7. Sleepwalking
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YUGANT
"What's Dhwani's full name?" I asked, looking straight at Ishaan, who stood rigid in front of me.
His eyes faltered for a second before he answered, "We...don't know. We tried to find it, but couldn't. No details show up anywhere."
My blood boiled at his words. "Don't know?" I repeated, my voice sharp. "You mean to tell me that she has been right under our noses all this time and you couldn't even trace her full identity?"
I took a step forward, fury lacing every word. "Is she a ghost, Ishaan, that you couldn't find her full name? Or have you all gone blind and useless?"
Ishaan lowered his gaze, silent.
Slamming my fist against the desk, I growled, "I want everything-her full name, her past, her family, every single detail that exists about her. Tear the city apart if you have to, but bring me answers. Do you understand?"
"Okay!" he said, startled at first but then narrowed his eyes. "But tell me one thing, why are you suddenly so desperate to know her full name when you already know she's Samarth's girlfriend? You're hiding something, aren't you?"
"Do as I said," I snapped, turning away. I don't owe you any unnecessary explanations." I shrugged, because I won't risk making the wrong move, not when it could cost someone dearly.
"Now I'm damn sure you're hiding something." His voice rose, provoking me further. "Do you think Samarth... wait-what I'm thinking... is it true?"
I knew he wouldn't back down without proof. With a sharp motion, I pulled open the side drawer of my desk, grabbed an envelope, and flung it toward him.
He opened it, his eyes scanning the it. With every line, the color drained from his face. He exhaled shakily. "So that's it? That's the matter? I knew it. I knew you couldn't do anything wrong."
"Now, do what I said." My voice left no room for argument. He gave a stiff nod before walking out.
Now, I have to deal with that little cute mute ghost of mine. She's really upset. It would be a lie if I said it isn't affecting me, because I've become used to the way she keeps looking at me-smiling, as if I were her whole world. And now, that silence feels heavier than anything else.
I walked out of my study room, this time going straight towards her room. I had to check her fever, maybe make her take the medicine before she got worse. Passing through the corridor, I reached her door, twisted the knob. Locked.
Not again.
I exhaled sharply. Why does she always do this? If she thinks a flimsy lock can stop me, she clearly doesn't know me yet.
For a good thirty seconds I just stood there, hand still on the knob, debating with myself. Knock? No. That would look like I care too much. Call her name? Definitely not. She'll ignore me, and my ego can't handle that.
My eyes slid to the corridor window.
A terrible idea bloomed.
A ridiculous, shameful idea.
Don't do it, yugant.
I did it.
I stepped out of the corridor, calculating the ledge like some thief in my own house. With every step on the narrow railing, my brain kept screaming-you're a Raizada, not a circus monkey!
But then again, since the moment this little hurricane barged into my life, I had been doing things I swore I'd never do. Following her around, watching her smile when she wasn't supposed to, worrying like a fool.
I climbed up towards her window, praying the staff wouldn't see me. Imagine the headline, Heir of Raizada Empire caught sneaking into girl's room.
Finally, I reached her window. It was half open. A grin tugged at my lips. Got you, sweetheart."
I climbed up, nearly slipping because of the polished marble railing. If I break my neck today, it's officially her fault. With a not-so-graceful move, I pulled myself inside.
The sound of my footsteps on the floor made her whirl around. A paintbrush was tucked behind her ear and another one dangled between her fingers, stained with blue. For a second, I just stared, her messy, absorbed look was... strangely endearing.
But the next second, she snapped out of it. Panic flickered across her face as she shoved the paper she was working on beneath the bed in one swift motion.
My eyes narrowed instantly.
"Well, well... what's that?"
She shook her head quickly, lips pressing together as if saying it was nothing.
Oh, clever. But not clever enough. My curiosity was already burning, but I decided not to press her right away.
First, I had to deal with something more urgent-her medicine.
If I piss her off now, she'll definitely refuse to take it.
