Aira:

The room felt colder tonight, as if the walls themselves had leaned in closer, conspiring to smother me. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the faint glow of the lamp on the side table. I reached out for it and turned it off. The darkness wasn't just outside - it had seeped into every corner of my mind.

I pressed my palms together, trying to ground myself, but my fingers trembled against each other. The air seemed thick, heavy with the kind of silence that wasn't quiet but loud, roaring in my ears like the ghost of every unsaid word.

The darkness that I once became familiar with had started to scare me again but after what happened two days ago, I seemed to be losing my sanity to the same dankness I fear so much.

It was eating out my thoughts, consuming me whole.

A monster underneath my bed warned me against being in the darkness. My anxiety seemed to be on alert, voice aching to be out of my strangling throat and yet I kept my screams in.

I wasn't sure how long I had been sitting there in the dark. Minutes? Hours? Time had lost its meaning. My thoughts swirled into a cyclone, each one darker than the last, pulling me into their relentless spin.

I didn't want to cry, but the tears came anyway, unbidden, hot, and stinging against my cheeks. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to block out the images flashing through my mind - the emotions in his eyes and worse, the emptiness that seemed to stretch endlessly before me.

Was it all catching up to me? The fear? The suffocation? The knowledge that no matter how hard I tried to keep moving forward, the shadows would always find me, dragging me back into their clutches.

He will ruin me, just like he promised and I will have nothing left to be me.

"Stop," I whispered, my voice cracking in the stillness. "Just stop."

But the darkness didn't stop. It pressed harder, curling its fingers around my chest.

And then, I thought of them - my parents. My anchors. The two people in the world who could hold me when I fell apart, who could piece me back together when I shattered. My mind spiraled further, and suddenly I was in another place, another time.

I could see my mother's face, her warm smile crinkling at the edges as she brushed my hair back from my forehead. "You are stronger than you think, Aira," she'd always say, her voice like a balm on my weary soul. And my father, his quiet strength radiating from every reassuring word, "You have got this, sweetheart. We are right here."

And Armaan who was always beside me to have my back.

But they weren't here. Not now. Not when the shadows were winning.

I lay back on the bed, curling into myself as the tears came harder, my body shaking with the force of them. I clutched the pillow tightly, as if it could somehow hold the pieces of me together. The loneliness clawed at me, sharper than ever, a constant reminder of what I couldn't reach.

"I need you," I whispered to the void. "I need you both Mom, Dad and Armaan."

For a moment, I could almost hear my mother's voice again, soothing and gentle. "We are proud of you, sweetheart. Just keep going."

But the moment passed, leaving only silence.

They weren't here anymore. They weren't in my life and they didn't want me in theirs. He had made sure of it.

My father had abandoned me and I had deserved it when I choose him over my father.

I pulled the blanket up to my chin, trying to block out the world, trying to escape the crushing weight of the dark thoughts. My chest heaved as I fought to steady my breathing, to stop the storm raging inside me.

The night stretched on, and I stayed frozen in that place, somewhere between despair and longing. And for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to admit the truth:

I wasn't okay. I was unraveling.

I was scared, I feared the monster who claimed to one day dig his claws deep in me and ruin me.

And all I wanted - no, all I needed - was to run away. Mostly to my family. My parents. My brother. Their strength. Their love.

I closed my eyes, clutching tightly to their memory, hoping it would be enough to get me through the night.

Like it had been these past days.

I had been ignoring everything constantly, sleeping myself off, doing random things to let go of the darkness dragging me in.

But I couldn't ignore it anymore, I couldn't fight it off anymore.

No matter how much i tried to delude myself, I stood no chance against him. My little acts of rebellion turn around and haunt me and he lets me win only until he does.

When he snaps, he makes sure to throttle me out of my breaths.

He did it this time, nearly killed me and all I could see in his eyes was a conflicted emotion which left me confused whether he was guilty he almost killed me or confused about why he left me alive.

The darkness was winning. And neither was I 13 and neither were he my parents who could guide me out of it.

