He looks younger like this. Less guarded. More real. I shouldn’t be looking at him like this. I know that. But I don’t stop. I pull the chair beside him and sit down quietly, my movements slow, careful. For a moment, I just watch as if I am some painter and he’s my muse. It feels wrong. It feels…too personal. Like I’vestepped into a space I wasn’t invited into. And yet, I don’t want to leave. Because there’s something about this version of him that makes me stay. Something that feels…Safe.
His eyes flutter open. Slowly. Like he’s waking from a deep slumber. And for a second, he just looks at me. There’s no confusion on his face. Just…recognition.
“Ishika,” he whispers. The way he says my name is softer than I’ve ever heard it. My chest loosens a bit.
“I’m right here, Golden boy,” I whisper back, before I can stop myself. I don’t even know why I say it. It just…comes out. His gaze lingers on my face.
“You’re not,” he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep. “You keep disappearing.”
A small breath leaves me. “I’m not disappearing.”
“You are,” he says quietly. “Every time I get close, you take ten steps back.”
I try to smile. It doesn’t quite work. “That’s because you don’t know when to stop.”
“And you don’t know when to stay.” The words land somewhere deeper than they should. His hand moves very slowly. Like he’s giving me time to pull away. It rests over mine. I don’t move. I should. I know I should. But I don’t. He shifts slightly, pulling me just a little closer. Not enough to force. Just enough to close the space. My breath catches. He looks so dreamy.
Our faces are too close now. My nose brushes his. And for a second, everything goes quiet…inside me. My thoughts stall. My body stills. And all I can see is him. His green eyes. Soft yetfocused. Looking at me like I’m something he’s been waiting for. I should move. I should say something. I should—“I can’t do this,” I whisper, the words coming out shaky.
My voice feels too loud in the quiet. “This will ruin everything.”
He doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away. “Then let it ruin things,” he murmurs.
“You don’t understand,” I shake my head slightly, my voice trembling despite myself. “I don’t let people in. I don’t…do this. I don’t depend on anyone. I don’t want to need someone and then—”
I stop. Because I’ve said this before. Different words. Same meaning. Same fear. It hits me all at once. I sound like a broken record. Repeating the same thing. Over and over. Like if I say it enough times, it will protect me. “I sound stupid,” I mutter.
His expression softens. “No,” he says gently. “You sound scared.” That word lands heavier than anything else. “You pushing me away isn’t a surprise, sunshine.” His lips curls up, “It’s a part of you and I am not scared of it.” I swallow. His hand lifts slowly, fingers brushing my cheek. Like he’s handling something fragile.
I shake my head, “I will push you away, I will overthink…” I whisper, my heart aching.
“You can overthink,” He whispers, “You can spiral, you can shut down for days, weeks…I’m not keeping scores, baby.” Tears blur my vision before I can stop them. I hate this. I hate crying. I hate losing control like this. But I can’t stop it.
“I don’t know how to do this,” I whisper.
“You don’t have to,” His voice is so soft, it makes me want to cry more, “We can always figure it out together.” His thumb brushes away a tear.
“I don’t know how to feel…wanted. I haven’t felt I belong somewhere in ages, Golden boy.” I sniffle, “And…And you scare me because you make me feel things. I don’t…I can’t be a burden on you.” I shake my head vigorously.
“You keep talking like you are someone that needs to be managed, baby…” He frowns, “You’re not a burden, you’re someone who has been carrying too much alone,” his voice steadier now. “You’re not scary to me, sunshine.” He chuckles, “I mean yes, your death glares are scary…” A chuckle escapes me despite all these feelings and he smiles, “But the idea of losing you scares me more, Ishika.” He whispers, his smile sad now.
My chest tightens painfully. “You’ll get tired,” I whisper.
His lips curve slightly. “Look at me,” he tilts my chin up. “That would be a very disappointing way to live.” He smiles, “besides, I want you. I don’t want you to perform for me.” He tucks a strand behind my ear, “You don’t have to be less, if anything, I want all of it—the overthinking, the sharp edges, the mean comments, the quiet days and everything else.”
A small, broken laugh escapes me. “I’m not easy.”
“I know,” he says.
“And you still—”
“Yes.” The certainty in that one word makes something inside me go still. “I am not asking you to be fearless. I am sorry for…what you went through in your past and if I could I would change things, Sunshine…” He inhales deeply, “But please stay. You’renot going to ruin this, the only way we lose is if you convince yourself that you don’t deserve it which by the way is bullshit,” he beams. “Because you deserve the world.”
His forehead rests against mine. “I’m not going anywhere just because it gets difficult,” My breath trembles, “If I wanted easy, I wouldn’t be standing here with you,” he chuckles, his breath mingling with mine now, “because let’s be honest, you have not been easy on me.” He pouts.
I open my eyes and glare at him which only makes him chuckle. His gaze drops. Just for a second. To my lips. Then back to my eyes. Like he’s asking. Not taking. Not assuming. Just…waiting. My heart is racing now. I don’t move away this time. I am still scared but for once, I don’t want to move away. For once, I want to know what happens if I don’t stop it. His hand slides to the side of my face, holding me there gently.
And then—He kisses me slowly. Like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he moves too fast. And something inside me—finally—stops fighting.