I moved closer, hand lifting to touch her forehead, but to my surprise, she stepped back.
Now, that's something new. She doesn't want me to touch her? A smirk pulled at my lips. Fine. If she's going to resist, I'll give her ten times more reasons to react.
I stepped forward again, deliberately slow, watching her eyes widen as if she was caught off guard. In one swift move, I grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to me.
Her brush almost slipped from her fingers, and clicked on the floor.
My voice dropped low, "Running away from me, hmm? Bad idea, sweetheart. You should know by now, I don't let things slip away from me."
She tried to loosen my grip from her hand, her delicate fingers pushing against mine, but honestly, I was enjoying it.
Her silence was louder than screams, her eyes darting everywhere but at me. The more she resisted, the more the corner of my lips curved up.
I wondered, if her mute defiance was this thrilling, then what would happen when she finally opened that mouth of hers? When those lips formed furious words, when that voice hidden somewhere inside her, spilled out fire?
Would I still enjoy it?
No.
I would crave it.
My hand moved towards her lips, her resistance only making it more enjoyable for me.
My thumb brushed over her soft petal-like lips, and my gaze stopped at the small mole on the left side of her lower lip.
Damn, even that mole was teasing me. Everything about her was beautiful, her lips, her eyes, her silent fury.
I rubbed my thumb slowly there, then,out of impulse she slid it inside her mouth and bit on it.
The next second, my cockiness backfired.
Because she didn't let go.
I tried to pull my thumb back, but she clamped her teeth around it like a wild cat who had just caught her prey.
"Dhwani... leave it... ahh!" I hissed, half in pain, half in disbelief.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. Was she actually enjoying this?
"Are you... seriously biting me right now? I give you food, medicine, everything... and you chew me?" I gritted my teeth.
She raised her brows as if to say, serves you right. But she left my hand. Her teeth mark was actually digging in my skin. I loosened my hold over her and she stepped back.
She smiled faintly, her gaze falling on the mark her teeth had left on my thumb.
Honestly, the mark looked beautiful. Her teeth print.
"Enjoying this a little too much, aren't you? Should I do the same with you?" I teased.
Her eyes widened, and before I could blink, she jumped onto the bed, diving under the comforter like a startled kitten.
With a lazy stride, I followed, pulling the comforter away without mercy. She tried to escape again, but I caught her, pulling her beneath me in one swift move. Her arms were pinned above her head, and her legs were tangled in mine-completely trapped.
Her honey-brown eyes glared up at me, furious, beautiful, and stubborn all at once. I deliberately avoided her gaze, reaching for the side table. Grabbing the medicine strip, I popped a pill out and held it before her lips.
"Open your mouth," I ordered.
She shook her head, defiantly, as if daring me to try harder.
"Don't blame me if I end up forcing you..." I muttered, low and dangerous. Still, she didn't budge.
So I shoved the tablet past her lips, catching her resistance in stride. Snatching the glass of water, I pressed it against her mouth until she had no choice but to gulp it down.
When she finally swallowed, I leaned back, smirking at my small victory. "See? I knew I'd win. Handling you is harder than taming a hurricane."
She shoved me back again and walked towards the table, gathering her colors.
Colors? I never gave her those. She must've stolen them from my study. Well, she does roam around like this house belongs to her.
I followed, irritation bubbling. This silent treatment is clawing at me.
Before she could escape again, I scooped her up into my arms. Sitting on the couch, I placed her firmly on my lap.
She wriggled, trying to free herself. I caught her wrists and pulled her hands behind her back. "Listen to me once, please..." My voice came out softer than I expected.
She shook her head.
I exhaled. "You're angry because I shouted at you?"
She nodded.
"Does Samarth never shout at you?" I pressed.
Her eyes lit up, and she shook her head again.
Of course. That bastard spoiled her. My jaw tightened.
