The moment he pulled her in—
There was no pause this time.
Arsh's hand tightened at her waist, pulling her closer in one swift movement, like he didn't want even a breath of distance between them. And then his lips were on hers again—
Harder.
Deeper.
Like he was done holding back.
Aakrati gasped softly, her fingers gripping his shirt as he kissed her with an intensity that felt almost consuming. It wasn't gentle anymore—there was a kind of hunger in it, like he was trying to take in that moment completely.
He didn't rush.
But he didn't go slow either.
His hold stayed firm, steady, pulling her into him every time she even slightly shifted, like letting her go wasn't an option.
For a second, she tried to resist, her hands pressing against him—but the way he held her, the way he kissed her—
It pulled her right back.
Her grip changed.
From pushing—
To holding.
And just like that, she gave in again.
The kiss lingered, deep and overwhelming, like something he had wanted for too long and wasn't stopping now that he had it.
When he finally pulled back—
It wasn't because he wanted to.
It was because he had to.
The moment the intensity faded—
Reality hit him.
Hard.
Arsh pulled back, his breath still uneven, his hand still holding her like he hadn't fully come out of it yet. For a second, he just looked at her—
And then his expression changed.
Guilt.
Awareness.
Control—coming back.
"…sorry."
The word came out low, real this time.
Not casual.
Not careless.
Aakrati blinked, still trying to process everything that had just happened, her heart racing for completely different reasons now.
But she didn't question him.
Didn't ask why.
Didn't push him away.
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair before looking at her again, calmer now.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice steady, like he was grounding himself back into the situation.
And just like that—
She told him.
About the fall.
The uneven floor.
How she slipped.
How Krish just… caught her.
Simple.
Normal.
Nothing more.
Arsh listened quietly.
No interruption.
No reaction.
At least not outwardly.
He just nodded once.
Then started the car.
The drive this time was different.
Quieter.
But not uncomfortable.
He didn't take her back to her place.
He took her to his.
Aakrati didn't question it.
Didn't argue.
Maybe because she was still tired.
Maybe because she trusted him.
Maybe because…
She just let things happen around him.
Once they reached, Arsh got out first, came around, and opened her door.
This time—
Slower.
More careful.
He helped her out gently, one hand steady around her, making sure she didn't put pressure on her foot.
"Easy," he murmured.
Inside, everything felt calmer.
Quieter.
Safer.
He walked her to his room and made her sit on the bed before adjusting things around her—like he knew exactly what to do, like this version of him had always been there.
"Does it hurt?" he asked, kneeling slightly in front of her.
She nodded faintly.
"Little."
He didn't say anything else.
Just carefully took her foot in his hands, placing it gently on his lap.
Aakrati stiffened slightly at the sudden closeness.
"Arsh, it's fine, I can—"
"Relax," he said softly.
And then—
He started pressing lightly around her ankle.
Carefully.
Patiently.
There was no rush in his movements now.
No intensity.
No claim.
Just care.
Aakrati watched him quietly, her earlier confusion slowly settling into something else.
Because this—
This version of him—
Was different.
His fingers moved gently, adjusting pressure based on her reactions, his focus completely on her like nothing else mattered.
"Tell me if it hurts," he said without looking up.
She didn't reply immediately.
Because it didn't.
Not really.
What she felt instead—
Was something much harder to explain.
Just like that, everything shifted again.
The same Arsh who had been overwhelming just moments ago… was now careful. Controlled. Quietly attentive.
Aakrati informed Shrisha that she wouldn't be coming back tonight, keeping it simple, not explaining much. Shrisha didn't question—she could sense enough in her tone.
Meanwhile, Arsh didn't hover.
Didn't make her uncomfortable.
He gave her space.
He brought her clothes—simple, comfortable—placing them beside her without making a big deal out of it.
"You can change," he said casually, already turning away before she could even react.
And he left the room.
No lingering.
No unnecessary presence.
That alone made her pause.
Because he knew.
He knew she needed that space.
By the time she came out, the house felt… different.
Warm.
Calm.
From the kitchen, she could hear soft sounds—utensils, something being stirred.
She walked slowly, peeking in.
Arsh was cooking.
Focused. Quiet.
Like this was the most normal thing in the world.
"You didn't have to," she said softly.
He didn't even turn.
"I know."
Simple.
When the food was ready, he brought it to her instead of asking her to come.
Placed it in front of her.
Sat beside her.
"Eat."
Aakrati tried to manage on her own, but the moment she shifted, her foot protested again.
Arsh noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
Without saying much, he adjusted the plate, picked up a bite, and held it in front of her.
Aakrati blinked.
"Arsh…"
"Eat," he repeated, calmer this time.
She hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then gave in.
And just like that, he fed her.
Quietly.
Without teasing.
Without making her feel awkward.
There was something strangely comforting about it.
The way he didn't overdo anything.
Didn't ask for anything.
Just… took care of her.
Later, when everything settled, he made sure she was comfortable in his room.
Adjusted the pillows.
Checked her foot one last time.
"I'll be in the other room," he said.
Aakrati looked at him, slightly surprised.
"You don't have to—"
"I know," he cut in softly. "But you'll be more comfortable."
And that was it.
No argument.
No drama.
He left.
Closing the door halfway.
Giving her space—
But not distance.
Aakrati lay there, staring at the ceiling, her mind slowly catching up with everything.
The kiss.
The care.
The way he just… understood.
And somehow—
That affected her more than anything else.