HOPE
“Stop pampering me,” I complained, my voice carrying a soft irritation that didn’t quite hide the strange comfort settling inside me, as Adithya stood behind me, gently combing my hair into a ponytail.
He didn’t reply, not even with his usual sarcastic remark, and instead turned my face slightly toward him, his fingers brushing past my cheek as he fixed a strand that refused to stay in place, his expression calm.
The door opened.
Vihaan stepped inside, his presence alone enough to pull both of us out of that quiet moment.
Adithya’s hands stilled behind me, and when I turned my head slightly, I saw his expression change, his jaw tightening almost unconsciously as his eyes lifted and locked onto Vihaan.
Vihaan stood near the door, his posture straight and composed, but the rage in his face was undeniable, his gaze equally fixed on Adithya, carrying a silent challenge that needed no words.
Neither of them spoke.
Not even a simple acknowledgment of the other’s presence.
They just stood there, looking at each other with a stillness.
“What the fuck is wrong with both of you?” I asked, rolling my eyes as I pushed myself up from the bed despite the slight heaviness still lingering in my body, because the way they were glaring at each other like sworn enemies instead of two grown men was starting to irritate me.
Without waiting for either of them to respond, I reached out and grabbed Adithya’s arm, pulling him slightly closer to me as I looked between the two of them with an exaggerated grin.
“Be a good brother-in-law,” I said, my tone deliberately light, almost teasing.
Both of them groaned almost at the same time, their reactions so synchronized that it would have been funny under any other circumstances, and they turned their faces away from each other immediately, like even the idea of sharing the same space willingly was unbearable.
“Let’s go,” Adithya said, his voice low but firm as he extended his hand toward me without hesitation.
My breath hitched slightly at that simple gesture, something about it felt far more intimate than it should have been, and a small, uncontrollable smile tugged at my lips as I looked at his hand for a second before slowly placing mine into it.
“Go where?” Vihaan cut in, his voice sharp, already anticipating what was coming.
“Please don’t start your tantrums again,” I said, turning toward him with a tired sigh, because I didn’t have the energy for another argument.
“Who is throwing tantrums?” he shot back immediately, clearly offended. “I’m just asking you to stay in our house for one or two weeks. I’ll hire a nurse who will be with you twenty-four seven.”
“I am a nurse myself,” Adithya interrupted, his tone calm but carrying an edge that made it clear he wasn’t backing down this time, his fingers tightening slightly around mine. “And I can stay with her all day.”
Adithya didn’t wait for another word to be said as he turned and started walking, his grip on my hand firm as he pulled me along with him.
“At least come in the car, I’ll drop you,” Vihaan’s voice came from behind us.
Adithya stopped and looked at me.
“No… I’m fine with your bike,” I said softly.
Something in his expression shifted instantly, the tension easing just a little as a faint smile appeared on his face.
“Wait a second,” I said, slipping my hand out of his before he could react.
I turned and walked back toward Vihaan, who was still standing there, watching us with that same unreadable expression he always carried.
I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly.
“Bye,” I muttered softly before pulling away.
His hand came up to pat my head gently, the gesture so familiar, so protective.
“Take care,” he said, his voice softer now, the anger gone, replaced by something much quieter. “And come for regular checkups.”
I nodded, giving him a small smile, as I turned back and walked toward Adithya.
We walked out of the hospital slowly, and before I could say anything, Adithya reached for the helmet he had brought, placing it gently over my head, his movements careful and unhurried as he leaned down to adjust the straps properly beneath my chin, his fingers brushing lightly against my skin in a way that made my breath pause for just a second.
We both got onto the bike, settling into a silence that didn’t feel uncomfortable anymore, but rather… full, like there were too many things said between us already, leaving no space for unnecessary words.
The engine started, and the bike moved forward, the wind rushing past us, carrying away the heaviness of the hospital, but not the emotions we had left behind inside that room.
Because we weren’t the same as we were when we walked in.
Something had shifted.
Something had been said.
Confessions that neither of us had planned, feelings that neither of us had intended to acknowledge so soon, yet somehow, in that suffocating space between fear and loss, everything had come out without permission.
And now, as I sat behind him, holding onto him, feeling the steady rhythm of his presence grounding me in a way I couldn’t explain— all I could do was hope.
Hope that whatever this was…whatever we were becoming…wouldn’t break apart the moment we stepped back into the real world.
As we reached, I quickly got down from the bike, pulling off the helmet in a hurry, the excitement bubbling inside me before I could even control it, and without waiting for him, I ran straight into the house, my steps light as I walked toward the corner where Princess Rose stood.
She looked beautiful.
No longer dry.
No longer lifeless.
Her leaves were fresh and green, small new ones peeking out like she was finally breathing again.
A soft smile spread across my face as I bent slightly, my fingers brushing gently over one of the leaves.
“Did you start practicing to kneel in front of me?” I asked, turning back to look at him with a playful glint in my eyes.
