The morning didn't stay slow forever.
Because Meher—
was already bored.
"Aarav…" she called,
stretching slightly on the bed.
"Haan?"
"Mujhe bahar jaana hai."
(I want to go outside.)
Aarav didn't even look up from his phone.
"No."
Immediate.
She sat up straight.
"Bas garden tak!"
(Just till the garden!)
"No."
She stared at him.
"Aap serious ho?"
(Are you serious?)
He finally looked at her.
"Bilkul."
(Absolutely.)
She frowned.
"Main theek hoon ab."
(I'm fine now.)
Aarav stood up slowly—
walking toward her.
"Kal kya hua tha yaad hai?"
(Remember what happened yesterday?)
She went quiet.
"Garden bhi bahar hi hai," he added.
She sighed dramatically.
"Thodi hawa lene se kya ho jayega…"
(What will happen if I get some fresh air…)
A pause.
Aarav watched her.
Then—
very slowly—
he said—
"Main saath chalunga."
(I'll come with you.)
Her eyes lit up instantly.
"Sach?"
He nodded once.
"But conditions hain."
(But there are conditions.)
She groaned.
"Aap contract sign karwaoge kya?"
"Almost," he replied calmly.
She crossed her arms.
"Bolo…"
"Slow walk."
"Okay…"
"No unnecessary movement."
"Okay…"
"5 minutes."
"What?!"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Problem?"
She made a face—
but nodded.
"Fine…"
Aarav moved closer—
helping her stand carefully.
"Easy," he said softly.
She looked at him.
"Aap na…"
"Haan?"
"Thoda zyada ho."
(You're a bit too much.)
He smirked slightly.
"Thoda?"
She smiled despite herself.
They stepped outside.
The fresh air hit her instantly.
"Finally…" she whispered.
A small smile appeared on her face.
But Aarav—
wasn't relaxed.
His eyes scanned everything.
Every corner.
Every movement.
"Relax…" Meher said softly.
"I am," he replied.
She gave him a look.
"This is your relaxed face?"
"Better than angry one," he said.
She laughed lightly.
They walked slowly.
Very slowly.
Aarav's hand stayed near her—
ready to support.
At one point—
she tried to walk a little ahead.
"Meher—"
She stopped instantly.
"What?"
"Stay close."
She sighed.
"Aap mujhe bhaagne nahi de rahe…"
(You're not letting me run away…)
"Good," he replied.
She looked at him—
then smiled slightly.
"Main waise bhi nahi jaungi…"
(I wouldn't go anyway…)
That line—
softened him.
Just a little.
Then suddenly—
a man passed by nearby—
glancing at them.
Just a normal glance.
But Aarav noticed.
His expression changed instantly.
He stepped slightly in front of Meher—
subtly blocking the view.
She noticed.
"Aarav…"
"Haan?"
"Kya kar rahe ho?"
(What are you doing?)
"Kuch nahi."
(Nothing.)
She narrowed her eyes.
"Overreact mat karo…"
(Don't overreact…)
He looked at her—
serious again.
"I don't take chances."
A pause.
She sighed—
then stepped closer herself.
"Main yahin hoon…"
(I'm right here…)
His expression softened slightly.
"Exactly," he said.
"Isliye safe rehna hai."
(That's why you need to stay safe.)
She smiled faintly—
then lightly held his hand.
"Chalein ab?"
He nodded.
"Time over."
She groaned again.
"5 minute itne jaldi khatam ho gaye?"
"Rules yaad hain."
She rolled her eyes—
but didn't argue.
Because even with all this—
she knew.
This wasn't control.
This was care.
And somewhere—
she liked it.The moment they stepped back inside—
the outside world faded.
Quiet again.
Safe again.
But Meher—
was tired.
Not just a little.
The short walk—
was enough to drain her.
"Aarav…" she murmured softly.
He turned instantly.
"Haan?"
"Thoda… dizzy lag raha hai…"
(I'm feeling a little dizzy…)
That was enough.
Before she could even take another step—
Aarav was already there.
Holding her.
