The weather hadn't been kind to Riya. One walk in the rain, one stupid, drenched, cold-hearted betrayal by the sky, and here she was, wrapped like a burrito in three layers of blankets, nose red, eyes droopy, and mood officially certified as "cranky."
"Anuuuu," Riya whined from the couch, her voice hoarse and dramatic, "I think I'm dying. Write that on my tombstone, okay? 'Death by Rain and Betrayal.'"
From the kitchen, Anu groaned. "You're not dying, you're just being dramatic. Again. Also, where's the ginger I bought yesterday?"
Riya sneezed loudly in response.
Anu appeared at the door, arms crossed, brow furrowed. "See, this is what happens when you roam around in rain like it's a K-drama shoot. Do you even know how you looked when you came home last night? Like a soaked pigeon with ruined eyeliner."
"I was not, " Riya coughed mid-defense, her voice dissolving into a pitiful wheeze.
Anu rolled her eyes and turned back. "I'm going out to get meds and something warm. Don't move. And for heaven's sake, don't die until I come back."
Riya flopped back into the couch dramatically, pulling the blanket tighter. Her throat burned. Her head throbbed. And her phone buzzed endlessly with notifications she didn't care to check. All she wanted was a hot water bag, two pills, and maybe a genie to undo the last twenty-four hours.
She closed her eyes.
And in that half-asleep haze… there was a knock at the door.
Not Anu. That girl never knocked.
Riya groaned and dragged herself up, her blanket trailing behind like a cape of defeat. She peeked through the door viewer.
And blinked.
Once. Twice.
"You've got to be kidding me."
She cracked the door open, sniffled, and looked up. "…Seriously? What are you doing here?"
Dhruv stood there, annoyingly calm, holding a paper bag in one hand and a small steel flask in the other. He was dressed in his usual too-perfect-for-this-world fashion, black shirt, sleeves folded neatly, no umbrella this time.
"I brought this," he said, lifting the items. "You sounded sick."
"I look sick," she corrected, tugging the blanket higher around her neck like a suspicious old granny. "I never told you anything."
"You didn't have to," he replied coolly, stepping in without waiting for an invitation. "You sneeze like a foghorn. I could hear it halfway down the street when I was passing."
Riya gave him an unimpressed stare as he walked past her, straight into the living room like he owned the place.
"Nice to see you too," she muttered, following him.
He placed the bag on the table. Inside: a strip of paracetamol, lozenges, a packet of tissues, and… mushroom soup. Still warm.
"You didn't make this, did you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm not that impressive," he replied. "I bought it from that place near the book café you like. It's supposed to be good."
Riya blinked. "…You remember where I go to eat?"
He didn't respond. Just shrugged, nonchalantly, but avoided her eyes for a second too long.
She sat slowly on the couch, sniffling. "Thanks. I guess. That's… thoughtful."
There was an awkward pause. The sound of the wall clock ticking suddenly became too loud.
Riya sipped the soup, hands wrapped around the cup. Warm. Comforting. It didn't fix her throat, but it calmed something else, something tight in her chest.
Dhruv sat at the far edge of the couch, watching her with an unreadable expression.
"You didn't have to come," she said quietly, voice softer now. "Most people just text. Or forget."
He looked at her for a long second. "I'm not most people."
That shut her up for a moment.
Another beat of silence passed, but it wasn't uncomfortable anymore.
Riya pulled the blanket around her again and leaned into the cushion. "Well… stay until Anu comes. Just in case I faint dramatically."
"Of course," Dhruv said dryly. "You'd do it with flair, no doubt."
She smirked sleepily.
Moments passed. Her eyes began to flutter closed. The warmth of the soup, the comfort of the blanket, the quiet presence beside her, it all blended into a blur.
Before she knew it, her head gently tilted… and rested against his shoulder.
Dhruv stiffened for half a second.
Then, he relaxed.
Her breathing slowed. She was asleep.
Dhruv looked down at her. Hair slightly messy, face flushed from the fever, lips parted in deep sleep.
So human.
So flawed.
And yet… in that moment, she looked like the calm in his ever-stormy sky.
He didn't understand it.
But he didn't move either.
Perfect, Mahi. Let's continue this moment with Dhruv's intimidating yet subtle decision, something he doesn't fully understand himself yet, something that hints at a deeper claim or protectiveness over Riya. But right before he goes too far, Anu barges in, snapping him out of that trance. It'll be soft, a little intense, and just the right emotional pull.
She slept soundly, her head still resting against his shoulder, breathing steady and warm.
Dhruv sat motionless, his gaze fixed on her face, softened in sleep, stripped of all her usual sass and spark, and yet somehow even more captivating like this. Vulnerable. Human.
He didn't like this feeling. It was unfamiliar, unsettling. She wasn't like the women he'd encountered before, no masks, no games, just… honest chaos. She stumbled, spoke her mind, laughed too loud, and burned with something he couldn't name.
And now she was getting under his skin.
Dhruv's jaw tightened slightly.
He didn't plan this. He never planned emotional ties. That wasn't part of his mission. Earth wasn't home. And she... she was just a passing moment in a long eternity.
Or… she should've been.
He stared down at her hand, loosely resting near his. Her fingers twitched slightly in sleep. Without thinking, he reached out, his fingertips brushing against hers, slow and deliberate.
Just a touch.
A simple, silent decision whispered itself in his mind.
> No one harms her. No one even dares.
It wasn't spoken aloud. It didn't need to be. But it lingered in the air like a vow, quiet but sharp.
Dhruv's eyes darkened slightly, an intensity blooming beneath the surface. He didn't know what this connection meant, didn't even want to admit it existed.... l, but whatever it was, it pulled at him. Tugged something ancient, something celestial, something dangerous.
And in that moment… he didn't care.
His hand hovered again, this time brushing a strand of hair away from her forehead. Slow. Protective.
But before he could even register what he was doing....
BANG.
The front door flew open.
"I'm back..... oh." Anu froze at the threshold, wide-eyed, holding a grocery bag in one hand and a bottle of syrup in the other. "Am I… interrupting something?"
Dhruv blinked.
The trance shattered.
He turned abruptly, posture stiffening like he'd been caught holding a weapon instead of a strand of hair. His hand dropped to his lap. His expression sealed into that signature cold calm again, but the flicker of guilt, of realization, was there.
Riya stirred at the sudden noise, groaning faintly.
Anu narrowed her eyes, stepping in with the precision of someone who definitely smelled something strange in the air.
"Well, well," she said slowly, placing the bag down. "Didn't expect you to play nurse, Dhruv."
"I wasn't..... " he started, then stopped. The excuse didn't matter. She wouldn't believe it anyway.
Riya sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes. "Anu? You're loud."
Anu smirked. "Oh honey, you have no idea."
Riya blinked, her eyes adjusting. She looked at Dhruv, realizing how close she'd been, her face flushing faintly. "You're… still here?"
Dhruv stood. Collected. Voice calm. "You should rest properly. The soup will cool down if you don't finish it."
He turned to Anu with a curt nod. "Take care of her."
Then, without another word, he walked past them and stepped out into the night, his footsteps light, precise, but his thoughts…
His thoughts were loud.
>... What the hell was that?
He didn't even recognize himself.
But one thing was clear: she was different. Dangerously different.
And something inside him had just shifted.
Whether it was for better or worse… he didn't know yet...
- - - to be continued - - -