Yearning

Chapter One.

"Calm down, I’m coming! I promise, I won’t be late this time." Zaira murmured into the phone, bracing it between her shoulder and her cheek.

Her fingers fumbled as she slid a book into her college tote.

She hurried down the expansive upper corridor of the Singhania mansion, her steps quick and light against the carpeted corridor floor.

"No, no! Please, just save me a seat.." she laughed softly, breathless, finally shoving the book inside and zipping the bag closed, "You know how crowded the lecture hall gets if you’re even a minute late."

She picked up her pace as she rounded the corner to the left.

She was mid-laugh, suddenly, she halted. Her breath hitched.

She had almost collided with someone's back.

"I... I’m sorry." she stammered, her gaze instinctively flew upward, but the moment she met his face, she lowered her gaze the moment she recognized it was him.

Taking about three steps back.

The eldest son of the Singhania’s Family.. The man who made the very air in the mansion feel heavy.

To the rest of the world, he was a titan of industry.

To Zaira, he was the person who made her skin crawl, And it was always his eyes.

They were an unsettling shade of grey...empty, almost lifeless and sightless at first glance, as if he couldn’t see at all.

But then you noticed the dark pupils. They weren't blind..they were hyper-aware.

He looked at her.

He didn't move. He didn't speak. He simply stood there, towering over her, staring with an intensity that felt heavy for Zaira.

After a beat of agonizing silence, His expression twisted..something close to disgust, or maybe annoyance..and without a word, he turned back around and walked away.

Zaira released a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.Her heart was beating against her ribs.

"Why do i have to run into him this morning.." she whispered to herself, rubbing her arms as a sudden chill broke out across her skin...

"Zaira? Girlll! Are you still there? Are you okay?"

The voice from her phone snapped her back to reality. Zaira blinked, looking down at the screen. She was still on the call.

"Oh... um, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine." she lied, her voice trembling slightly. "I’ll see you at the University."

She hung up and hurried toward the grand staircase, her legs feeling a little jelly.

As she descended, familiar voices drifted up from below, Mrs. Singhania’s cheerful, melodic voice and Mr. Singhania gentle laugh.

Zaira tightened her grip on the railing.

The tension from the hallway still clung to Zaira’s skin, but she forced a smile as she entered the dining hall.

The room was bathed in Mumbai early morning sunlight, smelling of ginger tea and warm spices of delicious foods..

Before she could even reach the table, Mrs. Singhania noticed her from her seat.

"Oh, my sweet dear! Good morning!" she called out warmly.

Zaira’s face relax a bit.

Mrs. Singhania was kindness personified. A woman in her fifties..though Zaira often doubted that number...because there wasn’t a strand of grey in her hair, nor a trace of tiredness in her movements.

She looked younger than her years, radiant and energetic, always dressed impeccably.

She was tall and graceful, effortlessly stylish..every inch the elegant matriarch of the house.

And endlessly affectionate toward Zaira..

She gestured toward an empty chair.

"Come, come! Sit. Breakfast is already waiting for you."

Mr. Singhania turned then, his expression softening into a fatherly smile the moment he saw Zaira.

He was a handsome man, dignified, with a calm gentleness reserved only for the walls of this house...and for her. Outside, Zaira knew, he was different and she had seen it.

And he had those eyes. Those same striking, light eyes that he had passed down to his son.

But where the father’s eyes were warm and welcoming, Aarvik’s were a frozen wasteland.

"Good morning, Aunty. Good morning, Uncle." Zaira said softly.

As she moved toward the table, her gaze accidentally swept across the far end. There he was.

Aarvik sat at the head of the long dinning table, silently eating.

Her grip tightened on the strap of her tote bag. She didn't offer him a greeting..She didn’t greet him.

She couldn’t.

Because if she did, he never answers, so what's the point?

Her eyes darted away.

Aarvik didn't acknowledge her. He continued to eat, his eyes fixed on the financial tablet propped up beside his plate.

Zaira sank into the chair to Mr. Singhania’s right, feeling a small sense of protection by sitting so close to him.

Almost instantly, a maid appeared, placing a steaming cup of ginger tea and some eggs and bread-toast in front of her.

"All ready for school, dear?" Mr. Singhania asked.

Zaira nodded, offering a small, genuine smile as she picked up her fork.

"Yes, Uncle.."

"Oh, by the way.." Mr. Singhania began, setting his cup down after a slow sip of ginger tea. "Didn't you mention that your favorite professor is visiting the university today? A guest lecturer, right?"

At the mention of her studies, Zaira’s face lighten up..

A brilliant, wide grin broke across her face, and she nodded with the pure excitement of a child.

"Yes! Mr. Kapoor.." she said softly. "I’ve dreamed of having him sign my copy of his book for years. I can’t believe he’s actually going to be there."

Mrs. Singhania leaned forward, her eyes twinkling with the casual power of the ultra-wealthy.

"You know, dear, if you’d like, we can simply invite him here for dinner. Why settle for a crowd with students pushing each other, when we can give you a front-row ticket right here at home?"

Zaira felt a swell of gratitude so thick it nearly brought tears to her eyes. They weren't her blood, yet they treated her as if she were the center of their universe.

"I would love that, truly, but–"

The harsh sound of a chair leg scraping against the floor cut her off.

The table went silent as they turn their heads.

Aarvik stood up slowly.

He didn't look at his parents, and he certainly didn't look at Zaira. He merely picked his tablet.