"Careful," he said,
his voice low—
but filled with concern.
"I told you…"
She gave a weak smile.
"I'm fine…"
"No," he said immediately.
"You're not."
Without another word—
he lifted her gently.
"Aarav—"
"No walking now."
She didn't argue this time.
Just rested against him.
Because she knew—
he wouldn't listen anyway.
He placed her carefully on the bed—
adjusting the pillow—
making her lie down properly.
"Paani?" he asked.
(Water?)
She nodded slightly.
Within seconds—
he was back.
Holding the glass.
"Slow," he said,
helping her sit a little.
She drank quietly.
Watching him.
The way his eyes didn't leave her.
The way his hand stayed ready—
in case she slipped.
"Aap itna tension kyun lete ho…" she whispered.
(Why do you worry so much…)
He didn't answer immediately.
Just took the glass from her—
placing it aside.
Then—
very gently—
he brushed her hair back.
"Because I can't afford not to," he said quietly.
That tone—
soft.
Honest.
She looked at him.
For a moment—
no teasing.
No arguments.
Just understanding.
"Aarav…"
"Haan…"
"Main strong ho jaungi…"
(I'll become strong…)
A small pause.
"So you don't have to worry this much."
He shook his head slightly.
"I'll still worry."
She smiled faintly.
"Phir toh problem hai…"
(Then that's a problem…)
He leaned a little closer.
"Tum ho… toh problem bhi chalegi."
(If it's about you, even problems are fine.)
That made her smile.
A real one.
Slowly—
she moved her hand—
holding his.
"Thank you…" she whispered.
"For what?"
"For being… like this."
Aarav didn't reply.
Instead—
he adjusted the blanket over her—
making sure she was comfortable.
Then—
he sat beside her—
not too far.
Not too close.
Just enough.
But after a moment—
she shifted slightly.
Closer.
Resting her head near his arm again.
"Yahin rehna…" she murmured.
(Stay here…)
He didn't move.
"Main yahin hoon," he said softly.
Her fingers curled into his shirt again.
That habit.
And this time—
he didn't tease her for it.
Just placed his hand gently over hers.
Holding it.
Secure.
Because sometimes—
after all the chaos—
love didn't need big moments.
Just quiet care.
Just presence.
And someone who stays.The calm didn't last untouched.
Because care—
slowly turned into control.
Meher was lying on the bed—
resting—
eyes half closed.
Aarav sat beside her—
watching.
Not casually.
Carefully.
Observing every little movement.
"Aarav…" she whispered.
"Haan?"
"Main theek hoon ab…"
(I'm fine now…)
He didn't respond.
That silence—
felt different.
"Aap kuch bol kyun nahi rahe?" she asked.
(Why aren't you saying anything?)
He finally looked at her.
"Because tum sunogi nahi."
(Because you won't listen.)
She frowned slightly.
"Main sunti hoon."
(I do listen.)
He shook his head.
"Nahi."
A pause.
"Tum apne hisaab se karti ho."
(You do things your way.)
That hit.
"Aarav—"
"Today was proof," he continued calmly.
"Walk chahiye thi… aur ab dizziness."
She looked away.
Because he wasn't wrong.
But still—
his tone—
felt strict.
"Aap overreact kar rahe ho…" she said softly.
(You're overreacting…)
That was it.
Aarav stood up instantly.
"Overreact?"
His voice—
not loud—
but intense.
"Tumhe pata hai kya ho sakta tha?"
(Do you even know what could've happened?)
She went quiet.
Because she did.
A pause.
Then—
his tone lowered again.
But it didn't soften.
"From now on…"
He stepped closer.
"…rules follow honge."
(Rules will be followed.)
She blinked.
"Rules?"
He nodded once.
"Without me—no going out."
She opened her mouth—
but he continued.
"Without asking—no unnecessary movement."
"Aarav—"
"And no arguments."
Silence.
Heavy.
Meher stared at him.
"This is too much…"
"Yeh kam hai," he replied instantly.
(This is less.)
That tone—
final.
