AVNI:

The airport feels suffocating.

It's strange, because I've been here before countless times, maybe more than I can remember. Dropping people off, picking them up, watching reunions that never belonged to me.

But today, everything feels louder. The announcements echo sharper, footsteps strike harder against the polished floors, and even the air feels heavier against my skin. Or maybe it's just me.

Maybe it's because my eyes refuse to stop drifting toward the arrival gate, like something deep inside me won't let me look anywhere else.

Three years.

I press my lips together, tightening my grip on my phone as I check the time again, even though I already know I'm early.

Three years since Vivansh Raghuvanshi leave india , and from last 3 years of our long distance relationship. No dramatic goodbye just a calm, almost careless, "I'll be back." And I had believed him. But standing here now, waiting for him like this, I realize something I don't want to admit. I didn't forget him. I just learned how to breathe without him. There's a difference. A dangerous one.

The glass doors slide open again, releasing another wave of passengers into the terminal. My eyes scan automatically, searching without permission. Not him. I exhale slowly, shifting my weight, trying to steady myself.

And then I see him. Everything inside me goes still. Not the airport, not the noise, not the people moving around me. Just me.

He walks out like nothing has changed, like three years is nothing, like this moment was always meant to happen exactly like this. Vivansh Raghuvanshi. My breath catches without permission.

He looks completely different. His face hasn't changed much, still sharp, still composed, still carrying that quiet confidence that used to make people listen even when he said nothing. But there's something else now, something heavier, darker, more controlled. Like whatever he became in those three years stayed with him.

His shoulders are broader, his posture straighter, his movements slower but not lazy. Measured. Intentional. Like every step he takes is calculated, even if it looks effortless. My heartbeat begins to climb.

He doesn't rush, doesn't glance around like someone searching. He already knows. His gaze sweeps across the crowd once, and then it finds me. Just like that. No hesitation. No doubt.

The moment his eyes lock onto mine, something twists low in my stomach. It's the same look. No not the same. Stronger. More intense. Before, it was something I could ignore. Now, it feels like something I can't escape.

He doesn't smile. Doesn't lift a hand. Doesn't react the way people do when they see someone they've missed. He just looks at me and starts walking.

Each step feels heavier than the last, even though I'm the one standing still. I should move. I should do something wave, smile, act normal. But I don't. I just stand there, waiting, like my body already knows there's no point pretending. By the time he reaches me, my heart is beating so loudly I'm sure he can hear it.

"welcome back," I say softly, but it comes out smaller than I expect.

His eyes don't leave my face. "Three years."

My throat tightens. "Yeah..." He steps closer. Too close. I feel it immediately the shift in air, the way his presence presses into mine, the way everything else fades into something distant and unimportant.

"You look the same," I add quickly, because the silence feels too heavy. His expression changes, just slightly. Not softer, sharper. "No," he says quietly. "You don't."

My breath stutters. "What?" His gaze drops slowly, unhurried, deliberate from my eyes to my lips, to my neck, and lower. Heat rushes to my skin instantly. I freeze, suddenly aware of everything my clothes, my posture, the fact that we're standing too close in a public place where anyone could see us.

"You've changed," he continues, his voice lower now. There's something in the way he says it that makes my stomach tighten. Not admiration. Assessment. Like he's noticing things he shouldn't be noticing.

"Vivansh," I murmur under my breath, "this is an airport."

"Hmm." That's all he says, but his eyes don't move. Somehow, that's worse. After a moment, he looks back at my face, as if deciding something. "Come." Not a question. Not a suggestion. Just a quiet command, I follow.

The walk to the car feels blurred. I don't remember the people we pass, the sounds, the movement around us. I'm too aware of him walking beside me, close enough that I can feel his presence without him touching me. It's unsettling, because he doesn't need to touch me. Not yet.

When we reach the car, I unlock it quickly and slip into the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary. He gets in beside me, and just like that, the space becomes smaller. Thicker.

I inhale slowly. "I missed you," I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

Silence follows. For a second, I regret it. Then he moves. It's sudden. His hand wraps around my arm, firm, pulling me toward him before I can react. A soft gasp leaves my lips as my body shifts across the seat.

"Vivansh"

"Come here."

My heart jumps.

And then I'm on him, sitting on his lap before I can even process how it happened. My breath turns uneven. My hands press instinctively against his chest, trying to create space that doesn't exist.