"I’m leaving." he said.

His voice was a low, resonant rumble, very deep. It was the first time he had spoken all morning.

"Oh, wait! Aarvik, darling.." Mrs. Singhania called out casually. "Since you're heading out, could you drop Zaira at the university?"

Zaira, who had been taking a nervous sip of her tea, suddenly choked.

A burning sensation flared in her throat as she coughed, her face flushing a deep crimson.

"Oh, heavens! Are you alright, dear?" Mrs. Singhania hovered anxiously as a maid hurried forward with a glass of water.

Zaira took the glass with trembling hands, her mind screaming in a panicked loop.

Why would she ask that? Why him?.

Being in the same house as him was terrifying enough..but being trapped in the suffocating, enclosed space of a car?

With him?

Zaira looked up through the watery haze of her coughing fit, her eyes meeting his.

Aarvik was staring at her, his expression a void of chilling emptiness. He looked entirely emotionless, as if her panic were nothing more than an inconvenient noise in the background of his morning.

"Oh, dear. Are you feeling better?" Mrs. Singhania asked, her hand resting gently on Zaira’s shoulder.

Zaira nodded quickly, her face still burning.

Choking on ginger tea is a death sentence..

"So, can you? Will you take her, Aarvik?" Mrs. Singhania pressed.

Is she trying to kill me? Zaira screamed internally. She adored the woman, she truly did, but in this moment, she wished Mrs. Singhania would stop meddling. Every kind gesture was pushing Zaira deeper into the lion’s den.

Without a single word...Aarvik turned on his heel. His long, authoritative strides carried him toward the big entrance door.

"That’s a yes!" Mrs. Singhania whispered urgently, nudging Zaira. "Hurry, dear, you need to follow him!"

Zaira gulped, She scrambled to her feet, snatching her tote bag and nearly tripping over her own feet as she hurried after him.

The fear of being left behind was only slightly smaller than the fear of being in the car with him, but she had no choice.

She was trapped by politeness and his mother’s expectations.

Outside, the morning air was crisp, but the sight of the grey Rolls-Royce waiting made Zaira’s stomach do a slow, sick somersault.

A young security guard stood by the door, his posture rigid until he saw them approaching.

Aarvik slid into the back seat effortlessly, his presence immediately claiming the entire interior of the luxury car.

Zaira hurried to the other side, her fingers reaching for the handle, but before she could touch the cold metal, someone beat her to it.

It was one of the younger guards. He swung the door open for her, a small, polite smile playing on his lips. Zaira gasped softly, surprised by the gesture.

"Thank you." she murmured, offering him a shy, genuine smile in return. The young man’s cheeks took on a faint tint of pink as he nodded, quickly averting his eyes to maintain his professional distance.

She stepped into the car, and the door clicked shut.

Aarvik saw the scene but he just looked away.

The driver pulled away smoothly, beginning the long drive towards the gates.

The property was massive, a sprawling manicured lawns and high stone walls that felt like a world of its own, isolated from the chaos of Mumbai.

The Singhania estate wasn't just a home, it was a fortress and as the main gates loomed in the distance, Zaira felt less like a student headed to class.

Everyone knows the Singhania! Even in her university, she was treated differently like a very important person.

Beside her, Aarvik didn't move. He didn't look at her.

But the air in the car was thick,with the tension that made the hair on her arms stand up.

She stayed pressed against the door, as far from him as the leather seats would allow.

As the Rolls-Royce drive out of the gate..

Lines and lines of towering trees flanked the private road, their branches interlacing above like skeletal fingers.

To the left, the forest grew thick and impenetrable, a wall of emerald shadows that seemed to swallow the morning light.

It was clear they hated the prying eyes of the public, preferring this isolated silence.

When Zaira had first arrived two years ago, the scale of the isolation had terrified her.

Suddenly, a localized chill swept through the car.

Unknowingly, Zaira’s gaze drifted toward Aarvik. He looked… strange. He was staring straight ahead with such intensity it was as if he were trying to burn a hole through the partition.

His jaw was clamped so tight the bone looked sharp enough to cut, and his fist was clenched white against his thigh, the fabric of his expensive trousers straining under the pressure.

Is he angry? she wondered, a flicker of panic dancing in her chest.

Is he mad that he has to drive me? She decided not to linger on the thought..it was safer not to know what went on behind that frozen mask.

Instead, she pressed herself even tighter against the door, putting as much distance between them as the luxury cabin would allow, and turned her face to the window to watch the blur of trees.

Then, her phone buzzed.

The screen lit up, and the moment Zaira read the notification, a radiant, uncontrollable smile broke across her face.

“GIRL! Guess who i just saw in the hall…” the message from her best friend read. Attached was a candid photo of a young man.

He was hunched over working on his laptop, his glasses sliding slightly down the bridge of his nose, looking every bit the brilliant, handsome scholar she had admired from afar for months.

A soft, involuntary blush crept up Zaira’s neck, warming her cheeks. He was so intelligent, so kind…so everything Zaira dream of in a man.

Out of excitement, she let out a quiet giggle that pulled Aarvik’s attention.

From the corner of his eye, Aarvik saw it. He saw the way her eyes softened.

The air in the car turned arctic. Aarvik’s face didn't just harden..it turned to stone.

He didn't look at her, but the shadow he cast seemed to grow, inching to the leather seat toward her, his very presence was reaching out to snatch that smile right off her face.

???