The morning sun spilled softly through the tall velvet curtains, casting a gentle glow across the massive suite. The warmth of the light should've comforted her—but it didn't.
Aarohi sat up on the edge of the grand bed, her legs tucked under her, arms wrapped around herself.
Her thoughts were a storm.
The events of the previous day felt like a blur—like pieces of a nightmare stitched into a fantasy. One minute she was scrubbing floors in a stranger's house, the next… she was here. In silk sheets. Surrounded by silence, luxury, and the haunting presence of a boy who was no longer just a boy.
"Ruhan…" she whispered under her breath.
She wanted to trust him. She wanted him to protect her, like he once promised… years ago under the peepal tree. But the Ruhan from her childhood and the man she saw now—there was a sky and earth difference between them.
That boy gave her candies.
This man… gave her fear.
As she sat there, lost in thought, the heavy door to the suite creaked open. Her spine straightened instantly.
A familiar, low voice filled the air.
"Kya soch rahi ho?"
Her heart jumped. She turned to find him standing by the door, tall, striking, dressed in black—Ruhan Singh Singhal.
Aarohi's breath hitched. Her body instinctively moved back, fear rising in her throat. He noticed it immediately.
He stepped inside, calm… too calm. Sitting beside her, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
And then… without warning, his lips pressed a soft kiss against hers.
Aarohi gasped in shock.
Her heart thundered. Her hands trembled. She had never… never experienced something like this before. She was still a girl—just stepping into womanhood. These emotions, this closeness—it was all alien to her.
His eyes searched hers.
"Dar rahi ho mujhse?" he asked, voice low.
She hesitated… then slowly nodded.
His eyes hardened instantly.
"Word."
His voice was sharper this time. Commanding.
She flinched. "Haa… mujhe dar lag raha hai," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.
Something shifted in Ruhan. Anger. Pain. Possession. He gripped the back of her hair, not harshly—but firmly enough to make her gasp. He brought her face close, eyes boring into hers.
"Kiss me."
Aarohi's eyes widened in horror.
She froze. Her heart raced. What… what was he asking?
She looked at him in panic. He didn't let go.
"Purple, kiss me… warna main khud karunga. Aur mera wala… tum jhel nahi paogi."
His voice was low, threatening, but laced with an unbearable desperation.
Still, she did nothing.
Part of her was too afraid… the other part simply didn't know how. She had no idea how to kiss someone—especially someone as terrifyingly intense as him.
Her wide, helpless eyes stared into his.
And that was enough to break the last thread of his control.
Without warning, Ruhan leaned in and kissed her again—rough, deep, demanding. His hands held her in place as his mouth claimed her.
For Ruhan… it was the only way to erase the fear in her eyes.
For Aarohi… it wasn't a kiss.
It was too much. Too fast.Too forceful.
She couldn't breathe.
Her tiny fists pounded against his shoulder, her body trying to pull away—but he didn't stop.
Not until a full minute later, when her gasps turned desperate.
He finally let her go.
She fell back slightly, clutching her chest, dragging in deep breaths.
And then he said it again—calmly, but with an edge
"Kiss me. Now."
Aarohi's body stiffened, her breath trembling.
Before he could speak further, her lips shakily pressed against his.
It wasn't a kiss. It was surrender.
When she pulled back, cheeks red, eyes downcast, Ruhan smiled—a real, soft smile that rarely surfaced.
"Purple… ye kiss tha," he whispered. "Ye bol."
She looked at him with teary eyes, confused, overwhelmed. "Woh… mujhe kiss karna nahi aata," she confessed quietly.
He chuckled—soft, amused. The storm in him briefly calmed.
"Koi baat nahi," he said, cupping her face gently. "Main hoon na, Purple. Main tumhe sab sikhadunga… bas mujhe gussa mat dilana. Ache bacho ki tarah meri baat maanna, okay?"
Aarohi nodded weakly.