She looked hurt now.
"Main koi bachchi nahi hoon…"
(I'm not a child…)
A pause.
Aarav's expression changed slightly.
Softer.
But still firm.
"Mujhe pata hai."
(I know.)
He leaned slightly closer.
"But tum meri ho."
(But you are mine.)
That line—
wasn't controlling.
It was protective.
Possessive.
Scared.
And she felt it.
"I'm just trying to keep you safe," he added quietly.
Now—
the anger was gone.
Only fear remained.
Meher's eyes softened.
Slowly—
she sat up a little.
"Aarav…"
"Haan…"
"Aap strict ho sakte ho…"
(You can be strict…)
A pause.
"…par itna mat daro."
(But don't be this scared…)
That line—
hit him.
Because she saw it.
Clearly.
He looked away for a second.
Then back at her.
"I lost control once," he said quietly.
"I'm not risking it again."
Silence.
Meher didn't argue anymore.
Instead—
she moved her hand—
holding his.
"Fine…" she whispered.
He looked at her.
"I'll follow your rules."
A pause.
"But…"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Thoda pyaar bhi add kar dena."
(Add some softness too…)
That—
finally—
broke his strict expression.
Just a little.
"Try karunga," he said again.
(I'll try.)
She smiled faintly.
Leaning back slowly.
And this time—
when he sat beside her—
his hand didn't just stay ready.
It stayed on hers.
Holding.
Not just protecting.
But staying.The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
Aarav had stepped out for some work—
after making it very clear—
"Rest. No moving."
Meher had nodded.
Like always.
But—
restlessness doesn't listen.
After some time—
she sat up.
"Bas thodi der…" she whispered to herself.
(Just for a little while…)
Slowly—
carefully—
she got down from the bed.
At first—
everything felt fine.
A few steps.
Then more.
She walked toward the window—
then outside the room.
"See… I'm fine…" she murmured.
But her body—
wasn't ready.
A slight dizziness.
She held the wall.
"Bas… thoda sa…"
But stubbornness—
won.
By the time Aarav returned—
the house wasn't the same.
He entered—
calling out—
"Meher?"
No response.
His brows frowned instantly.
"Meher."
He walked faster—
toward the room—
And then—
he saw her.
Standing—
weak—
holding the table for support.
That was it.
His expression changed instantly.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
His voice—
sharp.
Loud.
Meher flinched.
"Aarav… main bas—"
Before she could finish—
her vision blurred.
And the next second—
she collapsed.
"MEHER!"
Aarav caught her just in time.
His heart—
racing.
"Meher… Meher… open your eyes!"
No response.
His hands—
slightly shaking now.
He lifted her immediately—
placing her on the bed.
"Damn it…" he muttered.
Her forehead—
burning.
Too hot.
"Fever…" he whispered.
High.
His jaw tightened.
Within minutes—
the doctor was called.
The wait—
felt endless.
Aarav paced the room—
restless.
Angry.
Scared.
Finally—
the doctor arrived.
Checking her—
temperature—
pulse—
everything.
Then—
a sharp look at Aarav.
"You're not taking proper care," the doctor said.
Aarav froze.
"She needs rest, not movement."
"I told her—" Aarav started.
"Then why is she walking?" the doctor interrupted.
Silence.
Because there was no answer.
"Her body is weak," the doctor continued.
"This fever is because of strain."
A pause.
"You have to be more careful."
And with that—
the doctor left instructions—
and walked out.
The room fell silent again.
But this time—
it wasn't calm.
It was heavy.
Aarav stood still.
Then slowly—
he turned toward her.
She was awake now.
Weak.
Eyes slightly open.
"Aarav…" she whispered.
He didn't respond.
Just looked at her.
That look—
hurt more than shouting.
"I'm sorry…" she said softly.
Still no response.
"Aarav… main bas—"
"Bas kya?"
His voice—
low.
Controlled.
"Bas kya, Meher?"
She went quiet.
"I told you not to move," he continued.
"Ek baar bola tha."
(I said it once.)
His jaw tightened.