"Okay... stop giving me that treatment. I'm genuinely sorry for shouting at you. Can you please forgive me?" I said, the words strange and heavy on my tongue.
She stopped resisting, just stared at me, blinking.
My hands had a mind of their own, moving to her hips, pulling her closer against me.
Shit. Why the fuck did I do that? Why did I pull her closer? Why does she feel so damn soft against me?
"Do you forgive me?" I asked again, trying to focus on anything but the heat spreading in my chest.
She turned her face towards the table, eyeing her colors. I reached over, grabbed them, and handed them to her. "If I let you paint my face... will you forgive me?" The words slipped out before I could stop myself.
She bit her lower lip, thinking. My gaze locked there instantly. God. That lip. That damn lip.
I leaned in, pulled it out gently from between her teeth with my thumb, and rubbed over it. "You'll hurt yourself if you keep doing that."
She stilled, then nodded. Slowly, she picked up the brush, dipped it in color, and leaned closer to me.
And fuck... too close.
Her breath fanned over my face, warm, teasing. Her chest brushed against me as she bent forward. And then my eyes-oh no, no, don't-But my traitor gaze slid down anyway, catching the glimpse of her cleavage peeking through her clothes.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
I clenched the cushion beside me with a fist, digging my nails in. Don't look there, Yugant. Don't you dare look. She's innocent, she's-Damn it. I looked again.
My throat went dry. My heart pounded like it wanted to rip out of my chest. Do they have to be this perfect? Do they have to press against me like this? Shit. What would it feel like if-No. No. Shut up.
I closed my eyes tightly, trying to focus on anything else. But all I could feel was her warmth, her breath, and the maddening curve of her body leaning against mine.
My hands tightened on her hips, her dress riding just enough to show the smooth curve of her bare legs. She kept brushing her short strands back again and again, irritated when they fell forward as she used me-my face like a canvas.
I caught her wrists mid-motion, pulled her hair gently back, and held them in my fist. Taking out my handkerchief, I tied them into a messy ponytail that slipped to one side, leaving a few strands teasing her neckline, grazing the swell of her breasts.
Her brush stroked along my cheekbone cool at first, then warm with her skin's nearness. I realized she was painting me in shades of deep crimson, and every drag of the bristles made my jaw clenched.
My gaze dropped-against my will-down to the neckline where her hair curled inside. My grip on her hips tightened, pulling her unconsciously closer, my chest brushing hers.
I'm losing my damn self-control. Every stroke of her brush on my skin, every tiny movement of her hips as she leaned over me-it was too much.
My mind was a war zone. I glanced at her face-she was trying to giggle.
No sound came out, of course, but I knew.
I knew she was giggling, teasing me silently with that innocent little expression.
She pulled back slightly, satisfied with her work, and made a zero with her fingers-thumb and index curled, signaling, "You look good."
I stood, holding her gently but firmly. She wrapped her arms and legs around me, clinging like she belonged here. My gaze drifted to the mirror, I had a rainbow painted across my handsome face. The art was brilliant, flawless... and infuriatingly distracting.
She looked scared as I examined it.
"Hmm... it's looking good. You're a really good painter," I said softly.
The smile that spread across her face made my chest tighten. She hugged me again. I held her closer, my hands on her back, walking slowly toward the bed. "Sleep now, or you'll get fever again."
I tucked her under the comforter. She snuggled close, burying her head against my abs and gripping my collar. I rubbed her hair gently, trying to calm myself more than her.
God, why am I getting pulled towards her? I'm not a manwhore. Twenty-nine years... one girlfriend... even kissed her once... and here's this little girl making me lose all sense of control.
I watched her chest rise and fall, and listened to her quiet breathing. Every innocent gesture of hers, the brush in her hair, the way she leaned close-was driving me mad, her presence, her closeness, was too tempting, too impossible to ignore.
And just like that, she slept, her small hands still clinging to my shirt. I exhaled, pressing a kiss to her hair.
