SAFER
I patted little Sinclair gently as she curled into a small, warm ball on my lap, her tiny body rising and falling with slow breaths like she didn’t have a single worry in this world.
“She got very well with you,” he said, standing there as he rubbed the towel through his damp hair, messing it up even more than usual.
I just hummed softly, my fingers absentmindedly tracing over her fur as I watched her.
“You’re going to miss your mom,” I murmured to the kitten, a faint smile playing on my lips, “because she is going to leave very soon.”
She blinked at me slowly, like she understood nothing—
or maybe everything.
I didn’t notice when he stopped what he was doing.
But I felt it.
That sudden stillness.
“You’re not taking her with you while leaving the house?” he asked, his voice sharper than before as I looked up at him.
He was staring at me now.
His damp hair falling messily over his forehead, his glasses missing for once, making him look… different.
Softer.
Younger.
Dangerously attractive enough to look at.
I looked away immediately.
“No,” I said.
“I’m not taking her with me.”
“Why?” he asked.
Simple question.
Heavy answer.
“When I’m not there to annoy you…” I said, a small smirk tugging at my lips, “she’ll do it.”
“Wow,” he muttered, turning his face away, clearly unimpressed.
I smiled faintly and looked back down at the kitten, adjusting her slightly in my lap.
“Be a good girl with your dad,” I whispered to her softly.
“I am not her dad,” he snapped instantly.
I looked up at him again, raising an eyebrow.
“She stays here. Eats your food. Sleeps in your house. Follows you around,” I said casually. “Sounds like parenting to me.”
He let out a quiet scoff, running the towel through his hair again like he needed something to do with his hands.
“Don’t assign responsibilities and leave,” he said.
“You’ll take care of her,” I said softly.
“Be a responsible dad,” I said lightly, but the words didn’t feel light at all as they left me. “Don’t be like my father.”
The moment I said it, something in my chest tightened—sharp, sudden, like I had pressed against a wound I usually kept hidden.
He turned toward me immediately and walked closer before sitting down on the floor right in front of me, his movements slower this time, careful… like he didn’t want to startle me.
“What happened to your parents?” he asked.
His voice wasn’t harsh.
It wasn’t curious in a careless way.
“I know they’re dead,” he added quietly. “But how… what happened?”
I looked away instantly.
My throat tightened.
My breathing lost its rhythm.
My fingers trembled against the kitten’s soft fur, my grip loosening without me realizing it.
I didn’t want to say it.
I never wanted to say it out loud.
“My mom…” I started, my voice coming out weaker than I expected.
I swallowed hard.
“…committed suicide.”
Images I had buried deep started clawing their way back—
Fragments.
Voices.
Silence that screamed louder than anything else.
My hands shook more now, and I pressed them together, trying to stop it.
But it didn’t stop.
It never did when I remembered.
“Your dad?” he asked.
The question didn’t feel like a question.
It felt like something pulling me back—
Back into a place I had locked away, buried so deep that even I refused to look at it.
My mind went blank.
Completely blank.
But my body didn’t forget.
My heart started thudding loudly against my chest—too fast, too hard—like it was trying to escape.
My breathing turned uneven, shallow, every inhale feeling like it wasn’t enough.
I could feel the sweat forming on my forehead, cold and sudden, my fingers tightening unconsciously around my dress.
I could feel that colonge of my father still clinging to my body.
Like he was standing right behind me.
Like he was leaning in again.
My stomach twisted violently as my body reacted before my mind could even process anything.
I shook my head slightly, my vision blurring at the edges.
Everything came rushing back.
And I wasn’t ready to face it.
I could feel it my father's fingers crawling over my skin.
My breath hitched violently as black dots started clouding my vision, spreading slowly until everything around me began to blur and distort.
I tried to shake it off.
Tried to pull myself back.
But I couldn’t.
“Viyana—”
I heard Adithya's voice somewhere in the background.
Distant and muffled.
Like it was coming from another world entirely.
My body refused to move.
Every muscle got paralysed.
I couldn’t lift my hand.
Couldn’t turn my head.
Couldn’t even breathe properly.
I couldn’t reach Adithya.
I opened my eyes again, forcing them to focus.
And that’s when I saw it.
A dark figure standing near him.
Dark.
Blurry.
But familiar in the worst way possible.
That silhouette looked exactly like him.
Like my father.
My throat closed instantly, panic crashing into me like a wave I couldn’t fight.
I wanted to call out.
Wanted to scream his name—
But nothing came out.
It felt like something was gripping my throat, squeezing the air out of me, leaving me gasping silently.
My hands trembled violently as I pressed them against my ears, shutting my eyes tightly as if that could make it disappear.
“Vihaan—”
His name broke out of me weakly, barely a sound, more like a desperate whisper.
“VIHAAN!”
