[SCENE: Morning – Bungalow Courtyard]
Mahi had barely slept. Her mind kept playing back the almost-kiss from the night before. Every time she looked at Soumik now, her heart skipped.
But today… she didn't look.
She passed by quickly, pretending to check her phone as she saw him talking to two newly arrived cousins. All boys—same roots, same bloodline. But as the girls from the verandah whispered:
Girl 1: "They're all cousins, right?"
Girl 2: "Same genes, huh?"
Girl 1 (smirking): "Then why do two look like unpaid interns at an IT helpdesk…"
Girl 2 (gasping): "...and that one looks like he stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad?"
Their eyes followed Soumik. Lean, tall, sharp eyes, hair slightly curled from the shower. In a plain black shirt, he still looked dangerously magnetic.
Mahi didn't even glance. She walked straight to the dining area, where they all sat at the same table.
She kept her head down as she ate silently, everyone else giggling and staring at Soumik.
He didn't smile. His eyes only looked once—at her.
She didn't meet them.
---
The sun was low. An uncle casually said:
Uncle: "Mahi beta, could you get some dry fruits from the market?"
Mahi: "Mm… accha."
She put on her light blue kurti, tied her hair up messily, slipped on her traditional shoes, and left with a cloth bag.
The streets were quiet.
She bought what was asked, folded the bag gently. But as she walked back, something felt… off.
Three men in leather jackets, greasy hair, and dark eyes leaned against a wall, eyeing her like she was a dream that walked.
Man 1 (whispering): "Has an angel dropped into our city?"
They stepped onto the road, blocking her way.
Man 2: "Hey, beautiful… wanna hang out with us tonight?"
Mahi (firmly): "No. Let me go."
She tried to move past, but one grabbed her wrist.
Man 3: "Where you running, jaan?"
She yanked her hand back. It scraped painfully against his ring.
Fear surged. She ran.
The thud of footsteps followed.
She didn't stop — clutching the bag to her chest — breath shallow.
But the uneven road, her slippery sandals — she stumbled.
Twisted her ankle. Crashed to the ground.
She winced, trying to crawl away. Her ankle screamed with pain.
The men were closing in now, grinning like vultures.
One of them reached out — his filthy hand trying to tear her kurti—
CRACK!
A flying kick landed on his face.
Two teeth flew out with blood. He hit the ground unconscious.
Mahi gasped.
Through blurred eyes, she saw someone walk past her — steady, deadly.
Like a shadow pulled into form.
The figure stood before her — strong, unmoving.
Soumik.
Slowly, he turned his head.
His eyes were not calm today.
They burned.
He didn't look at her.
His eyes were locked on the attackers — eight in total. Hungry, angry.
Soumik (coldly): "You touched her?"
The men laughed.
Man 1 (mocking): "You think you can take all of us?"
Two of them charged.
In one swift motion, Soumik twisted their necks with pinpoint hand strikes.
They dropped like puppets with cut strings.
Five left.
Three came at him with sticks and metal rods. One had a knife.
But Soumik's body moved like water and fire — fluid and violent.
He ducked, side-kicked, swept their legs.
His strikes were surgical — a front kick to the chest, a spinning elbow to the jaw.
Bones cracked.
One man screamed, clutching his shattered shin.
Then the one with the knife slashed — the blade cutting Soumik's shoulder. Blood spattered.
Mahi screamed his name — "Soumik!"
But he didn't flinch.
The pain didn't matter. He still stood between her and them — like a wall of vengeance.
Soumik stared down the knife-wielder. Then with a blur, he swept the man's leg, disarmed him, and crushed his knee with a final devastating kick.
The alley fell silent.
All eight were on the ground — groaning, some unconscious.
Soumik's chest rose and fell heavily. Blood dripped from his shoulder. His fists clenched. He looked… dangerous.
Mahi stared. Tears welled up. Her kurti torn, her ankle swelling. She felt small — but safe. Because he had come.
He walked up to her.
Soumik: "Can you walk?"
She nodded, but winced as she moved her ankle.
Without a word, he bent down, picked her up gently, and carried her.
---
INT. OUTSKIRTS ROAD – NIGHT
Soumik, still bleeding, lifts Mahi gently into his arms. Her breath hitches—not just from the shock or pain—but from the feeling of being this close to him.
As he holds her, her eyes fall on his forearm—muscular, dust-streaked, and now marked with a fresh cut near an old, faint scar.
And suddenly—it hits her.
FLASHBACK – YEARS AGO – DAYLIGHT
Two kids, playing with kites and laughter in an empty field. Mahi's laugh turns into a shriek as a wild dog barks and charges at them out of nowhere.
MAHI (young)
(screaming)
Soumik!
Little Soumik, weak and scared, doesn't run. He steps in front of her—arms spread.
The dog bites into his forearm. Blood. Tears. Mahi freezes, crying.
A stranger rushes over, saving them—but not before that bite leaves a permanent scar.
BACK TO PRESENT – NIGHT
Mahi's eyes widen as she looks at that scar again—older now, faded—but real.
This isn't a new Soumik. This is the same boy who once stood in front of a dog for her—who has always stood for her.
Her heart aches.
MAHI
(soft, emotional)
That scar... You still have it...
Soumik glances down at his arm, then back at her face.
SOUMIK
(smiling faintly)
Of course. Some things don't change.
A beat of silence. She tears a piece of her dupatta and gently wraps it around his bleeding shoulder, hands trembling.
MAHI
(whispering)
I'm sorry...
SOUMIK
Why?
MAHI
For ignoring you all day... for not seeing what you are. You—you came looking for me... while I...
(voice breaking)
And then you fought all those men like... like—
SOUMIK
(softly)
Hey... don't cry.
He brushes a tear from her cheek.
SOUMIK
I'm here now. And I won't let anyone hurt you again.
Her tears fall silently as she gives a small, broken smile.
INT. BUNGALOW – MAHI'S ROOM – NIGHT
Soumik gently places her on her bed. She watches him walk toward the door, hesitant.
MAHI
(turns her head slightly)
Soumik...
He pauses. Looks back.
MAHI
(awkward, whispering)
Aa... good night...
Soumik gives her a half-smile. One filled with warmth, history, and something unspoken.
SOUMIK
Good night, Mahi.
He closes the door quietly behind him. Mahi stares at the ceiling, hand clutching the corner of the dupatta she just tore.
The silence is loud. Her heart louder.
FADE OUT.
---