Chapter 6:
It had been a few days since David returned.
In that short span of time, he found himself observing Yuvan closely—almost unconsciously. And no matter how much he tried to remain indifferent, he arrived at the same quiet conclusion every single time.
Yuvan was kind.
Gentle.
Polite.
And achingly innocent.
There was no trace of arrogance or malice in him—only a raw, unfiltered purity that revealed itself in the smallest of gestures.
David noticed everything.
The way Yuvan treated people—with genuine respect, never distinction.
The way he spoke to the servants, as though they were friends rather than subordinates.
The way his smile, warm and effortless, seemed capable of lighting up even the dullest corners of a room.
Yuvan was not merely a kind soul—he was like sunlight breaking through a long, relentless winter.
The Sterling mansion, once lifeless, cold, and steeped in silence, now felt different. Warmer. Brighter. Alive.
And somehow, without trying, Yuvan had changed it all.
---
Yuvan, too, had been quietly observing David since the day he arrived.
He noticed the silence that clung to him—the way David rarely spoke, rarely smiled, and almost always kept to himself. Most days, he confined himself either to his room or the garden, avoiding any real interaction.
Even within his own home, there was a distance—an invisible barrier that kept others away.
At first, Yuvan couldn't understand it.
He had tried asking the servants a few times, but their answers were always the same—brief, dismissive, and quickly followed by a change of subject.
"He has always been like that."
And that was the end of it.
---
One afternoon, David sat alone on a garden bench, his gaze fixed on the lilies swaying gently in the breeze.
Yuvan happened to pass by and noticed him.
After a brief hesitation, he walked over and took a seat beside him.
For a long while, neither of them spoke.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable—just heavy, as though it carried unspoken words waiting for the right moment.
Finally, David broke it.
"Before you came," he said quietly, his voice distant, "this mansion was dead."
Yuvan turned slightly, his brows knitting together.
"Why?" he asked softly.
David didn't answer immediately. His gaze lingered somewhere far away, lost in memories he couldn't escape.
Then, almost in a whisper, he said—
"Because of Violet… my wife."
The words hung in the air, heavy and fragile.
Yuvan fell silent.
---
"I married Violet when I was twenty-two," David began, his voice steady at first. "She was… everything to me."
A faint, broken smile touched his lips.
"Three years later, Sebastian was born. Life felt complete—filled with laughter, happiness, and love."
He paused, swallowing hard.
"Then, four years later, Theo came along. But during his birth… Violet lost a lot of blood."
His hands clenched slightly.
"They both survived. Barely. It was one of the hardest times of my life."
His voice grew quieter.
"But after that… her health was never the same."
A long silence followed.
"Then one day…"
His voice cracked.
Tears slipped down his face as he struggled to continue.
"She was gone."
The words shattered whatever composure he had left.
David broke down completely, burying his face in his hands as his shoulders trembled with the force of his grief.
Without a word, Yuvan moved closer and gently pulled him into an embrace, allowing him the space to let it all out.
---
When David finally calmed, his breathing uneven but steadier, Yuvan spoke—hesitantly at first.
"I was three," he said softly. "I lived with my parents in India."
He paused, gathering the courage to continue.
"One day… our house caught fire."
His voice faltered.
"I survived. But my parents… I—"
He couldn't finish.
"They died in that fire," he whispered instead. "I watched it happen. I watched the flames consume them… heard them scream for help."
His eyes filled with tears.
"But no one came in time."
Silence stretched between them, thick with shared pain.
"After that, Aunt Mabel came," Yuvan continued after a moment. "She took care of everything… and took me to Canada."
"Aunt Mabel and Uncle Richard raised me like their own. Later, Rose was born."
A faint softness entered his voice.
"Life became good again. But the memories never really left."
He wiped his tears.
"I used to have nightmares—again and again."
He exhaled slowly.
"But over time… they faded. The nightmares became less frequent."
A pause.
"And now… I can't even remember their faces. Or their voices."
---
They remained there for hours.
David spoke—about Violet, about the life he had lost—while Yuvan simply listened, offering quiet understanding in place of words.
And for the first time in years, something within David shifted.
That day, he felt lighter.
As though a weight he had carried for far too long had finally begun to lift.
The walls he had built around himself—strong, silent, unyielding—
Finally began to break.
*:..｡o To be continue o｡..:*