Vasu's POV
I was waiting in the cafeteria for Madhu, my heart pounding harder with every passing second. I had already bought her a sandwich and coffee, though I doubted she would notice them at all—my mind was too busy imagining her reaction. As I tried to steady myself, I called the agency I had booked to decorate my home. Everything was set.
A quiet pathway of rose petals, guiding her steps.
A candlelight dinner waiting at the end.
Her favorites—noodles, paneer tikka, and orange juice.
This wasn't just a surprise.
It was a question my heart had been asking for months.
If she said yes, I would plan a lifetime.
If she didn't… I didn't let myself finish that thought.
Lost in this storm of emotions, I suddenly heard a voice behind me.
"Mr. Vasu."
I inhaled deeply and turned around.
There she was.
Madhu stood in front of me, wearing a white churidar that flowed all the way to her toes, wrapped in a soft, multicolored shawl. A black metal necklace rested against her collarbone, and her earrings swayed gently, brushing her cheeks when she moved. Bangles adorned one wrist, while a watch circled the other. Her hair was half-secured with a clutch clip, the rest falling freely, grazing her forearms.
She didn't just look beautiful.
She looked like the moment I had been waiting for.
Without realizing it, my feet carried me toward her. My hand reached up instinctively, removing the clutch clip from her hair. I let her hair fall loose, carefully adjusting it until it framed her face perfectly.
"Now it's perfect," I murmured, smiling softly.
She looked at me, confusion clouding her eyes—but beneath it, I saw something else. Vulnerability. Curiosity. Fear.
I reached for her hand and interlocked my fingers with hers, grounding myself in the warmth of her skin.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked, her voice restless, uncertain.
I met her gaze, my heart laid bare.
"I'll tell you," I said gently. "But first… we need to get out of here."
I led her toward the parking lot, every step heavy with anticipation.
She didn't speak.
And that silence terrified me more than words ever could.
The moment we reached the parking lot, she suddenly pulled her hand away.
I froze.
I turned toward her, startled, trying to understand the fear that had suddenly risen in her eyes.
"Please tell me," she asked, her voice shaking. "Where are you taking me? Why are you doing this to me?"
Her words pierced straight through me.
"Madhu," I said softly, taking a step closer. "What are you talking about? I don't understand."
Her breath trembled. Tears welled up as she struggled to hold herself together.
"This… Mr. Vasu," she whispered. "This care you show me. This attention. This way you look at me. Why?"
Her voice broke.
"Why are you doing all this?"
Seeing her like that—afraid, uncertain, questioning her worth—hurt more than anything I had ever faced.
I let out a slow breath.
This was it.
There was no more running.
No more hiding behind silence.
I had to reassure her—not as a protector, not as a friend—But as the man who loved her.
I took a step toward her, wanting nothing more than to comfort her—but she stepped back instantly, widening the distance between us.
"Please… don't move," I pleaded, my voice soft yet urgent.
To my surprise, she froze.
I closed the space between us slowly, carefully, until there was no distance left—until the air itself seemed to hold its breath. Her fingers were clenched tightly around her handbag, her knuckles pale, betraying the fear and uncertainty raging inside her.
Gently, I cupped her cheek. My thumb brushed away the tears slipping down her skin, each one cutting straight into my heart.
Seeing her like this—scared, fragile, doubting—hurt more than anything I had ever faced.
"I will tell you everything," I said quietly, my forehead almost touching hers. "Every question running through your mind—you can ask me. I promise."
Our eyes locked, raw and unguarded.
"But not here," I continued softly. "I want to take you somewhere safe… somewhere I can answer everything without fear."
Slowly, I removed my hand from her face.
"Go sit in the car," I said gently. "I'll join you in a minute. I just need to make a phone call."
She nodded, her expression a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and lingering fear.
I turned away and exhaled deeply before pulling my phone from my pocket and calling Karan.
After a few rings, he answered.
"Have you told her?" he asked immediately.
"No," I admitted, my breath uneven. "She's scared, Karan. And now… I'm scared too. I don't know how to handle this."
He scoffed softly. "Dumbass, you've got this. She's scared because no one has ever cared for her the way you do." He paused, then added, "You know what? Maybe I should just call her and tell her everything."
My heart nearly stopped.
"No—no! You won't," I stammered. "I will. I promise. I'll tell her."
"Then don't waste any more time," he said firmly before hanging up.
I stood there for a moment, steadying myself, then got into the car and drove out of the parking lot, merging onto the highway.
I was taking her home—my home—but she couldn't know that yet.
To avoid suspicion, I took a longer route. She remained silent the entire drive, her stillness louder than words.
After some time, I slowed the car and stopped.
She turned toward me, confusion flickering in her eyes.
"Can I ask you a favor?" I said gently.
She nodded.
I handed her a blindfold. "Please wear this. There's a surprise for you."
