91. His Care

I need a name for this pair :)

.•°•.•°•.•°•.

The hospital corridors were eerily silent, yet the tension in the air was suffocating.

Two operating rooms were in use simultaneously, both occupied by the most critical patients of the night—Aarush and Mahira.

.

Mahira’s Operation Room

Daisy stood over Mahira, her hands steady but her heart pounding.

Mahira’s body lay lifeless on the table, her pale face drained of color, her wounds still seeping blood.

The heart monitor beeped faintly, a cruel reminder of how fragile she was.

“We need to close up the wounds immediately,” one of the assisting doctors said, cutting through the silence.

Her left shoulder was torn open again from where her stitches had given away.

A deep gash on her head was bleeding dangerously, and her wrist was swollen and possibly fractured.

But worst of all—her body was in shock. Her vitals were unstable, and her breathing was erratic.

“She’s losing too much blood,” Daisy muttered, frustration evident in her voice.

A nurse rushed in with blood bags. “We need to stabilize her before we even think of stitching her up.”

Daisy worked relentlessly, ordering medication, instructing her team, and making sure every drop of blood loss was accounted for.

The tension grew thicker with each second, but Daisy refused to give up. This was Mahira—her only one, her family. She wouldn’t let her slip away.

.

Aarush’s Operation Room

Meanwhile, in the other OR, another battle was being fought.

Aarush’s condition was critical. He had multiple stab wounds, some dangerously deep, and his blood pressure was dropping rapidly.

His once energetic body was lifeless, his skin ghostly pale, his breaths barely there.

“He’s crashing!” one of the doctors shouted.

“Not on my watch,” the surgeon growled, pressing down to stop the bleeding.

The wounds on his abdomen were the worst. Every time the doctors tried to stitch them up, the bleeding wouldn’t stop.

His body had endured too much—the exhaustion, the anger, the pain—it had all taken a toll.

Ashwin stood outside, watching through the glass window, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white.

He had never seen Aarush like this before—helpless, broken, on the verge of death.

The man who had always been so full of life, who had laughed so brightly just hours ago, was now fighting to stay alive.

“Come on, Aarush,” he whispered, “you’re stronger than this. Don’t give up.”

.•°•.•°•.•°•.

Hours passed. The hospital was drowning in a heavy silence, the kind that only came when death was looming too close.

Mahira’s operation was nearing its end. The wounds were closed, the stitches were secure, and the bleeding had stopped. But she wasn’t waking up.

“Why isn’t she responding?” Daisy’s voice wavered.

“She’s weak,” another doctor replied. “Her body went through too much trauma. We just have to wait.”

In the other OR, Aarush’s battle was also concluding. The surgeons had managed to stabilize him, but his body was in complete shock.

His wounds were deep, his heart had nearly given up, and his mind… who knew if he would even be the same when he woke up?

Both were survivors. But at what cost?

.•°•.•°•.•°•.

Several more hours passed before Mahira and Aarush were carefully transferred from the ICU to a shared private room.

The hospital staff worked quietly, handling their fragile bodies with care.

Mahira lay on one bed, her face bandaged, her arm in a cast, an IV drip attached to her. She looked painfully small, her breathing shallow but steady.

Aarush was placed on the bed beside her. His torso was wrapped in thick bandages, his arms covered in bruises, his face void of his usual warmth.

As the nurses adjusted their monitors and checked their vitals one last time, Daisy stood at the doorway, watching.

“They’re alive,” she whispered to herself. “But they’re not the same anymore.”

She turned to Ashwin, who had been standing there the entire time. “What happens now?”

Ashwin exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

“Now?” he said. “Now, we wait.”

.•°•.•°•.•°•.

Aarush’s eyes fluttered open, the sterile white ceiling of the hospital room coming into view.

His body ached—sharp, unbearable pain pulsing through every inch of him. His throat was dry, his head heavy, but none of it mattered.

He blinked a few times, adjusting to the light, and slowly turned his head.