The darkness was alive, breathing, whispering lies I didn't want to hear. I sat up abruptly, my chest tight as though the air was being siphoned out of me. My fingers trembled as they gripped the edge of the bed. I couldn't keep sitting here, drowning in silence.

And yet I couldn't find any ounce of strength left in me to urge myself to move from my space and do something rather than wallowing in self pity when I realised the sunlight sleeping through the window.

I hadn't realized it was already morning.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the far corner, my thoughts again swirling in an endless loop of memories, fears, and the crushing weight of isolation.

I hadn't eaten since yesterday. The hunger gnawed at my stomach, but it was easier to ignore than the ache in my chest.

A knock sounded at the door, breaking the stillness.

"Aira?" Vyom's voice was firm but not harsh, carrying a weight of authority that refused to be ignored. "Open the door."

Atleast, he didn't come himself.

I didn't respond, didn't even flinch, would have if it was him on the other side of the door. I kept my gaze fixed on the floor, my hands gripping the edge of the mattress.

The knock came again, sharper this time. "I brought you food. Don't make me use the key."

Ofcourse, they had keys to the room. I am surprised he even let me lock myself inside the room but then again he only let me lock the room from inside until he allowed it.

Still, I remained silent.

A moment of quiet passed, followed by the faint jingle of keys. My body tensed as the lock clicked, and the door creaked open.

Vyom stepped in, his presence filling the room, no less intimidating than his boss who seemed to have spared me the misery of looking at his face.

His sharp eyes scanned me, his brows knitting together when he saw me sitting motionless on the bed.

If I didn't know any better, I might have thought he was pitying me but I knew better.

Vyom was a shadow of his first in command, his boss. I had noticed it, observed it, judged it and came to the conclusion that they both were equally an insignificant piece that shouldn't have been on this earth.

Well, maybe Vyom could be given the benefit of doubt but his boss was an unhinged psychopath who deserved nothing less than being sent to the outer space where he could play his stupid games with the aliens.

He held a tray of food in one hand, setting it down on the small table near the door.

I stared at him for a beat, my gaze flitting briefly to the tray he set down before returning to my lap.

His Majesty's second-in-command considers me nothing but a fool.

We had barely interacted, but I could feel the weight of his judgment every time our paths crossed. To him, I was a nuisance - a rebellious distraction that refused to fall in line to his boss.

He lingered by the table, his arms crossing over his chest. "You should eat," he said, his tone devoid of patience.

I didn't move, didn't acknowledge him.

The corners of my mouth twitched upward in a bitter smile. He wasn't here out of concern. Vyom didn't care whether I starved myself into oblivion or decided to jump out the nearest window. No, he was here because I was, unfortunately, his boss's problem.

"You are not going to pass some stupid remark?" he asked, his voice laced with something close to irritation.

I looked up meeting his eyes, and stared the reflection of me I'm them.

To him, I was audacious, reckless - unwilling to bow to the authority his boss seemed to wield so effortlessly.

And like the ever-so-loyal soldier he was, Vyom despised me for it. For not bending, for not breaking, for not falling in line the way his boss had.

He would risk his life for his boss without a second thought - the loyalty in his veins was almost a religion. And here I was, standing - no, sitting - against the very current of his belief system, daring to defy the order his world revolved around

I dropped my gaze to the threadbare edge of my blanket, running my fingers over the frayed fabric. It wasn't worth engaging. Not when I knew exactly what he thought of me.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before stepping closer, "You can't keep doing this to yourself," he said.

"You still think this is some game, don't you?" he pressed, his voice softening just slightly, though it did nothing to hide his frustration. "Refusing food, locking yourself away - do you think it bothers anyone but yourself?"

That stung, though I refused to show it. I wasn't playing a game. This wasn't some petty act of defiance. It was emptiness - or at least an attempt to regain some semblance of control over a life that no longer felt like my own.

I looked up then, meeting his gaze with a steadiness I didn't feel. "Why are you here, Vyom?" My voice was quiet but deliberate.

I knew the answer, his boss asked him to feed me.

His jaw tightened, a flicker of something - annoyance, maybe - crossing his face. "Because you are making it impossible for him to ignore you," he said bluntly.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. "I didn't realize I was so important to your 'him'."

