Cuddle First, Panic Later.

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Dhruvin stirred awake, his body unusually warm, as if wrapped in a cocoon of comfort. His face was nestled against something soft, and a faint scent of jasmine and vanilla lingered around him. His hand instinctively tightened around a small waist, pulling the warmth closer. For a blissful moment, he let himself sink into the comfort, sighing in contentment. But then—

His eyes fluttered open, and what he saw made every ounce of sleep vanish instantly.

Aashna.

She was sleeping, her head resting on the side of the bed, using her folded arms as a makeshift pillow. Her face was turned towards him, peaceful, her lashes casting delicate shadows on her cheeks. His head was tucked into her stomach, dangerously close to her underboob, and his arm was wrapped possessively around her waist. His breath hitched. What the hell happened last night?

And then it hit him. The thunderstorm. His nightmare. His vulnerability. Of course, he had broken down—it was the night his parents had died. He had tried so hard not to sleep, to keep himself from spiraling into that abyss again, but exhaustion must have won. And now, Aashna had seen him at his weakest.

Aashna stirred slightly, her fingers absentmindedly running through his hair in her sleep. His heartbeat stuttered. Was she doing this unconsciously? A soft sigh escaped her lips, making warmth pool in his chest.

Shit.

This was dangerous.Before he could move away, she shifted again, her eyes fluttering open, hazel meeting honey-brown. The moment realization dawned upon her, her body went rigid, her hand still tangled in his hair, his hand still around her waist. The air between them grew thick, charged with something unspoken.

Aashna was the first to react.

She jolted upright so fast that his head slipped from its resting place and landed straight onto the hard floor with a loud thud.

"Ow! What the hell, Aashna?" Dhruvin groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

Aashna, on the other hand, was red-faced, stumbling over her words. "I—You—We—Just shut up!" she snapped, crossing her arms, trying to look anywhere but at him.

Dhruvin smirked, despite the ache in his head. "Damn, at least let a guy wake up properly before pushing him to the ground."

"You—you were the one—!" She faltered, noticing how amused he looked. "Ugh! I'm going to freshen up. And while I'm gone, you better clean all this up! Fold the blankets and everything. I don’t want to see a mess when I come back!"

She grabbed her clothes and stormed into the washroom, slamming the door behind her. Dhruvin chuckled, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "She’s cute when she’s flustered."

Inside the washroom, Aashna leaned against the sink, staring at her reflection. Her heart was still racing. The warmth of his body, the way his hair had felt under her fingers, the way he had looked at her—all of it was replaying in her head, making her insides twist.

She had never seen Dhruvin like that. Vulnerable. Broken. Human.

She sighed, splashing cold water on her face. "Get a grip, Aashna. You can’t fall for him. Not yet."

As Aashna splashed cold water on her face, she let out a deep breath. The memory of last night played in her mind—Dhruvin, trembling in his sleep, the way she instinctively comforted him, the way she fell asleep beside him. A warmth settled in her chest, but right along with it was an unsettling realization. She was falling for him. Hard. And yet, she wasn’t sure if she could trust him—not with her heart, not with the past that still haunted her. She had to keep her guard up. It was the only way to protect herself.Nodding at her reflection in determination, she wiped her face and stepped out of the washroom. But the moment she did, her steps faltered.

Standing near the bed, facing away from her, was Dhruvin—shirtless.

Her breath hitched.

His back was sculpted with defined muscles, a few faint scars lining his skin, making him look effortlessly rugged. His dark, messy hair was still ruffled from sleep, and as he ran a hand through it lazily, the movement flexed the muscles of his shoulders and arms. Her mouth went dry.

What was this absurd heat creeping up her neck?

Before she could decide whether to make her presence known or quietly retreat, he turned around, catching her staring.

A slow, knowing smirk spread across his lips.

"Aankhein sekh li? Ya aur time chahiye?" he teased, his honey-brown eyes glinting with mischief.

Aashna snapped out of her daze, blinking rapidly. "K-kya?! Shut up! Mujhe koi shauk nahi hai yeh sab dekhne ka!" she huffed, but the pink dusting her cheeks betrayed her words.

Dhruvin chuckled, taking a step toward her. "Arey, toh phir aise mooh khula chhod ke kyun dekh rahi thi, Aashu?"

Her heart skipped a beat.

Aashu.

It was the first time he had ever called her that. And damn it, why did she like it?

But she wasn’t about to let him win.

She crossed her arms and scowled. "Main tumhari Aashu nahi hoon. Jaldi tayaar ho jao, humein nikalna hai."

He chuckled, clearly entertained by her flustered state. "Aata tu aashuch aahes, my Aashu," he murmured in Marathi, his voice dripping with amusement.

Aashna turned away abruptly, muttering curses under her breath. But even as she pretended to be unaffected, her heart was still racing from the way his voice had wrapped around those two words—my Aashu.

And that was dangerous.

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Author’s Note

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