|| 13. Caring & Protective ||

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Daksh

The morning light filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting soft, golden rays across Bhumika's apartment. It was quiet, unusually so, and as Daksh stood in the small kitchen, flipping eggs in a pan, a strange feeling settled over him. A kind of calm he hadn't experienced in a long time. Everything felt... different.

He glanced toward the living room, where Bhumika was still stretched out on the couch, her head resting against a pillow. She wasn't fully awake yet, but her eyes were open, tracking his movements lazily as he moved around the kitchen. The bandage on her side peeked out from under her shirt—a reminder of the injury that had brought him here in the first place.

Daksh had stayed the night, something he hadn't planned on but hadn't been able to avoid. The concern he felt for her, mixed with the warmth that filled the air between them, had kept him close, more than he cared to admit. And now, standing there in her kitchen, making breakfast, he felt an odd sense of belonging.

What am I doing? he thought to himself, shaking his head as he plated the eggs and set them on the counter. This isn't me.

But even as he told himself that, something about this morning felt right. Maybe it was the fact that Bhumika had finally let him in, allowing him to take care of her. Or maybe it was the way he had fallen asleep on the couch beside her last night, the quiet comfort of her presence lulling him into a peace he hadn't realized he craved.

"Daksh," her voice soft but alert, cut through the stillness.

He turned, wiping his hands on a towel, and gave her a small smile. "Morning. I made breakfast."

Bhumika sat up slowly, wincing slightly as she adjusted herself on the couch. Her hair was messy, and there was a lingering tiredness in her eyes, but she looked better. "I see that," she replied, her tone lighter than usual. "You didn't have to, though."

"Yeah, well," Daksh shrugged, "I'm not about to let you survive on coffee and toast after what you've been through."

She gave a small smile, one that barely reached her eyes, but it was enough to make his chest tighten. For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence as Bhumika slowly ate the food he'd prepared, her gaze occasionally flicking toward him. There was something different in the air, something unspoken between them.

And then, as if reading his thoughts, she broke the quiet. "So," she began, her voice a little firmer, "what about that lady at the temple?"

Daksh froze for a second, the memory of that day rushing back. He knew this question was coming eventually. He had felt it lingering between them for days now, but he wasn't sure how to answer. What could he say?

"That," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "was a setup. My mom's doing. The lady doctor they've been trying to push on me."

Bhumika's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker in her eyes—something unreadable, maybe even curiosity, but no judgment. "And?"

"And nothing," Daksh said quickly, leaning against the counter. "I didn't stay long. I... saw you, and that was enough of a distraction."

Her brow arched slightly. "A distraction?"

He smirked, though there was a deeper truth behind his words. "Yeah, well, you're hard to miss."

Bhumika didn't respond right away, just stared at him for a moment, as if searching for something in his face. He felt exposed under her gaze, as if she could see right through him, but he didn't mind. Not with her.

"Well," she said finally, her voice softening, "I hope you told your mom you're not interested."

"I did," Daksh replied, his voice firm but teasing. "Not exactly what she wanted to hear, but I told her the doctor wasn't the right one."

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