A familiar figure sat beside him—Ashwin. His face was tired, his usually sharp and controlled demeanor now replaced with quiet exhaustion.

Ashwin noticed the movement and leaned forward, relief washing over him. “You’re awake,” he muttered, his voice rough from the long night.

Aarush swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. “Mahira…?”

Ashwin didn’t say anything. He simply turned his head toward the other side of the room. Aarush followed his gaze, and the moment his eyes landed on her, the pain in his body became insignificant.

Mahira lay on the hospital bed, motionless. Her fragile frame was covered in bandages, her head wrapped in white gauze, her wrist secured in a cast.

The bruises on her arms and neck stood out against her pale skin. The sight of her like that—so lifeless, so broken—made something inside Aarush shatter.

His chest tightened, his breath hitching as he tried to process what he was seeing. His Mahira—was lying there, unresponsive.

“She hasn’t woken up yet,” Ashwin said quietly. “The doctors say she’s stable, but… her body went through a lot. She lost a lot of blood. And the trauma—”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “We don’t know when she’ll wake up.”

Aarush’s fingers curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms. The memories of last night flashed in his mind—the locked door, the red stain on the floor, the sight of her fragile body beneath that monster’s filthy hands.

The rage he had felt, the blood on his hands as he had beaten that bastard to the ground, the unbearable pain as he was stabbed again and again—but he hadn’t cared.

He would’ve taken a hundred more wounds if it meant saving her.

His heart ached looking at her. She had always been so full of life, so gentle, so soft-spoken, and now…

“Mahira,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

Ashwin placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “She’ll wake up,” he reassured him. “She has to.”

But Aarush wasn’t listening anymore. His eyes never left Mahira, his mind drowning in thoughts, in guilt, in helplessness. He had sworn to protect her. And yet, he had failed.

.•°•.•°•.•°•.

Aarush gritted his teeth as he tried to sit up, a sharp pain shooting through his side. His body protested, but he ignored it.

Ashwin, watching him struggle, sighed and placed a hand behind his back, helping him up.

"You should rest," Ashwin muttered, his voice laced with concern.

Aarush shook his head, his jaw tight. "Did you tell anyone?" His voice was low, almost threatening.

Ashwin hesitated, then shook his head. "No. I remembered what you said before you collapsed—‘don’t tell anyone.’ So I didn’t."

Aarush let out a relieved breath. He couldn’t afford anyone—especially Mahira—seeing him like this.

He clenched his fists, forcing his body to move despite the pain. He reached for the fresh shirt folded beside him and slipped it on, wincing as the fabric brushed against his bandaged wounds.

“She shouldn’t see me like this,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ashwin watched him, his eyes unreadable. “You think she’d care?”

Aarush didn’t answer. He simply buttoned his shirt, his hands slightly shaking.

He didn’t want Mahira to wake up and see him weak, wounded, helpless. He wanted to be strong—for her.

.•°•.•°•.•°•.

Mahira stirred, her lashes fluttering as she slowly came back to consciousness.

A dull pain throbbed through her body, but it was the sudden wave of panic that gripped her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Her throat felt dry, her lips chapped, but she still managed to whisper, “Daisy…”

Almost immediately, a warm hand gently caressed her cheek, and a familiar voice whispered, “I’m here.”

Mahira let out a soft sigh of relief. The tension in her body eased slightly, but her mind was still hazy.

She blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the dim lighting of the hospital room.

Slowly, she turned her head toward Daisy, whose worried eyes softened as she smiled at her.

“What… happened?” Mahira asked weakly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Daisy hesitated for a moment, brushing Mahira’s hair back gently. “You were attacked,” she said carefully, not wanting to overwhelm her. “But you’re safe now.”

Mahira blinked, trying to recall the events, but all she could remember was the suffocating fear, the pain, and then darkness.

She took a shaky breath before offering Daisy a small, weak smile. “You saved me… again.”

