RUDRA
đź“Ť Mussoorie,
India
The golden rays of the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. I leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, my gaze locked on her peaceful face. For the first time in hours, Avni's features weren't twisted with pain or exhaustion. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and for a moment, it was easy to pretend that everything was normal.
But peace was an illusion. The chaos of last night lingered like an invisible shadow in the room. The muffled sounds of voices downstairs were a constant reminder that everyone had been shaken. Her family and friends were still here, their worry manifesting in hushed tones and anxious glances.
I hadn't left her side. I couldn't.
The house was finally quiet, though the earlier chaos still echoed in my mind. Everyone had come to see her—her parents, siblings, friends, even her Chacha and Chachi. Each of them carried their worry in different ways: her father's stern silence, her mother's teary gaze, her brothers' protective scowls, and her friends' anxious chatter.
But now, it was just me and the heavy silence of the villa.
I shifted in my seat, pulling my phone out of my pocket. Ashwin's last update had been promising; he'd sent a team to investigate the men who had kidnapped her.
Dumbheads, Avni had called them, and she wasn't wrong. But their stupidity didn't erase the danger they had posed. It didn't erase the fact that I hadn't been there when she needed me most.
The memories of last night's chaos replayed in my mind like a haunting reel—the blood on her face, the exhaustion in her eyes, and the faint yet unwavering smirk she wore as she sat atop a heap of unconscious men. That reckless smirk she had flashed as she stood victorious—it haunted me. She was reckless, infuriating, and utterly fearless. But beneath all that bravado was someone I had sworn to protect.
And I had failed her. How close had I come to losing her?
I clenched my fists, the guilt gnawing at me like a persistent wound. Every decision I made as her bodyguard was meant to keep her safe, yet she had outmaneuvered me with her cleverness and sheer determination to live on her own terms. She had fooled me, used that horse race as a decoy, and walked right into danger.
But the blame wasn't hers alone. I should've anticipated her need for freedom, her defiance against the constraints of her royal life. If I had been sharper, more vigilant, she wouldn't have been forced to fight for her life while I was out searching for her like a fool.
The sound of the door creaking open pulled me from my thoughts.
"Still on high alert, huh?" Avyukt stepped inside, his usual carefree smirk softened by worry. He closed the door quietly, his gaze flicking to his sister. "How is she?"
"She's stable," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.
He moved closer, pulling up a chair. For a moment, we sat in silence, both of us watching her. His easygoing demeanour was a mask, but I could see the cracks—guilt and fear etched into his features.
He nodded, his gaze shifting to his sister. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—relief, guilt, maybe even admiration. "You know," he began, leaning against the doorframe, "I've seen Avni pull some crazy stunts before, but this... This was next level."
"Next level recklessness," I muttered, unable to hide the frustration in my voice.
 "She scared all of us," he murmured, his voice thick. "I don't know whether to be proud of her or terrified."
"Both," I said flatly.
Avyukt chuckled softly. "She gets it from Dad, you know. That unstoppable drive to take on the world, no matter the odds."
"Great," I said dryly. "I'll be sure to remind him of that the next time she nearly gets herself killed."
He smirked, but the humour didn't quite reach his eyes. "You care about her," he said, his tone more serious now.
"She's my responsibility," I replied, the words automatic yet hollow.
Avyukt raised an eyebrow. "Responsibility, huh? Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?"
I didn't answer. Partly because I didn't have an answer, and partly because Avni stirred in her sleep. Both of us fell silent, watching as her eyes fluttered open.
She blinked a few times, disoriented, before her gaze landed on me. For a moment, the room felt impossibly still.
"Rudra," she said, her voice hoarse but steady.
"I'm here," I replied, stepping closer to her bedside.
She looked at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, in true Avni fashion, she smirked. "You look like hell."
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "And whose fault do you think that is?"
"Touché," she murmured, leaning back against the pillows.
Avyukt cleared his throat, drawing our attention. "I'll go tell the others she's awake. They've been pacing like lunatics downstairs." he said, already heading for the door.Â
As the door closed behind him, Avni turned back to me. "Everyone's here?"
"Your parents, your siblings, your friends...Even Ashwin dropped by for a bit." I trailed off, watching as her eyes lit up at the mention of her loved ones.
"And you," she added, her tone softer now.
"Of course," I said simply.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The weight of everything unsaid hung between us, a silent acknowledgment of what had passed and what was to come.
"Rudra," she began hesitantly, "I—"
Before she could finish, i interrupted, "Go back to sleep, Avni. You need rest.'
She didn't argue, and within moments, she was asleep again. I sat back, my eyes never leaving her.her expression finally free of the pain and exhaustion that had haunted her earlier. She looked peaceful, fragile even, but I knew better. This girl had taken down a gang of goons with sheer grit and a stubbornness that could outmatch a bull.
The weight of the day settled on me again, but it was different now. It wasn't just the weight of failure or fear—it was the weight of responsibility, of loyalty, of something deeper that I wasn't ready to name.
As the night stretched on, I stayed by her side, the steady rhythm of her breathing grounding me.
I didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but I knew one thing for certain: as long as I was here, no one would ever lay a hand on her again.
For now, though, I let the quiet settle around us, my hand resting on the hilt of my gun as I kept watch through the night.
I wouldn't let her face danger alone again. No matter what lay ahead, I'd be there.
Always.
(✧｡✿｡✧)
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