Her eyes widened instantly. "What? A blindfold?"
I smiled softly. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Trust me."
She hesitated, holding it in her hand but not putting it on.
"Until you wear it," I said firmly but calmly, "I won't drive."
She frowned, clearly annoyed—but after a moment, she sighed.
"Okay… fine," she murmured, slipping it on.
Relief washed over me.
Within minutes, we reached home. I parked the car, and just as she reached up to remove the blindfold—
"No… no… not yet," I said quickly, catching her hand. "Don't remove it until I say so."
She let out a small huff. "Okay, fine. But how am I supposed to get out of the car like this?"
I couldn't help but smile.
"That's why I'm here."
I stepped out and opened her door. Her hands lifted instinctively, searching for something—anything—to hold onto.
I took her hand firmly and helped her out of the car.
She was trembling.
I could feel it—the fear, the uncertainty, the weight of everything she wasn't saying. If she tried to walk like this, she would fall.
There was no other option.
I tightened my grip on her hand, stepping closer, ready to hold her—ready to be the place where she wouldn't fall anymore.
"Madhu… wait," I groaned softly as I lifted her into my arms.
"What are you doing?" she cried instantly, panic breaking through her voice.
"Vasu—put me down! I'm scared… please! At least let me remove the blindfold!"
She struggled against me, her hands clutching my shoulders, her body trembling—but I didn't answer. I couldn't. If I spoke now, my voice would betray me.
I carried her from the parking lot toward my front door, every step echoing with her fear and my racing heartbeat. When we reached the door, I gently placed her back on her feet. She stood unsteady, breathless—but safe.
I pushed the door open.
For a split second, even I froze.
The soft glow of candlelight spilled across the room. Rose petals lined the floor like a silent confession, leading deeper inside. The air was warm, heavy with the scent of flowers and something fragile—hope.
She sensed it before she saw it.
I took her hand, guiding her inside, then quietly took her bag and loosened the blindfold. Before she could reach for me, I stepped away—out of her line of sight.
The blindfold slipped off.
She gasped.
Her hands flew to her mouth, her breath hitching as her eyes filled instantly with tears. Confusion, shock, disbelief—every emotion crashed over her at once.
"What… what is this?" she whispered, her voice shaking.
"What is all this, Mr. Vasu?"
She turned around desperately, searching for me.
"Mr. Vasu… please come in front of me," she begged.
"What is this about? Please… don't do this to me…"
Her voice cracked.
"Please… don't play with me. Don't play with my emotions," she sobbed.
"I beg you… please…"
She covered her face and broke down completely.
That was it.
I couldn't watch her fall apart—not because of me.
I stepped forward, a bouquet of flowers trembling slightly in my hands.
"Hey… hey… shhh… shhh…" I whispered, closing the distance between us.
"I'm not playing with you. I swear. Not even for a second."
She looked at me, eyes wide, terrified.
"I want to tell you something," I said, my voice barely steady.
"No—everything. But please… just one thing."
Her body shook as she stepped back.
"No…" she whispered. "I want to go home… please…"
Her fear sliced straight through me.
I exhaled, forcing myself to stay calm.
"Please," I said softly, my voice breaking for the first time.
"Just let me speak. After I finish… you can do whatever you want. I promise."
She stared at me, tears spilling silently.
After a long, painful moment, she nodded.
"Okay… Mr. Vasu," she whispered, wiping her cheeks, trying to steady herself.
I swallowed hard.
"First thing," I said gently, taking one step toward her,
"don't call me Mr. Vasu anymore. I'm not your superior. I'm not someone above you."
Her eyes never left mine.
"When I saw you for the first time at the airport," I continued, a nervous breath escaping me,
"I fell in love with you. Instantly. Call it love at first sight if you want."
A shaky laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
"But the moment I realized you were my partner's sister… my world tilted. I backed away—not because I stopped loving you, but because I didn't want to break your bond with your brother."
I stepped closer—so close that only a breath separated us.
"But loving you wasn't something I could control," I whispered.
"It didn't fade. It didn't weaken."
My voice cracked.
"It grew. Every single day. Until you became the only place my heart knows."
Tears streamed down her face.
I lifted my hand and gently wiped them away, my thumb trembling against her skin. Then—slowly—I stepped back.
I dropped to one knee.
The room went silent.
Holding the flowers out to her, I looked up—bare, terrified, hopeful.
"I love you, Madhu Krishana," I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.
"Just the way you are. And I will love you until my last breath."
She didn't move.
She didn't speak.
She stood frozen—caught between disbelief and destiny—while my heart waited, completely exposed.
Madhus POV
Madhu's POV
I didn't move.
Not a step toward him.
Not a word.
Silence wrapped itself around us—thick, crushing, almost cruel.
He was still on one knee.