Daisy’s eyes widened slightly before she shook her head. “No, Mahira,” she said firmly. “It wasn’t me.”

Mahira frowned in confusion. “Then who—”

Daisy exhaled, her fingers tightening slightly around Mahira’s hand. “Aarush.”

Mahira’s lips parted in surprise. “Aarush sir?” she echoed.

Daisy nodded, her voice gentle. “He broke down the door, fought that man, and didn’t stop until he made sure you were safe. He…” She paused, choosing her words carefully, “…he didn’t leave your side.”

Mahira’s heart skipped a beat. Aarush had saved her.

Her fingers curled slightly against the hospital sheet, emotions swirling in her chest. But Daisy didn’t tell her everything.

She didn’t tell her how Aarush had nearly died, how he had collapsed from his injuries, how he had fought even while bleeding out.

Because he had begged her not to.

.•°•.•°•.•°•.

Daisy sighed, watching the turmoil flash across Mahira’s face. She gently squeezed her hand, her voice soft yet firm.

“Give him a chance, dear.”

Mahira immediately shook her head, her grip tightening on the bedsheet. “No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I can’t.”

Daisy frowned. “Why not?”

Mahira turned her head away, her eyes stinging with fresh tears. “Because I’m filthy… disgusting…”

Her voice cracked as she choked on her words. “I’m not worth him, Daisy. He deserves someone pure, someone untouched by the kind of filth I carry.”

Daisy’s heart ached at her words. “Mahira,” she said softly, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “You are not filthy. What happened to you Wasn’t your fault.”

“But it happened,” Mahira whispered. “And now, I’ll always carry it. I don’t want Aarush sir to be burdened by me.”

Daisy’s brows furrowed. “Burdened?”

She shook her head. “Mahira, that man hurt you, but don’t let him take away your worth. Aarush cares for you. He fought for you. And you think you’re not worthy of him?”

Mahira clenched her jaw, shaking her head again. “I don’t want to hurt him. If he gets too close to me… if he ever regrets it later… I don’t think I could bear it.”

Daisy exhaled, her heart aching for her friend. “You’re not hurting him, Myra. You’re hurting yourself.”

Mahira bit her lip, her body trembling. “He should be with someone who doesn’t have nightmares, who isn’t scared of shadows, who isn’t Broken.”

Daisy cupped her face, making her look at her. “Myra, Aarush doesn’t see you as broken. He sees you as you. And he wants you. The question is—will you let him?”

Mahira’s lips trembled, but she remained silent. Because deep down, she wasn’t sure she could.

.•°•.•°•.•°•.

Mahira blinked rapidly, trying to push back the emotions threatening to consume her.

Her throat felt tight, and she knew if she said another word, she might break again.

So instead, she forced a small, weak smile and whispered, “I’m hungry.”

Daisy stared at her for a long moment, reading between the lines. She knew Mahira was running away from the conversation, avoiding the pain she wasn’t ready to face. But Daisy also knew she couldn’t push too hard—not now.

With a soft sigh, she played along. “Of course, you are.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Nearly dying really does make one work up an appetite.”

Mahira let out a small, breathy laugh, but it barely reached her eyes.

Daisy stood up and stretched. “Alright, let me see what I can get you. What do you feel like eating?”

Mahira shrugged, shifting slightly in bed. “Anything, as long as it’s warm.”

Daisy nodded. “Got it. Stay put, I’ll be back soon.”

As she walked towards the door, she paused and glanced back. “And Mahira?”

Mahira looked up hesitantly.

Daisy gave her a knowing look. “You can’t run from this forever.”

Mahira’s forced smile faltered for a second, but she quickly looked away, staring at her hands.

Daisy sighed softly before leaving.

And as soon as the door closed, Mahira let out a shaky breath, staring at the ceiling.

Because deep down, she knew Daisy was right.

.•°•.•°•.•°•.

Mahira felt trapped in her own body. The pain in her bandaged hands was unbearable, her head ached, and every breath she took reminded her of the bruises and wounds covering her body.

