The door clicked shut. The sound was final, cold, like the clang of a prison gate.Ananya sat motionless on her bed, every muscle taut, as if her body hadn't caught up with what had just happened. Her cheek still pulsed from her father's slap, a dull heat that spread into her jaw.
For a long moment, she did nothing. Just breathed. Shallow, uneven, afraid that even her own breath might give her away.
The Four Walls
Her room had always been her safe corner—books stacked by the window, a diary tucked under her pillow, her half-finished sketches scattered on the desk. Tonight it felt alien. A cage disguised as familiarity.
From the hallway came the faint murmur of her parents' voices—low, sharp, accusing. Every word she couldn't make out was worse than what she imagined: shame, disgrace, watch her closely, don't trust her.
The lock on her door gleamed in the dim light. They had sealed her in, like a criminal.
The Ache
She lay down but couldn't close her eyes. When she blinked, she saw the temple crowd again, the fleeting brush of Riyan's hand against hers, the daring whisper of his breath close to her ear.The warmth of his lips still lingered, faint but real.
Her palm rose instinctively, covering her mouth. A shield, a memory, a vow.That kiss—brief, reckless, defiant—was all she had left tonight. And it was enough to keep her from breaking.
Her body ached with fear and shame, but beneath it, something new stirred. Not just longing. Not just grief. A stubborn refusal.
The Quiet Rebellion
They thought walls and locks could erase him. That slaps and accusations could strip her of what she felt. But in the silence, she discovered something her parents could not touch.
She sat up and pulled her diary out from under the pillow. Her hands shook, but she pressed the pen to the page anyway. She didn't write his name—she couldn't dare. Instead, she drew a single shape: two interlocked hands.
It was enough. The curve of his thumb, the shape of his fingers. A secret only she would know.
Closing the book, she hugged it to her chest.Her parents thought they had locked her away.They had only taught her how much she needed to fight.
The Hardened Resolve
The night stretched long and sleepless, but by dawn, Ananya was different.Her eyes were swollen, her body exhausted, but her heart was sharper, steadier.
They could lock doors.They could strip her of outings, friends, smiles.But they could not take what she carried within her.
When she stood by the window and pressed her forehead against the bars, the rising sun painted her skin gold. She whispered into the morning air, soft but unshaking:
I will not let them end us. Not now. Not ever.
And for the first time since the slap, the ember inside her burned brighter than the pain.