Adithya walked in behind me, taking out the house key and unlocking the door properly, his movements calm as always. Then he walked toward me.
“Why would I need to practice?” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he crouched down beside me, his eyes flicking from the plant to me. “I kneeled in front of you, the very first time we met... didn't I?"
I blinked at him for a second—
then let out a soft laugh, shaking my head.
“That was different,” I muttered, trying to sound funny but failing miserably as the memory played in my mind.
He hummed lightly, his gaze settling on the plant again, his fingers brushing one of the fresh green leaves gently.
“It survived,” he said quietly.
“It’s because I planted it and I have magic in my hands,” I said proudly, stretching my fingers toward him as if I was showing off something extraordinary.
He looked at my hand for a second before chuckling softly, shaking his head as he stood up.
“Okay, magician… let’s go inside,” he said, his voice light.
I pushed myself up from the ground and walked in beside him, the comfort of the house wrapping around me the moment we stepped in.
Before I could even take another step, a tiny hiss reached my ears.
I looked down.
Little Sinclair came trotting toward me, her tiny body brushing against my leg as she let out another soft, dramatic hiss, as if she was scolding me for disappearing.
“Hey…” I murmured, bending slightly as a smile spread across my face, my fingers instantly reaching down to pick her up.
“Missed me?” I asked softly.
She responded by curling into me anyway.
“She’s not the only one who missed you,” He said suddenly, his voice quiet, almost casual, but the words landed far from it.
My eyes snapped to him instantly, my heart skipping in a way I couldn’t control.
“Eh?” I blurted out, completely caught off guard.
But he didn’t repeat it.
Didn’t even look at me.
He just turned around like nothing had happened and walked straight into the kitchen, as if he hadn’t just dropped something that completely shifted the air between us.
I stood there for a second.
Then quickly placed Sinclair down and rushed after him, that teasing smile already forming on my lips.
“What did you say?” I asked, leaning slightly to catch his face.
But he had his back turned to me, pretending to be busy with absolutely nothing, his shoulders just a little too stiff to be natural.
I chuckled softly, stepping closer.
“Say it again,” I pressed, my voice playful now, enjoying this side of him more than I should.
“No,” he muttered, still not turning around.
“Why?” I asked, tilting my head as I tried to peek at his face.
“Because I didn’t say anything,” he replied, stubborn as ever.
I let out a small laugh, folding my arms as I stood right behind him.
“You did,” I said, dragging the words out teasingly. “And I heard it very clearly.”
He stayed silent.
“Adithyaaa…” I called, stretching his name as I leaned a little closer, trying to catch even a glimpse of his expression.
I held his shoulder and forced him to turn toward me, my fingers tightening just enough to make him face me properly, but even then he turned his face slightly to the side, refusing to meet my eyes like he was afraid of what might slip out if he did.
“Say it again,” I said, my voice softer now, but stubborn in a way he couldn’t ignore.
He let out a quiet breath, then finally spoke, his voice low and steady.
“She’s not the only one who missed you.”
This time, he looked at me.
Directly.
And that alone made my heartbeat stumble.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked, even though I already knew, even though the answer was sitting right there between us, unspoken but understood.
He didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he stepped closer.
Closing the distance.
“What do you think I mean?” he asked, his voice quieter now.
I bit my lip, trying to hold back the smile that kept threatening to take over, my eyes flickering away for a second before coming back to him.
“Say it properly,” I murmured, my tone lighter, but my gaze not leaving his this time.
He shook his head faintly, a small, helpless smile forming on his lips like he was losing control.
“I won’t,” he said simply, that stubborn calm back in his voice like he had already decided he wouldn’t give me the satisfaction.
“Adithyaaa…” I whined loudly, dragging his name.
He just chuckled under his breath, turned slightly toward me, and before I could react, he raised his hand and flicked my forehead with his fingers.
“Ouch!” I hissed, immediately rubbing the spot as I glared at him. “That hurt!”
“Good,” he said casually, turning back to the stove like nothing had happened, like he hadn’t just attacked me for no reason.
I narrowed my eyes at his back, still rubbing my forehead.
“You’re so violent,” I muttered.
“You deserved it,” he replied without even looking at me.
“For what?” I asked, clearly offended.
“For being annoying.”
I gasped.
“I am not annoying,” I argued, stepping closer to him again, refusing to let him escape this conversation.
“You are,” he said calmly.
“I am lovable.”
“Debatable.”
I scoffed, crossing my arms.
“You missed me, didn’t you?” I asked, a smirk slowly spreading across my face as I tilted my head, watching him closely.
He said nothing.
Not a word.
Just stood there, his back still turned to me, his hands busy with something that clearly didn’t need that much attention.
I raised an eyebrow.
“Silence equals yes,” I declared confidently, as if I had just won some important argument.
This man.
He couldn’t even accept what he felt.
Let’s see for how long he can keep hiding from me.