I looked at her face and felt a sharp pang of guilt. Am I doing something wrong? Or is she?
If she belongs to Samarth... why is she coming so close to me? And why am I letting myself get closer to her, when I know exactly what she means to him?
I'm betraying him, Samarth, who loves her so fiercely. When he comes back, how would I even begin to explain what I've done?
My thoughts about her aren't pure. Not even close. Every glance, every touch, every little moment with her is crossing a line I shouldn't even be near.
I have to stop this before I lose my mind completely. I can't be that man, the betrayer who snatches his best friend's love. I just... I can't.
I gently placed her head back on the pillow, making sure she was comfortable. The soft rise and fall of her breathing reassured me that she had finally fallen asleep.
I switched off the lights and quietly stepped out of her room, closing the door behind me. The moment I reached my own room, I collapsed onto the bed.
But sleep didn't come easy. My thoughts were relentless, circling around her, around Samarth, around everything I knew I shouldn't be feeling. Every memory, every glance, every touch kept replaying in my mind, annoying me, teasing me, making it impossible to find peace.
I looked down at my hand, the same hand that had touched her. It felt... wrong. So wrong. A wave of guilt and disgust washed over me. How could I be so selfish, so reckless? How could I touch her like that?
She's innocent-so pure, so unaware of half the things I know. And yet... I did it. I knew it was wrong. Every nerve in me screamed that I shouldn't, every thought told me to stop. And still... I couldn't.
I can't betray Samarth. I won't. I can't let myself cross that line. I have to stay away. I will stay away.
I closed my eyes, trying to erase every memory, every touch.
°°°
My eyes snapped open at a faint clinging sound, something had fallen on the floor. Heart thudding, I rubbed my eyes, trying to convince myself it was nothing.
I glanced at the clock: 2:00 AM.
Cautiously, I swung my legs off the bed and stood coming out of my room. The darkness of the mansion pressed around me. Every step I took felt heavy, echoing in the silent hallways. I moved through the rooms, checking-everything was quiet, still.
Then, near the open gallery at the back of the mansion, my gaze caught a shadow.
It was an open gallery. My family used to sit there at evening time. But since then it has been locked. Now the door was open, and I saw a small shadow.
My hand shot up instinctively, and when my eyes adjusted to the darkness, my heart almost stopped.
Dhwani. Standing there, peering down at the road below like she was about to jump.
Wait. What the hell? Why is she looking there?
I blinked, rubbed my eyes, and looked again. Nope. Still her. Still... eerily silent. Her hair was falling over her face, her fluttering slightly in the breeze. And she wasn't blinking. She... she was sleepwalking?!
"Okay, calm down, Yugant... she's just a human. Not a ghost. Not a ghost. Not a ghost," I muttered to myself, though my voice trembled.
I crept forward, each step silent, but somehow every creak in the mansion screamed in my ears. Her arms were loose at her sides.
"Is she going to-oh God, she's going to-!" My mind raced. She teetered slightly near the railing, and I swear, my brain turned into a 100 km/h rollercoaster of panic and imagination.
Maybe she's possessed. Maybe... maybe she's going to throw herself down to the road.
"DH-WAIT!" I shouted. My subconscious screamed: Do something, idiot! Do something before she-!
I lunged forward, my hands grabbed her arms, pulling her back, hard. I ended up almost tripping over the railing.
"Holy-fuck she's going to kill me too!" I thought, gripping her tighter. Her sleepy, innocent face looked completely unaware of the chaos she was causing.
"Why... why is she... ghost... human... mutt-oh no, just get her inside!" My brain short-circuited.
I dragged her away from the balcony, holding her in my arms. She swung her legs.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of wrestling with her flailing limbs, I dropped her onto the bed. I stumbled on couch panting like I'd run a marathon.
I leaned against the door, my heart pounding, my hands shaking. "What the hell just happened
I whispered to myself.
°°°
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