Still holding the flowers out to me like an offering.
Like a risk.
And my heart—God, my heart—felt like it was standing exposed, with no armor left.
Then I laughed.
It broke out of me before I could stop it.
Not joy.
Not mockery.
Something fractured.
"You… love me?" I whispered, disbelief burning my throat.
I shook my head, breath uneven.
"I'm not easy to love," I said, forcing the truth out before fear could choke it. "I come with panic attacks. With fear. With scars you didn't cause but will have to live with."
"Madhu—"
"No."
The word came sharp, stubborn. A shield.
"I've been rejected before," I continued, my voice rising despite myself. "Not gently. Not kindly. I was told I was too much. Too heavy. Too broken."
Each word hurt.
But I refused to swallow them back.
"What happens when reality hits you?" I demanded. "When I faint again? When I wake up shaking in the middle of the night? When loving me becomes exhausting?"
He stepped forward.
I stepped back—twice—until my spine met the wall.
"I would rather stay alone," I said hoarsely, "than be abandoned again."
That was when he stood.
He walked to me.
I tried to retreat, but there was nowhere left to go.
He didn't touch me.
Didn't trap me.
Just placed his hands on the wall beside my shoulders, close enough that I could feel his warmth—his breath—but gentle enough to leave me a choice.
Then he rested his forehead against mine.
"You listen to me now," he said quietly. Fiercely. "I am not here because I think you're easy."
My breath hitched despite myself.
"I'm here because I know you're hard," he continued. "And I choose you anyway."
Something inside me cracked—not loudly. Not dramatically.
Softly.
"I choose your panic attacks. Your fears. Your scars. Your silences."
I couldn't speak.
My lips trembled. My chest felt too tight to breathe.
"I'm tired, Vasu," I whispered. Not angry. Not dramatic. Just… exhausted.
My knees weakened. I shook my head, fighting the pull, the hope.
"But when you look at me like this," I sobbed, "when you care like this—it terrifies me. Because if you leave… I don't know if I'll survive it again."
A voice inside me—small, stubborn, brave—spoke up.
What are you waiting for?
He's standing right here.
Don't let fear steal this too.
Then—before doubt could crawl back in—I sank down in front of him and wrapped my arms around his waist.
I pressed my face into his chest.
His scent. His warmth. His steady heartbeat.
Real.
So real it hurt.
He hugged me instantly—tight, sure—as if letting go was no longer an option.
And for the first time in my life…
I didn't want an escape.
Tell him, my heart urged.
Tell him everything.
"I love you too," I said softly, my voice shaking. "And you have no idea how deeply."
I swallowed hard.
"I've been in love with you since the day I met you at the airport."
His body stilled.
"What?" he breathed.
He helped me to my feet, and the moment I stood, his arms wrapped around me again—too close for lies, too close for fear.
"Tell me everything," he said gently.
I clutched his coat like it was the only thing keeping me upright.
"I fell for you the moment I saw you," I confessed. "But when my brother introduced you as his partner, I stepped back. I told myself loving you was forbidden."
My voice cracked.
"I tried not to love you. But every smile, every word, every time you cared—it pulled me deeper. I was terrified you'd reject me. I didn't want to destroy your friendship, our families… so I chose silence. Even though it was killing me."
Tears fell freely now.
His grip tightened. One hand cupped my face, wiping my tears with unbearable tenderness.
"Crazy girl," he whispered. "You carried all that alone."
His forehead rested against mine.
"You are the most precious thing in my life," he said, voice breaking. "Someone to be protected—not pushed aside."
I tried to speak, but sobs won.
"Shhh," he murmured, pulling me into his chest. "I'm here. Always. Forever."
His arms held me firm, grounding me.
"Because you are mine."
I smiled through tears.
"I love you," I whispered. "So much."
I met his gaze, heart bare.
"I love you to the moon and back, Vasudevan Prabakaran."
His smile stole my breath.
He lifted me suddenly, spinning me around, laughter spilling from him like relief. When he set me down, embarrassed warmth rushed to my cheeks.
"Look at me, Madhu."
When I did, I knew.
This wasn't just love.
This was home.
He cupped my face, thumbs brushing away the last tears. The world felt paused—quiet, reverent.
"Look at me," he whispered again.
I did.
No walls. No guards. Just us.
He leaned in slowly—giving me time, giving me choice.
Our noses brushed.
I closed my eyes.
His lips touched mine—soft, tentative. A question.
I answered.
The kiss deepened, not rushed, not desperate—just two hearts finally brave enough to stay.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine.
"That," he whispered, "was worth every second of waiting."
I smiled, tears still clinging to my lashes.
"So were you."
And in that quiet space between heartbeats, I knew—
This wasn't just the beginning of love.
It was the beginning of everything.