"Tumhe itna bhi samajh nahi aata?"
(Don't you understand even this much?)
Her eyes filled instantly.
"I thought I was fine…"
"That's the problem," he snapped.
"You think."
A pause.
"You don't listen."
Silence.
Tears rolled down her eyes slowly.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered again.
Aarav looked away.
Because if he kept looking—
he'd melt.
But the anger—
was stronger right now.
"From now on…" he said,
"…you don't move without me."
No softness.
No teasing.
Just rule.
"I'm serious."
She nodded slowly.
Unable to argue.
Because this time—
she saw it clearly.
He wasn't just angry.
He was scared.
And that fear—
was turning him into something stricter.
Something harder.
But still—
someone who cared too much.The room stayed silent.
Too silent.
Meher lay there—
weak—
eyes slightly closed—
tears still resting on her cheeks.
Aarav stood near the window—
facing away.
Trying to hold himself together.
But her quietness—
was louder than anything.
No arguments.
No teasing.
That wasn't her.
Slowly—
he turned back.
His eyes fell on her.
Small.
Fragile.
Not the same strong, stubborn girl.
And suddenly—
everything hit him.
His words.
His tone.
Too harsh.
"Damn…" he whispered under his breath.
He walked back to her—
slowly this time.
Carefully.
Sitting beside her.
"Meher…" he called softly.
No response.
Just a faint movement.
Her breathing—
uneven.
That scared him more.
His hand moved—
hesitating for a second—
then gently touching her forehead.
Still warm.
"Stupid…" he murmured,
but his voice broke.
"Khud ka dhyaan bhi nahi rakh sakti…"
(Can't even take care of yourself…)
But there was no anger now.
Only concern.
Slowly—
he wiped the tear from her cheek.
That small gesture—
so careful—
so different from before.
"I'm sorry…" he whispered.
This time—
he meant it.
Her eyes opened slightly.
"Aarav…"
He leaned closer instantly.
"Haan… I'm here."
Her hand moved weakly—
trying to reach him.
He held it immediately.
"Tension mat lo…" she whispered.
(Don't worry…)
That broke him.
He let out a soft breath—
almost a shaky one.
"Tumhe hi tension hona chahiye," he said quietly.
(You should be the one worried…)
She gave a faint smile.
"Daanta kyun itna…"
(Why did you scold me so much…)
That hit directly.
His grip on her hand tightened slightly.
"I was scared…" he admitted.
No ego.
No anger.
Just truth.
"Bahut zyada."
(Very much.)
She looked at him—
softly.
"Main theek ho jaungi…"
(I'll be fine…)
He shook his head slightly.
"Mujhe pata hai…"
A pause.
"…par phir bhi dar lagta hai."
(But I still get scared.)
Silence.
She slowly shifted—
trying to sit a little.
"Arre—"
Aarav immediately supported her.
"Careful…"
He adjusted the pillow—
helping her lean properly.
His movements—
gentle now.
Controlled.
Different from before.
"Paani?" he asked softly.
She nodded.
He held the glass for her—
guiding it carefully.
"Slow…"
She drank—
watching him.
"You're not angry anymore?" she asked quietly.
A pause.
He looked at her.
"Thoda…"
(A little…)
She made a small face.
"Still?"
He leaned slightly closer—
soft voice—
"Khud pe zyada."
(More at myself.)
That surprised her.
"Aap pe kyun?"
(Why at yourself?)
He exhaled slowly.
"Because I should've handled it better."
Silence.
Then—
very gently—
he placed his hand on her head.
A soft touch.
"I'm sorry…" he said again.
This time—
clear.
She smiled faintly.
"Accepted…"
A pause.
Then—
very softly—
she leaned toward him.
Resting her head lightly against his chest.
"Ab theek hai…" she murmured.
(Now it's okay…)
Aarav didn't move.
Just wrapped his arm around her.
Careful.
Protective.
And this time—
not strict.
Just… gentle.
Because sometimes—
love isn't loud.
It's in the way anger melts—
into care.
.
.
Hope you like it