The name tore out of me before I could stop it, raw and loud, echoing through the room as if my throat was ripping open with it.
“Vihaan!”
Again.
And again.
I kept shouting until my voice started to burn, until every breath scraped against my chest like broken glass, until tears blurred everything in front of me.
Nothing made sense anymore.
Not this room.
Not this moment.
Because my mind had already dragged me back—
Back to that night.
The night I never escaped.
“Vihaan!” I cried out again, my voice breaking completely now, desperation choking every word.
I could hear another voice somewhere.
Distant.
Calling my name.
“Viyana calm down I am calling Vihaan”
But it didn’t reach me.
It couldn’t reach me.
Because I wasn’t here anymore.
I was there in his room.
Standing in that same place.
My hands shaking as I tried to push my father away—
Tried to get him off me—
But when I pulled him off to the floor he didn't move.
My breath hitched violently as the memory crashed over me in fragments.
The smell.
The silence.
The way my heart had pounded so loudly I thought it would burst.
I had stared at him on the floor—
Lifeless.
Not moving.
Not breathing.
And I didn’t understand.
I didn’t understand what had just happened.
I didn’t understand why everything had gone so quiet all of a sudden.
My hands had trembled as I shook him.
“Vihaan—!”
That was when I had screamed his name.
Over and over again.
The same way I was screaming now.
The same panic.
The same helplessness.
That night hadn’t ended.
It was still here.
Still inside me.
I squeezed my eyes shut so tightly it hurt, my whole body curling into itself on the cold floor as if making myself smaller could somehow make it all disappear.
Because every time I opened my eyes—
He was there.
That same figure.
That same presence.
Watching.
Too close.
I kept screaming for my brother, my voice cracking, breaking, but I didn’t stop.
I couldn’t stop.
I don’t even know how long I stayed like that—
Seconds… minutes…
Or something that felt like forever.
Every moment stretched painfully, each second dragging like I was being pulled through something I couldn’t escape.
It felt like dying.
Until—
“Vivi…”
The voice cut through everything.
Soft.
Familiar.
Real.
My breath hitched as my eyes flew open instantly.
And there he was.
Walking toward me in hurried steps.
Vihaan.
I lunged forward and clung to him the moment he reached me, my fingers gripping onto him desperately as he dropped to his knees in front of me.
“Vihaan—” my voice trembled violently as I buried myself against him. “He came again… he touched me again… he’s still here…”
My words came out rushed, broken, barely making sense even to me.
“He’s standing there… Vihaan, make him go away… please… see… he’s still there…”
I pointed my finger toward the corner of the room, my eyes wide as I forced myself to look—
The dark figure still stood there.
Unmoving.
Watching.
My body trembled uncontrollably as I clutched onto him tighter, my nails digging into his shirt like he was the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely.
“Vivi… do you remember the day you spilled tea on my science homework notebook?” he suddenly said.
The question hit me out of nowhere.
My grip on him didn’t loosen.
My body was still trembling.
My breath still uneven.
“Your chemistry assignment?” I asked weakly.
“Yes… you remember,” he said softly, his hand moving gently over my back, steady… patient.
I buried my face deeper into his shoulder, my eyes squeezing shut again—
Because I was still afraid.
Afraid that if I opened them—
That figure would still be there.
Waiting.
Watching.
“I got so angry at you that day,” he continued, his voice calm.
“We ended up in a big fight… and I hit you a little too hard… and you started crying immediately and ran to complain to grandpa.”
A faint memory flickered through my mind.
“You pulled my hair…” I muttered against his shoulder, my grip on him tightening slightly.
He let out a quiet breath.
“I’m sorry for that,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of guilt even now.
“But my science ma’am made me stand outside the whole day,” he added, a faint amusement slipping into his tone.
A small, almost invisible smile touched my lips despite everything.
“And then…” he continued, “you came to me with a white paper… scribbled ‘I am sorry’ in all those colourful crayons… like it was some big artwork.”
My fingers curled slightly into his shirt.
“I even drew a crying face,” I whispered, the memory becoming clearer now.
“You did,” he said softly. “And you refused to leave until I forgave you.”
“I even used a green crayon,” I whispered, my voice still uneven but softer now, the memory settling more clearly in my mind, “because you like that colour.”
He let out a quiet chuckle, the sound warm against my ear.
“I remember,” he said. “The moment I saw that… I couldn’t even stay angry. I just smiled and forgave you like an idiot.”
I held onto him, still clinging, still not ready to let go, but the panic that had wrapped itself around my chest began to loosen, bit by bit.
The darkness in my head faded slowly, replaced by something gentler.
Safer.
My fingers relaxed slightly against his shirt, though I didn’t move away.
Didn’t want to.
Because right now—
He felt real.
More real than anything else.