"Vivansh, someone could see"

"Let them." His voice is calm, unbothered, like the world outside this car doesn't matter at all. His hand settles at my waist, firm, holding me in place so I can't move even if I try. "Look at me."

I don't realize I've been avoiding his eyes until he says it. Slowly, I look up and immediately regret it. There's something in his gaze now that wasn't there before. Or maybe it was, and I just didn't understand it then.

"You've become more beautiful," he says quietly.

My breath falters. His gaze drops again, slower this time, tracing over me in a way that makes my skin feel too sensitive, too exposed. "More than before."

Heat floods my face. "Vivansh..." His grip tightens slightly at my waist not enough to hurt, just enough to remind. "I missed this," he murmurs.

Before I can respond, his fingers slide upward, brushing lightly along my throat. My breath catches sharply. The touch is soft, but it doesn't feel soft. It feels controlled, intentional like he knows exactly what he's doing.

"Do you know," he says quietly, leaning closer, his voice lowering near my ear, "how long I've thought about this?" I can't answer. My mind is too loud, my heartbeat too fast.

"I missed you so much, Vivansh," I whisper, not stopping myself this time. I don't want to. Something shifts in his expression again, darker.

"You don't know," he murmurs, his voice rougher now, "how much I missed this."

And then he kisses me.

It isn't gentle. It isn't hesitant. It's controlled possessive like he's already decided this moment belongs to him. My fingers grip his shirt as he pulls me closer, his hand firm at my waist, keeping me exactly where he wants me.

The kiss deepens slowly, unhurried but unrelenting, like time doesn't matter, like nothing outside this car exists.

His fingers tighten slightly at my throat not enough to hurt, just enough to make my breath hitch again, just enough to remind me how easily he can control the distance between us.I should stop this. I should pull away. I should say something.

But I don't.

Because a part of me doesn't want to. And that's the most dangerous thing of all. When he finally pulls back, my breathing is uneven, my thoughts scattered, my body still too aware of his touch. His forehead almost brushes mine, his grip still firm at my waist.

"I'm not leaving again," he says quietly. There's something final in his voice something that doesn't sound like a promise. It sounds like a decision. His thumb brushes lightly against my side, slow, absent, like he's already used to this used to me being here.

"You're coming with me," he adds. My heart stumbles. "What?" His gaze lifts back to mine, steady, unmoving. "As if you have a choice." And just like that, I understand.

This isn't the same Vivansh who left.

And whatever this is now It's not something I can control.

And maybe...

It never want to control.

VIVANSH:

The haveli hasn't changed.

It still stands the way it always has quiet, imposing, carved in silence and authority. The gates close behind us with a heavy finality that echoes through the courtyard, a sound that most people would find unsettling. I don't. This place was built to hold things power, secrets, control. And now... her.

I glance at Avni as she steps out of the car, her eyes lifting slowly, taking everything in. The carved pillars, the long corridors stretching into shadow, the high arches looming above like silent observers. There's curiosity in her gaze. Not fear. Good. She shouldn't feel afraid here. Not when she's with me.

I walk ahead without saying anything, already knowing she'll follow. She always does. Her footsteps trail behind me, softer, slower as if she's trying to absorb every detail.

The haveli has a way of doing that, making people feel small without effort. But she doesn't belong to "people." She belongs here. With me.

Inside. The moment we enter my room, the door shuts behind us with a quiet click, and the outside world disappears instantly. No servants. No noise. No distractions. Just us.

I turn to her. She's still looking around, her fingers brushing lightly against the edge of a carved table, her expression thoughtful. Innocent. Unaware. I step closer.

"I can't wait anymore," I say. She turns to me, confusion flickering across her face. "Wait for what?" I don't answer that directly.

"Let's get married." The words leave me easily calm, steady, final. Her eyes widen just slightly. Not shock more like she's trying to understand how something so big can sound so simple.

"Vivansh... a wedding needs preparation," she says softly, carefully choosing her words. "And in our tradition, it takes months. At least four "

"I don't want tradition." I cut her off without raising my voice, stepping closer until there's barely any space left between us.

"I want you." Silence settles, thick and quiet. She exhales slowly and walks toward the bed, sitting down as if grounding herself, as if she needs something solid beneath her to process this.

"It's not that simple," she says, looking up at me. I watch her for a moment before moving. Then I sit beside her, close enough that our shoulders nearly touch.

"I don't want simple," I murmur. "And I don't want complicated either." My hand lifts, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face, slow and deliberate.