The venom in my voice had managed to even take me by surprise.

"You are not," he replied, the words cutting cleanly through the air with a quite 'hopefully' that left his lips. "But you have managed to occupy more of his time than you should. That's not something to be proud of."

The ache in my chest grew heavier, but I refused to let him see it. "Then leave," I said, forcing my voice to stay even. "I don't need your pity or your lectures."

"Pity?" His brows shot up, his expression hardening. "Trust me, Aira, pity is the last thing I feel for you."

I flinched, the sharpness of his tone catching me off guard.

Almost forgot, he only feels pity for people his boss pity which is equivalent to none.

Does this man not have a personality rather than taking his boss's shadow captive?

Vyom sighed, dragging a hand down his face as if trying to rein in his temper. "Look," he said finally, his voice quieter now. "You don't have to eat if you don't want to. You don't even have to talk. But if you think this... whatever it is you are doing, is going to solve anything, you are wrong."

As if I didn't know that already genius.

He reached into his pocket then, pulling out a sleek black phone and holding it out to me.

My breath caught, surprise flickering across my face. "What...?"

Did he atleast know that his boss didn't allow me a phone?

"You want control?" he said, his tone steady. "Here is a start. Call someone. Your family. A friend. You need to talk to someone, whoever you think will fix whatever it is that's breaking you right now."

I stared at the phone, my mind reeling. This wasn't the Vyom I had come to know - or at least the version of him I thought I knew. The one who looked at me like I was nothing more than a stubborn inconvenience.

Vyom noticed. "Take it," he said, holding it out toward me.

I shook my head slightly, the motion almost imperceptible.

When I didn't move, he added, "Take it. Or don't. I really don't care. But don't sit here acting like the world is collapsing around you while you do nothing to stop it."

Something inside me cracked at his words, his bluntness cutting through the fog in my mind. Slowly, hesitantly, I reached for the phone.

My fingers brushed his as I took it, and for a moment, I thought I saw something softer in his gaze. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the cool detachment I had grown accustomed to.

I stared down at the device in my hands, my reflection staring back at me in the dark screen. It felt like the smallest crack of freedom.

And yet, I hesitated.

"Why?" My voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

"You seem like you are on the verge of edging to the darkness and no matter what he says he wouldn't want that." He said, his voice steady but not unkind.

"Not yet, atleast," He mumbled under his breath.

The sheer audacity of his words caught me off guard.

Who wouldn't want me edging closer to darkness?

The person who pushed me into it?

I still hesitated, my fingers twitching as I stared at the phone. For a long moment, I did nothing.

Then, like something inside me snapped, I reached for it. My hands trembled as I held it, staring at the screen.

Vyom straightened, stepping back to give me space. "Make the call," he said simply, crossing his arms.

I took a shaky breath, my thumb hovering over the keypad. The first number that came to mind wasn't the one I dialed. I wanted to call my Dad, to hear his voice, to feel the comfort of home even if just for a moment.

But my heart clenched at the thought. If he heard the fear in my voice, he would worry. He didn't deserve that.

But more than that I was scared he will tell me off. Refuse to talk to me.

That scared me more than my impemding death which seemed to loom closer than I thought.

Instead, I dialed the next number my heart ached for.

It rang twice before the line connected.

"Hello?" His voice was sharp, polite, and so achingly familiar.

My breath caught, the lump in my throat making it impossible to speak.

"Hello?"

Still no response.

"Who is this?" he demanded, his tone growing irritated. "If you think this is funny..."

I hung up, my hands shaking so badly I nearly dropped the phone.

"You are wasting time," Vyom said from where he stood, his tone neither mocking nor encouraging. "Call again."

I did.

This time, he answered on the first ring. "Hello?"

I didn't respond.

"Who is this?" he demanded, his voice colder, angrier.

A silent sob escaped me.

There was a pause, and I heard the shift in his tone - softer, sharp, almost incredulous, "Aira?"

I couldn't speak. The words were lodged in my throat, stuck behind the weight of my emotions.