Vasu's POV
After her confession—after hearing her say she loved me too—something deep inside my chest finally eased. My heart, which had been racing for days, slowed into a steady rhythm, as if it had finally found its home. Relief, happiness, and disbelief washed over me all at once.
I held her longer than necessary, unwilling to let go. With her in my arms, the world softened. The noise faded. Everything felt quiet… safe.
"Can I ask you something?" she murmured, her voice small but brave.
I nodded, my thumb tracing slow, comforting circles over her arm.
"I've been hungry since afternoon," she admitted shyly. "I haven't eaten anything… and my stomach is starting to make sounds."
A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.
"It's not funny, Vasu," she protested, her cheeks flushing as she looked away.
Smiling, I gently turned her until her back rested against my chest. I lowered my head to her shoulder, my arms settling naturally around her waist—as if they belonged there. I inhaled her familiar scent and whispered near her ear,
"The dinner is ready, sweetheart."
I pressed a soft kiss just below her ear—slow, unhurried, intentional. She gasped, and the sound alone sent a quiet thrill straight through me.
"Go freshen up," I murmured, my lips brushing her skin. "I'll set the table."
She nodded, still a little breathless, and slipped away into the bathroom.
A few minutes later, I heard hurried footsteps.
"Where are you?" she called softly, peeking into the kitchen.
"Over here," I replied from the dining area.
She rushed toward me and instinctively held onto my arms, as if grounding herself in my presence. "What's for dinner?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Instead of answering, I leaned down and kissed her forehead—slow and tender, like a promise.
"Your favorites," I said quietly.
Just then, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw Karan's name flash across the screen. With a soft sigh, I handed the phone to her.
"Take a look for yourself," I said with a small smile. "I need to take this call."
She nodded, still smiling, completely unaware that this night held more than just dinner.
And as I walked away to answer the call, one thought settled firmly in my heart—
She's here.
She chose me.
And I will never let her feel alone again.
Vasu's POV
I stepped into the living room and dialed Karan. After a few rings, he answered.
"Yeah, buddy," I said calmly.
"What happened, Vasu? Did you tell her or not?" he demanded, panic sharp in his voice.
"And why do I see your car in the parking lot? Dumbass, where are you?"
I sighed softly. "Relax. I'm home. See for yourself."
I pulled the curtain aside just enough for him to catch a glimpse through the window.
"What the hell are you doing?" he shouted. "I'm going to kill you, idiot! If you're home, then where is my sister? Answer me!"
Before I could respond, I heard her voice drift in from the dining area—warm, familiar, grounding.
"Vasu… how much longer will you be on the call?"
"I'm coming, Madhu," I replied, smiling without realizing it.
I raised one eyebrow at the window. Karan froze.
"If she's with you," he said slowly, "that means you told her… and her answer is yes."
"Yes, buddy," I said simply. "We'll talk later. My girl is waiting for me."
I hung up before he could say anything else.
---
When I reached the dining area, her eyes lit up.
"You ordered
everything," she said softly, almost in awe. "These are all my favorites."
We ate slowly,
unhurried, talking about little things—hospital chaos, childhood memories,
random laughter slipping in between bites. There was no rush. No pressure. Just
us.
After dinner,
we cleared the plates together, our shoulders brushing now and then. In the
kitchen, she handed me dishes, humming softly under her breath. It felt
ordinary—and somehow sacred.
Back in the
living room, I sank into the couch. She followed, curling up beside me. I
reached up and gently loosened her hair from the bun, letting it fall freely
over her shoulder.
"Come here," I
murmured, opening my arms.
She didn't
hesitate.
She nestled
into me as if she had always belonged there, resting her head against my chest.
I wrapped my arms around her instinctively, holding her close.
"You have no
idea how long I've waited for this," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
"Me too," she
replied, just as softly.
I brushed her
hair away from her face, my fingers moving slowly, reverently. We talked for a
while—about today, about nothing, about everything. And then… silence settled
between us, comfortable and full.
Her breathing
changed.
I felt it
before I saw it—the tiny yawn she tried to hide, the way her body relaxed
despite her effort to stay awake.
"Go to sleep,
sweetheart," I said gently.
She shook her
head, fear flickering in her eyes.
"I'm scared to
close my eyes," she admitted. "What if this is just a dream?"
My heart
clenched.
I pulled her
closer, my arms firm, protective.
"It's not a
dream, my love," I whispered against her hair.
"It's real.
Completely, beautifully real."
I kissed her
temple soft
"And I'm
yours," I continued. "I promise—when you wake up, you'll still be right here.
In my arms."
Her body
finally relaxed.
Minutes later,
she drifted off, her breaths slow and even, her face peaceful against my chest.
I stayed awake.
I gently ran my
fingers through her hair, over and over, memorizing the weight of her, the
warmth of her presence.
For the first
time in a long time…
home wasn't a
place.
It was her.