Chapter 15 Boundaries
The city lights outside blurred softly through the rain-covered windows.
Inside the VIP lounge, silence wrapped around them carefully.
Not uncomfortable.
Not tense.
Just... intimate in a way neither of them wanted to name yet.
Aarohi Mehra looked down briefly at the way Ekansh Rathore still held her hand.
Gentler now.
Not possessive.
Almost cautious.
Like emotional exhaustion had stripped away some of his sharper edges.
But that somehow made him more dangerous to her instead of less.
Because vulnerable people were harder to walk away from.
Especially when they trusted you.
Aarohi exhaled slowly.
"Ekansh..."
His eyes lifted immediately.
Always alert to her tone now.
"You're attached to me too quickly."
Silence.
Then calmly—
"I know."
That answer caught her off guard.
"You know?"
"I'm not stupid, doctor."
A faint tiredness entered his voice.
"I know this isn't normal."
The honesty made this infinitely harder.
Most emotionally dependent people denied it.
He didn't.
He recognized it fully and still didn't care.
Aarohi pulled her hand back gently this time.
He let her.
But she noticed the tiny shift in his expression immediately.
Dislike.
Not anger.
Just quiet disappointment again.
The realization affected her more than it should have.
"That's exactly why we need boundaries," she said softly.
His gaze remained fixed on her.
"You keep saying that word like it'll save you."
The statement landed too accurately.
Because yes—
Aarohi was trying to save herself too.
From emotional involvement.
From blurred lines.
From becoming responsible for a man who looked at her like survival itself depended on her staying.
"You cannot revolve your entire emotional stability around me," she said carefully.
"Too late."
"Ekansh."
"No," he interrupted quietly. "You want honesty? Fine."
His voice lowered slightly.
"When you're near me, my head stops feeling violent."
The room fell completely silent.
"You touch me," he continued slowly, "and I stop wanting to break things."
Aarohi's heartbeat turned uneven.
Because he wasn't romanticizing it.
He sounded almost disturbed by it himself.
"I sleep when you're here," he admitted. "I haven't slept properly in years."
Every sentence felt heavier than the last.
Then finally—
"And when you leave..." His jaw tightened slightly. "Everything gets loud again."
The vulnerability in that confession shook something inside her.
Because people didn't usually admit dependency this openly.
Especially not men built like weapons.
Aarohi forced herself to stay grounded.
"This is exactly why we need to slow down."
For the first time, irritation flickered across his face.
"I hate that phrase."
"Which one?"
"Slow down."
She almost smiled.
"You hate anything that doesn't go your way."
"That's because most things should."
Arrogant psychopath.
The thought should've annoyed her.
Instead it nearly made her laugh again.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Before the atmosphere could soften further, the music box melody finally faded into silence.
The quiet afterward felt heavier somehow.
Ekansh stared at the closed music box for a long moment.
Then quietly—
"He used to hide this from me after she died."
Aarohi understood immediately who he meant.
His father.
"He'd lock it away whenever I disobeyed him."
Her chest tightened.
Emotional blackmail.
Cruel and effective.
"Sometimes," Ekansh said softly, "he'd make me watch him pack her things into boxes."
The image alone hurt.
"He knew I'd do anything to keep the last pieces of her."
Aarohi looked at him carefully.
No wonder attachment terrified him.
Everyone he loved became leverage eventually.
Then a darker realization struck her.
If his father discovered how emotionally important she was becoming...
Aarohi's stomach twisted slightly.
Ekansh noticed instantly.
"What?"
"Nothing."
His eyes narrowed.
"You're thinking too loudly again."
She hesitated briefly.
Then decided honesty was safer.
"Your father notices things."
Coldness entered his expression immediately.
"He notices weaknesses."
There it was.
Confirmation.
Aarohi folded her arms lightly.
"That's what worries me."
Silence.
Then Ekansh leaned forward slightly, gaze turning dangerous again.
"No one touches you."
The certainty in his voice sent a chill through her.
Not dramatic.
Not protective in a sweet way.
Territorial.
Lethal.
Like violence itself would answer before fear ever reached her.
Aarohi held his gaze steadily.
"You can't kill every problem."
"I can try."
"That's not reassuring."
"It should be."
Despite herself, she smiled faintly.
And once again—
His entire expression softened just from seeing it.
The shift was instant.
Instinctive.
Like her smile physically changed something inside him.
Aarohi saw it clearly now.
This man wasn't falling in love normally.
He was attaching like someone drowning finding air.
Then quietly, almost thoughtfully, Ekansh asked—
"Do you know what scares me most?"
Aarohi shook her head slowly.
For the first time since meeting him...
Real fear crossed his face openly.
Not violence.
Not rage.
Fear.
"That one day," he said softly, "you'll look at me the way everyone else does."