The way he said my name - laced with equal parts disdain and longing - broke something inside me. Tears spilled over, silent and unstoppable.

"Aira," he said again, this time colder.

I bit my lip, trying to stifle the sobs that were threatening to escape.

The way he said my name broke something inside me. The tears I had been holding back spilled over, and I clutched the phone tighter as a sob escaped my lips.

"Aira," he repeated, his tone sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. "What do you want? Why now?"

I swallowed hard, my throat dry and aching, but I still couldn't find the words. The sobs I tried to suppress only seemed louder in the silence.

"Answer me, damn it!" he snapped, his anger bubbling over. "You chose this, Aira. You chose to stay away from us. So why the hell are you calling me now?"

The venom in his words pierced through me, but it wasn't undeserved. I had made my choices, and now I was paying the price for them.

But he didn't stop. His anger fueled his words, each one landing like a blow. "Do you even know what you have put us through? What you have done to us? To Mom Dad? To me? You can't just..."

He stopped suddenly, and the silence that followed was deafening. I heard him take a breath, shaky and uneven, as if trying to rein in the storm that was raging inside him.

Then his tone shifted, no longer cold but strained, tinged with something dangerously close to fear. "Aira," he said again, softer now. "What's going on? Why are you... Why are you crying?"

My grip on the phone tightened, the dam of my emotions threatening to break.

"Are you..." His voice faltered for the briefest moment. "Are you okay?"

A choked sob escaped me, and I hated myself for it. I hated that I couldn't even answer him, that I was too consumed by everything to say a single word.

Though I didn't look up from the phone, I felt the shift in the room. Vyom's presence, so unwavering and commanding, suddenly became distant.

When I glanced toward the door, I caught the faintest movement of him stepping out, closing it behind him without a word. No sharp remarks, no impatient sighs - just silence.

He had simply left me with this moment - this precious, stolen moment of solitude.

And for that, I was thankful.

"Aira, talk to me!" My brother's voice was urgent now, the protective edge I knew so well cutting through his anger.

"Aira, what's wrong? Tell me." he urged, his voice growing more desperate. "Where are you? Are you hurt?"

I shook my head, even though he couldn't see me.

"Aira, damn it, say something!" His voice cracked, the frustration giving way to something raw, something vulnerable.

But I couldn't. All I could do was cry, the sound muffled as I pressed my lips together.

"Aira…" His voice softened again, almost pleading. "Please, just tell me you are okay." he demanded, his voice breaking just slightly. "I - I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

I opened my mouth, desperate to speak, to say something, but all that came out was another quiet sob.

"Aira," he said again, and this time his voice was gentler, softer, as if he was trying to coax the words out of me. "Please baby... whatever it is, just tell me. I will..." He hesitated, but only for a moment. "I will fix it. Just tell me what's wrong."

I closed my eyes, my tears falling freely now, but I still couldn't bring myself to speak. I wanted to believe him, to believe that he could somehow fix this, but I knew better. There were no easy fixes, not for this.

He could help me convince Dad to forgive me.

But even that was impossible becuase as long as it's upto him, he will never let me see them again.

His sigh was heavy, filled with frustration and worry. "You are killing me here, Aira," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just... please, say something. I am right here."

My brother didn't hate me.

He didn't hate me for choosing his my husband over my family.

The weight of his words, of his concern, was too much. I bit down on my lip, trying to hold it all in, but it was useless. My resolve crumbled, and I whispered the only thing I could manage.

"I am sorry."

It was barely audible, just a breath of sound, but it was enough.

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than I had ever heard it. "Aira, baby what's going on?"

I shook my head again, the tears falling faster now. "I am sorry," I repeated, my voice breaking.

"No, don't give in to the darkness that feeds on you Aira." he said firmly, his tone a strange mix of gentle and commanding. "Listen to me okay? And please focus."

I was reminded of how my brother took that suicidal urge of mine away from me and helped me look at life with a different perspective.

And maybe, just maybe that's the perspective I needed again to come out this alive.

I pressed my free hand to my mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that were threatening to take over. I wanted to tell him, to let him in, but I couldn't. The words wouldn't come, no matter how hard I tried.