"I want you." Her breath falters, just slightly. I tilt my head, studying her expression, the way she reacts, the way she tries to stay composed.

"My moon," I add quietly. That word always does something to her. I see it now the faint softening in her eyes, the subtle tightening of her fingers in her lap.

Mine. She doesn't realize how long that name has belonged to her. My hand moves without much thought, resting lightly at her waist before sliding just enough to pull her closer. She stiffens for half a second, then doesn't move away.

"Vivansh..." she murmurs.

"Hmm?"

"You're...diffrent" A faint smile almost forms, but I don't let it. Of course I am.

"I've been away for three years," I say quietly. "Did you expect me to come back the same?"

She doesn't answer. Instead, she looks at me with something softer now, something quieter.

"You couldn't wait?" she asks, a hint of teasing slipping into her voice. She doesn't understand what she's asking. I lean closer.

"Wait?" I repeat softly. My fingers tighten slightly at her waist as I pull her onto my lap in one smooth movement. She gasps, her hands instinctively coming to rest on my shoulders.

"I'm done waiting." Her breathing turns uneven, but she doesn't push away. Good. I let my gaze move over her face slowly, memorizing every detail I've been forced to live without.

"Do you know how hard it was?" I murmur, my voice lowering. Before she can respond, my lips brush against her neck soft at first, testing. She inhales sharply.

"You missed me this much?" she whispers. I don't answer immediately. Instead, I let my lips move again, slower this time, along her collarbone, then back to her shoulder. Controlled. Always controlled.

"I've been controlling myself," I say quietly against her skin. Her fingers tighten on my shirt.

"Or else..." I continue, lifting my head just enough to look at her, "you wouldn't be sitting like this." Her cheeks flush instantly. That blush. I watch it spread, slow and deliberate, exactly the way I remember. Exactly the way I wanted.

"That," I murmur, my thumb brushing lightly against her cheek, "is what I want to see in my bed." Her breath stutters.

"When I finally stop controlling myself."

"Vivansh..." she says softly, clearly flustered now. I lean closer again, my voice dropping further.

"When I take my time with you." She goes completely quiet. Good. Her silence says more than words ever could.

"I want to marry you too," she admits after a moment, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. Something settles inside me. Not relief. Certainty.

"I know," I say. Of course I know. I've always known. My fingers trace lightly along her arm before returning to her waist, holding her steady.

"Then let's do it tomorrow." She freezes.

"What?" I hold her gaze, unwavering. "You heard me."

"Vivansh, are you joking?" I don't smile. I don't laugh. "You know I'm not." Silence again. Then she exhales, shaking her head slightly, a small smile forming despite herself.

"You really can't wait, can you?" I lean closer, my lips almost brushing hers, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Come into my house as my wife," I say slowly, "and I'll show you exactly how much I missed you." Her breath catches. She doesn't respond but she doesn't move away either. That's enough. I shift slightly, reaching toward the side table.

"I brought something for you." She blinks, caught off guard by the sudden change.

"A gift?" I hand her the box. "Open it." She hesitates for a moment before taking it, her fingers brushing lightly against mine. Then she lifts the lid. And freezes.

I watch her expression carefully. The collar catches the light first a delicate diamond piece shaped like a choker, elegant but unmistakable. The engraving is small.

Moon.

Beside it, the metal cuffs rest quietly. Not crude. Not careless. Chosen. Her breath falters. She closes the box immediately, her face flushing deeper.

"Vivansh"

"Don't be shy," I say calmly. Her eyes lift to mine. There's hesitation there. Curiosity. Something else.

"It's going to be used," I add quietly, "on our first night." She looks away instantly, overwhelmed. Not fear.

Just awareness the kind that builds slowly. The kind that stays.

The next day unfolds exactly the way I want it to.

Simple. Efficient. Final. The courtroom is quiet, almost dull compared to everything else, but none of that matters. Not the lack of rituals. Not the absence of celebration. Not the silence.

Because she's standing next to me. That's enough. The papers are signed. The pen rests back on the table. And just like that It's done. I look at her.

"Now," I say, my voice calm but firm, "you are Avni Vivansh Raghuvanshi." Her name sounds right like this. The way it was always meant to. I step closer, just enough that only she can hear me.

"Let's go," I murmur.

"To my world." My fingers brush lightly against hers before taking her hand completely, holding it with quiet certainty.

"I've waited long enough."

My gaze locks onto hers, steady and unmoving.

"For our first night."