Ruhan stood from the bed, stretching casually. "Chalo… now freshen up. Breakfast karenge."
He pointed toward the bathroom. "Waha washroom hai, aur uske bagal mein closet. Tumhare kapde waha hain."
She nodded again, stepping off the bed.
Before she could take a step, Ruhan walked up behind her, leaned close to her ear, and whispered:
"Agar koi help chahiye ho… toh bolna. Main yahi hoon."
And then he pressed a slow kiss against the side of her neck before walking away.
Aarohi's heart hammered.
She stepped into the bathroom—and her eyes widened.
"Itna bada bathroom…?" she whispered to herself. "Yeh toh mere poore ghar se bhi bada hai…"
She looked around, overwhelmed by the marble flooring, golden faucets, soft towels, and warm lights. It felt unreal.
Ruhan's voice echoed from outside.
"Purple, baad mein dekh lena. Pehle fresh ho jao… mujhe bhook lagi hai!"
Flustered, she quickly showered, wrapped herself in a bathrobe, and stepped out.
Her eyes immediately fell on Ruhan, sitting on a couch, working on his laptop.
He looked… ethereal.
Her gaze lingered longer than she meant to.
Without even looking up, he spoke: "Main hamesha se tumhara hi tha… aur rahunga. Toh mujhe baad mein dekh lena."
Her eyes widened. How did he know?
"Isko baad mein sochna ki mujhe kaise pata," he added with a sly smirk, still not looking her way.
Aarohi stammered, "Woh… mujhe kapde—"
But before she could finish, he stood up and walked to her. She flinched instinctively, but he only took her hand and led her to the closet.
And what a closet it was.
Row after row of outfits. Every style, every color, every brand.
He looked at her with soft eyes. "Jo tumhara mann ho, woh pehno. Main bahar hoon."
And with that, he left.
Aarohi stared after him, confused. "Aap mujhe samajh nahi aa rahe hain… kabhi gussa karte ho, dard dete ho… aur kabhi itna pyaar…"
She looked through the clothes but couldn't decide what to wear.
Then her eyes fell on another section—Ruhan's clothes.
She walked over, hesitating, then picked up one of his oversized T-shirts.
She brought it close to her face, inhaling deeply.
His scent.
Before she could think more, she slipped it on. It fell long over her shorts—almost like a dress. A little comfort in a world she didn't understand.
When she stepped out, Ruhan looked up and smirked.
"Hmm… toh tumhe main kuch zyada hi pasand hoon. Mere kapde pehen liye."
Aarohi stuttered, "Mujhe samajh nahi aa raha tha… toh maine pehen liya. Sorry, maine poocha nahi…"
He stood up and walked to her again.
"Utaro."
Her eyes widened. "Kya…?" she whispered, horrified.
He raised an eyebrow. "T-shirt utaro, Purple."
Her face went red, but he added with a straight face, "Ulti pehni hai tumne."
Her cheeks turned crimson. She bolted into the closet again.
◇◇◇
A few minutes later, they sat across each other at the breakfast table. Aarohi played with her food, hesitating before asking:
"Main yahan kab tak hoon? Main apne ghar kab jaungi…?"
Ruhan paused mid-bite.
His eyes turned cold.
"Kabhi nahi."
Her heart sank.
"Tum hamesha mere paas rahogi. Samjhi? Aur ainda agar jane ki baat ki na… toh mujhse bura koi nahi hoga."
She looked down, lips trembling.
He stood up, walked over, and kissed the top of her head.
Then left without another word.
Moments later, a maid entered quietly. "Ma'am… sir office gaye hain. Unhone kaha aap breakfast karke apne room mein rest karein. Shaam tak laut aayenge."
Aarohi nodded silently.
She walked back to the room, closed the door behind her… and broke.
Tears flowed freely now. Silent, heavy sobs that echoed only in her heart.
She was no longer in Bina's house. No longer starving or hurting.
But she wasn't free either.
She was trapped.
In silk.
In silence.
In him.