"Aira," he said again, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "I don't hate you baby and neither does Mom and Dad. Whatever it is that has you thinking that life is not worth living, let go of that thought."

And that was my undoing. The tears came harder, my sobs shaking my entire body. I wanted to believe him, to trust that he meant it, but the darkness I was drowning in wouldn't let me.

I tried to speak, to push past the lump in my throat, but all that came out was a broken, "I can't."

"You can," he said firmly, his voice filled with quiet determination. "You have always been way stronger than you think Aira. Do you remember what I told you back then? When you thought you couldn't fight anymore?"

I closed my eyes, his words pulling me back to the time when my family's unwavering love for me what the only thing that helped me make it out alive.

You are not allowed to give up, Aira. Not when we are here. Your family.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"Good," he said, and I could hear the faintest hint of relief in his voice. "Then listen to me now. Whatever this is, whatever is happening, it's not bigger than you. You have faced worse and come out stronger. You are not alone in this, Aira. Do you hear me? You are not alone."

I bit down on my trembling lip, his words wrapping around me like a lifeline. I wanted to believe him, to cling to the hope he was offering, but the weight of everything I had been through felt insurmountable.

"I miss you," I whispered, the words spilling out before I could stop them. They were raw, unfiltered, and laced with all the pain I had been carrying for so long.

His breath hitched on the other end of the line. "I miss you too," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "We all do, Aira. Mom and Dad... even though he claims not to care for you anymore, they are worried sick about you. They love you. We love you."

The mention of my parents brought a fresh wave of tears. I could picture their faces, their warmth, their unwavering love.

I had been so consumed by my own darkness that I had called my brother, forgot about the warning he gave me. I endangered my brother's life because I couldn't handle my near death experience.

"I am sorry," I whispered again, my voice barely audible through my tears. "I am so, so sorry."

"Aira," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "Don't do this. Don't shut me out again."

But I already had.

I hung up before he could say anything else, the weight of his words and my silence suffocating me. The phone slipped from my hand and landed on the bed beside me, but I didn't move to pick it up.

I just sat there, staring at the wall, the echo of his voice lingering in the empty room.

The phone was suddenly picked up from the bed. I looked up, startled, to see Vyom holding it.

His gaze was unreadable as he stood there holding the phone, his eyes flickering between it and me. For a moment, I thought he might say something hurtful, but he surprised me. His voice, low and measured, broke the heavy silence.

"I will leave the food here," he said, gesturing toward the tray he had set down earlier. "You should eat, Aira."

I blinked at him, unable to form a response. He stared at me for a moment longer, then sighed, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. Without another word, he kept his phone in his pocket, turned on his heel, and walked to the door.

He paused briefly at the threshold, his back to me. "Take care of yourself." he said quietly before stepping out and closing the door softly behind him.

Slowly, I stood, my legs shaky beneath me. My reflection in the mirror caught my attention. My disheveled hair, puffy eyes, and tear-streaked face looked back at me like a stranger.

The urge to feel clean, to feel like myself again, tugged at me. I grabbed a fresh towel and stepped into the bathroom, letting the warm water cascade over me. The heat seeped into my skin, washing away the remnants of my tears and the weight of my despair, even if only temporarily.

By the time I stepped out, my thoughts felt a little clearer. I dried off, slipped into fresh clothes, and returned to the bedroom. My eyes fell on the tray Vyom had left. The aroma of the food stirred something in me - something small but vital.

I sat down, hesitantly picking at the meal. Each bite felt like a step forward, like a reminder that I still had the strength to fight back, to keep going.

As I finished the last morsel, a tiny flicker of determination settled in my chest. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

I wasn't going to give up so soon.

I wasn't going to lose to him.

I was going to survive.

Only if I knew, it was nothing but my stubbornness speaking because I had no power other than my own will to yeild it like a weapon in front of him.

𐙚⋆°🦢.⋆ᥫ᭡

Chapter 20 of Ishq is hua is finally out on wattpad.

Please engage kr lo bhai sb 🙂‍↔️

And I promised regular updates so now on that's how it would be <3