zeal of his love

REPLACE EVERYTHING

"Sweetheart I am..."

Vansh barely began when Riddhima raised her hand, her outstretched palm facing Vansh as he halted him. 

"Vansh, tum..."

(Vansh, You...)

She began hysterically, her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms as she sat on the edge of the bed, trying to steady the storm of emotions swirling within her. His actions cut deep, leaving a bitter taste she couldn't shake, and anger simmered beneath her skin. She kept her gaze focused somewhere beyond him, fighting to hold onto her indignation, to make him feel the weight of his mistakes. But then he shifted closer, kneeling beside her, his hand hovering hesitantly over hers, trembling just enough that she thought it through the air between them. When she finally looked down, her breath caught. His eyes, usually so intense and unreadable, were soft, laced with a quiet desperation. A raw, unguarded worry poured from him, and for a moment, she glimpsed past his walls—the unfiltered ache that held her anger in a delicate grip. Her resolve faltered, a warmth rising in her chest as her defenses crumbled. She wanted to stay angry, to keep her heart armored, but the innocence in his gaze melted through, reaching the fragile places she'd thought were impenetrable. A sigh escaped her lips, unbidden, and her fingers softened, slowly releasing her fists. Without a word, she rested her hand on his shoulder, letting her anger fade into the silence.

"Ye..."

(This...)

She pointed her right index finger towards her shoulder, 

"Sahi nahi hai Vansh. Tumhe...tum"

(Is not right Vansh. You should...you've to...)

Vansh stood up quietly, sliding onto the bed beside her, his presence shielding her as if to absorb the weight of her unspoken turmoil. He could feel the heaviness that weighed her down, an unspeakable tension that left her unable to utter a single word. Without a word, he drew her into his arms, pulling her close until her face nestled against his chest, her trembling breaths grazing his skin. One arm wrapped firmly around her waist, while his other hand settled gently on the back of her head. He inhaled the soft scent of her hair, his eyelids drooping shut as a quiet calm washed over him. Riddhima's chest rose and fell against him, her breaths shallow and unsteady, and then her hands found their way to his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as though afraid to let go. They lingered like that, wrapped in a silence that was neither empty nor hollow, but rather thick with the silent exchange of all they couldn't say. Gradually, the weight between them eased, and the darkness of the room seemed to dissolve, replaced by an almost tangible warmth that settled over them. Vansh could feel her breathing slow, her body softening as she melted into his embrace, her head nuzzling deeper into his chest. She burrowed into him like a kitten finding shelter, the quiet giving way to a wordless comfort that seeped into their bones. In that moment, they found a fragile peace, clinging to each other as if nothing else existed beyond the steady heartbeat between them.

"Vansh..."

She softly whispered,

"Hmmm?"

"Mera Anupriya se milna zaruri hai..."

(It is a must that I meet Anupriya...)

 Vansh froze, his body turning to stone, every muscle tensing as her words settled like ice against his skin. A storm churned behind his eyes, the softness in his gaze hardening as though something dark had unfurled deep within him. He pulled away, inch by inch, his touch slipping from her waist, leaving a cold space where warmth had been. His jaw clenched, a slight twitch rippling through his features, but he kept his expression unreadable, controlled, even as his fingers curled into tight fists by his side. His chest rose in shallow, controlled breaths, each inhale sharply as he fought to contain the wild tension clawing at him. His gaze lingered on her, distant and guarded, and for a fleeting moment, his eyes betrayed a flicker of something raw and wounded—before he masked it, retreating further as he built a fortress between them, leaving her on the other side of his silence. Getting to his feet, he bent forward, one arm behind her waist and the other one under her knees, he picked her effortlessly, wordlessly. Making a round trip to the other side of the bed as he gently placed her on it, one knee on the soft mattress as he placed right in the middle, making her lean against the headboard, her hands around his neck refusing to budge when he tried to pull back.