She shifted slightly, but even that sent sharp pain through her limbs.

Just as she was trying to adjust, the door opened.

Aarush entered with his usual bright smile, the one that could light up any room.

But the moment Mahira’s eyes landed on him, fear rushed through her veins like ice.

Her body stiffened. Her fingers twitched as if trying to move, to shield herself, but they remained useless under the thick bandages.

Aarush noticed it immediately.

The way her breathing quickened.

The way her wide eyes filled with terror.

The way she flinched ever so slightly, as if preparing for something bad.

His heart shattered into a million pieces.

But he forced his smile to stay.

He had to. For her.

"Hey," he said gently, stepping closer. "Are you alright?"

Mahira didn’t answer. She only flinched again, shrinking back against the pillows as if she could disappear into them.

Aarush stopped in his tracks, his hands curling into fists at his sides. Not out of anger at her—but at himself.

At the world.

At the fact that she was afraid. Of him.

He could feel the lump in his throat growing as he looked at her—this girl who had always been so kind, so full of life despite her struggles, now looking at him as if he were a monster.

He took a slow step back, his movements careful, measured.

“I—” His voice cracked, so he cleared his throat. “I won’t come closer if you don’t want me to.”

Mahira’s lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.

The silence between them stretched, heavy and suffocating.

Aarush took another step back, trying to fight the unbearable ache in his chest.

“I just wanted to check on you,” he said softly. “I won’t stay if you don’t want me to.”

Mahira’s hands trembled slightly, but they remained on her lap, useless.

She should have said something. Anything.

But all she could do was stare.

Aarush forced a bright smile on his face, determined to lift the heavy atmosphere between them.

“Well, I’m not here for you, you know,” he said with a teasing lilt in his voice. “I’m also admitted here!”

Mahira’s brows furrowed slightly as she watched him stroll across the room.

He plopped himself down on the bed opposite hers, stretching his arms behind his head as if he were completely at ease.

For a moment, she just stared at him, confused.

Then, in a voice so soft and weak that it almost broke him, she asked, “W-what happened to you?”

Aarush’s heart clenched painfully at how fragile she sounded. He wanted to rush to her, to hold her and tell her she was safe, but he knew better.

So, he put on his best dramatic expression, sighing heavily.

“Ohhh, I have a very big fever, you know!!!” he declared, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead as if he were on the verge of collapse.

Mahira blinked at him, momentarily stunned. Then, despite everything, she shook her head ever so slightly.

This man… would he ever change?

A tiny, barely-there exhale left her lips, and Aarush swore he saw the ghost of a smile in her eyes.

And for now, that was enough.

.•°•.•°•.•°•.

Just as Mahira shook her head at Aarush’s antics, the door swung open, and Daisy walked in carrying a tray of food.

She immediately raised an eyebrow at Aarush, her expression unimpressed.

“Oh great, you’re back,” she deadpanned, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Aarush clutched his chest dramatically. “Daisy, your concern is truly overwhelming. I might cry.”

She rolled her eyes, walking right past him as if he were nothing more than an irritating fly.

Instead, she focused on Mahira, who sat there quietly, her bandaged hands resting uselessly on the blanket.

Daisy’s gaze softened. “How are you feeling, dear?”

Mahira gave a small nod. “Better…”

Daisy didn’t look convinced but didn’t push further. Instead, she set the tray down and picked up a spoon. “I’ll feed you.”

Mahira hesitated for a second before nodding. Daisy sat beside her and carefully began feeding her small bites, making sure not to rush.

Meanwhile, Aarush watched the scene unfold, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“I feel neglected,” he sighed. “Where’s my nurse? Shouldn’t I be getting fed too?”

Daisy didn’t even look at him as she replied, “You have hands, don’t you?”

Aarush gasped. “How rude! Myra, did you hear that? This is bullying!”

