shadows. He was not a man who belonged to tenderness. But still… when he closed his eyes, he kept seeing that face. That fear. That innocence.
“Pathetic…” he hissed, almost angry at himself. His breath grew heavier, frustration burning through his veins. He hated not understanding himself. And right now, he didn’t.
What the hell was happening to him?
The river’s reflection flickered in his sharp eyes, but it wasn’t the water he saw it was him. That boy. That soft body colliding with his own. That quick heartbeat he’d felt for just a moment.
Something inside Veeransh shifted, deep and unfamiliar. Something he didn’t even want to name.
He leaned back against the steps, staring into nothing, but every shadow, every sound reminded him of Aariv. And with every passing second, it only made him more restless.
For the first time in years, Veeransh Rathore the man who feared nothing felt the sharp edge of uncertainty.
And it was carved in the shape of one boy’s innocence.