Mahira simply blinked at him, still too drained to react much, but the tiniest flicker of amusement passed through her eyes.

Daisy, however, wasn’t done. She turned to glare at him, her usual threatening aura intensifying. “If you keep talking, I might just ‘accidentally’ spill hot soup on you.”

Aarush immediately sat up straight, pressing his lips together in an exaggerated show of silence.

Mahira let out the softest exhale, not quite a laugh, but close.

And in that moment, Aarush knew—step by step, little by little—he would bring her back to life again.

.•°•.•°•.•°•.

As Mahira drifted back into sleep, Daisy carefully tucked the blanket around her before turning toward Aarush.

Her expression was unreadable, but the sharpness in her eyes was unmistakable as she walked over to him.

Aarush, ever the dramatic, gasped and clutched his imaginary pearls. “Oh my God, Daisy! Please don’t hurt me! I have a very big fever, remember?” He fluttered his lashes innocently, scooting back on the bed.

Daisy glared, leaning down so only he could hear. “What the hell were you thinking sitting up like that earlier? Do you want to open your stitches and land yourself back in the OR?!”

Aarush simply grinned, completely unbothered. “Worth it,” he said easily.

Daisy’s eye twitched. “Worth it?! You absolute idiot—”

“I made her laugh,” Aarush cut in, his voice softer this time, yet still holding that familiar playfulness. “Even if it was just a little, even if it was barely there… I saw it, Daisy.”

His eyes flickered toward Mahira’s sleeping form before returning to Daisy, his usual cocky smirk gentler than before. “And if I have to risk my stitches to see that again, I will.”

Daisy inhaled sharply, her anger faltering just for a second. But then she let out a sigh, rubbing her temples. “You’re impossible.”

Aarush grinned wider. “And yet, you still care for me.”

Daisy crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Care is a strong word. Tolerate—barely—is more accurate.”

Aarush let out a dramatic gasp. “How cruel! And after all I’ve been through?”

Daisy rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to strangle him, but deep down, she knew—this was just who he was.

And maybe, Mahira needed someone like him right now.

.•°•.•°•.•°•.

Daisy sighed, crossing her arms as she studied Aarush.

Beneath all his dramatics and teasing, there was something different in his eyes—something softer, deeper.

“You really care about her, don’t you?” she murmured.

Aarush’s playful smirk faded just a little. He leaned back against his pillow, gazing at Mahira’s sleeping form.

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes were filled with something fierce, something unshakable.

“I do,” he admitted quietly. “More than she’ll ever know.”

Daisy softened at his tone. This wasn’t the Aarush who joked around and flirted shamelessly—this was the Aarush who had thrown himself into danger without hesitation to protect Mahira.

The Aarush who had nearly died for her, and still, even now, didn’t care about his own wounds as long as she was okay.

“She’s scared of men now,” Daisy whispered, guilt weighing on her voice. “And she doesn’t even know that you—”

Aarush cut her off with a small shake of his head. “She doesn’t need to know.” His voice was calm but firm. “She has enough on her plate. If knowing what happened to me makes her feel guilty, then I don’t want her to know.”

Daisy swallowed hard, feeling a lump rise in her throat. “But Aarush, she—”

“I’m not leaving her, Daisy.” His voice was steady, certain. “Even if she pushes me away, even if she never looks at me the same way again, I’ll still be here. I’ll wait, for as long as it takes.”

Daisy exhaled slowly, watching him, truly seeing him. This wasn’t some fleeting affection.

This wasn’t just sympathy. This was love—the kind that didn’t waver, the kind that stood strong even in the darkest storms.

She shook her head, a small, tired smile tugging at her lips. “You’re an idiot.”

Aarush grinned, the playful light returning to his eyes. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all day.”

Daisy rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. Because for once, she knew he wasn’t just being reckless.

This time, he was simply being Aarush.

The one person who would never, ever give up on Mahira.

.•°•.•°•.•°•.

He protected, even when she didn’t notice.❤️✨