"I put us in a really awkward situation, didn't I?" I ask, looking outside the glass doors, unable to meet his eyes. I'm embarrassed and stuck, having nowhere to go unless my brother and his latest quest disappears all of a sudden. But that's not happening anytime soon. So I had no choice but to occupy the chair again, in his room that he isn't happy sharing with me. Honestly, if I was in his place, I'd have felt the same irritation.

"Is that chair comfortable?" Instead of agreeing with me and making me more ashamed of myself, he changes the topic.

I shift slightly to look at him and plaster a forced smile on my face. "It is."

"It doesn't look like." He shrugs from the bed.

"Shourya, have you ever sat for hours in those metallic hospital chairs?" I tilt my head curiously.

"No." He replies.

"I have." I murmur. "My mother was a nurse. I'm sure you know that already. She used to take night shifts whenever she could. On those nights, she couldn't afford a babysitter for her six year old daughter at home. She needed to save money. So she used to pick me from my school at three, and from then to six in the morning, I used to sleep on those chairs. There were rare times when I got the beds in some empty wards or duty rooms, but during those nights, I wasn't able to sleep."

"Why?" He sits straighter.

"I couldn't see my mother. Without her wasn't the place I wanted to grow familiar with. When I used to sit on those chairs while she was running around with that notepad clutched to her chest, I'd wave at her and she'd smile back at me. Sometimes she'd stop by and give me kisses. Knowing that my mother is just somewhere around, glancing at me, would put me at ease. I felt safer out in the open than in the closed four walled rooms." I murmur fondly, the memories flooding back, and there was never a moment in those days that I felt unwanted. It began when I grew up and started to take care of myself better than she did when I realised I was neglected as a child.

It never made me resent my mother though. It just made me regret being born. My mother was doing double shifts just so I can sleep full stomach, so I can have good education, a better lifestyle. My woman exhausted her young life, worked day and night, for me. And what did she get in return? Cancer, last stage.

I had so many dreams.

So many ambitions.

And she was in all of them, I had them all for her.

"What are you thinking?"

"Huh?" I come out of the daze.

"You were thinking something. What is it?"

I interlace my fingers together, twisting and knotting them to keep myself distracted from tearing up. "I had a future planned with her. Once I finish my university and get a well paying job, I'd buy her the most expensive perfume, would take her out for a fancy dinner, we'd have so much fun and we'd travel the world. She went so early."

"I'd never imagine my future with anyone. People are temporary."

My hands pause and I spare him a long glance. "We never love with the idea of forever, Shourya. We love with the hope of it. Everyone knows the reality. I knew my mother's presence in my life is short-lived, and I had to accept that when she was diagnosed with cancer. But that didn't stop me from loving her. And that didn't stop me from having the hope of forever. The painful months before she left me, hope was what kept me moving."

"So you feel with intensity, despite knowing it has a brutal end?"

"I never knew I can control what I feel." I shake my head. "You never allow yourself to feel, Shourya, you feel, and you allow yourself to either accept it or deny it. That's in your power. Nothing else." I whisper. "And it's only brutal when we think of it as brutal. Life is not a war. It's not either a marvelous victory, or a bloody defeat. It's not a game. It's not a race. It's not a plan."

"Then what is it? What other meaning does life have?"

"I don't know." I shake my head. "Something that's different for everyone cannot have the same definition. My life, I feel, is about letting go of my mother so she can rest in peace, it's about finding my place in my new family, it's about growing with them, making memories that I can remember forever, settling down with a good man, having his babies," I chuckle at how silly I sound. "Watch him mow our lawn during the weekends while I make lunch in the kitchen. Having a life I'll be happy to live. Having a life I'll forever choose if given a second chance. That's my definition of life, Shourya. I'd never know what's yours. You do, you haven't acknowledged it yet."

He hugs his legs and plants his chin on his knee cap. His eyes forlorn, staring into the distance, while I shift my attention back outside the glass doors. The night is alive with lights and car honks, with bustling adults and tired senior citizens. The silence that prevails between us, as I expected, isn't awkward. If this was a movie scene, they'd have shown a timelapse of the night. A quick end. I wish it was real. I could have got out of here faster.

"Should we go to sleep?" Suddenly, he suggests.

I shift again in my chair. I'm really tired and in need of a good sleep. We travelled the whole day, barely stopping, barely resting. After dinner I planned to catch some good sleep to prepare myself for the next day. I guess, it goes to the drain now. I'll have to adjust on this tiny sofa chair, and I can't complain. I brought it on me when I dragged him here without even thinking ahead in time.

"Sure. Good night." I smile and turn away.

"You know the bed is big enough, right?"

I clear my throat. "I really don't want to bother you anymore. And I'm fine here, trust me."

"I know you had a habit of sleeping on chairs, but that was when you were six, Tara. Remember you said you're a high maintenance girl?" I chuckle at that, and he smiles, the air between us light and breezy. "I really don't want the princess of Jaigarh to sleep on the chair whole night. As a prince of Rajgarh, it's not in my values."

"Oh, you're being a gentleman now?" I smirk.

"I've always been."

"You ogled my personal maid when we first met."

"I've always been since I lost my memories." He corrects himself.

I laugh softly.

"Come over. The bed is huge enough." He pats the space beside him.

"Thanks." I get up from the chair and reluctantly sit on the side of the bed, slowly pulling my legs up before I scoot further to lie down. "Can you turn off the lights?" I request him softly.

He nods and switches off the main lights except for his side lamp.

"Are you not sleeping?" I clasp my hands on my stomach, shaking my crossed feet impatiently, desperately wanting the sleep to knock me out. I can't bear another conscious second with him on the same bed.

"Mind if I read?" He grabs a book from the side drawer.

I sit up straight in surprise. "You read?" My brows shoot upward.

"Why is that a shock?"

"I never imagined you to be someone who likes to read."

"And I imagined you to be someone who loves to read." He counters.

"People are so unpredictable." I chuckle and lie back down. "What do you like to read?"

He shrugs, showing me the title of the book.

"Robotics?" I snort. "Yeah, no, now it's not a surprise." I roll my eyes.

"Why?"

"You're smart. I can't imagine you reading fictional books and giggle when the male lead appears."

He smiles. "I do read horror sometimes."

"You wouldn't giggle when the ghost comes." I scoff.

I hear him let out a breathy chuckle. "True."

We fall silent again. I fail to sleep because of the lights. I need complete darkness and silence when I'm trying to sleep. I'm not a deep sleeper. I'm not one of those who are knocked out the moment their head touches the pillow.

Releasing a deep sigh, I turn sides and lie facing the balcony.

"Still can't sleep?" I ask him tiredly.

"Am I disturbing you?" And he flips the page.

I close my eyes in irritation. "I'm a very light sleeper. I can't tolerate even the faintest of sound. And I need complete darkness."

"Indeed high maintenance." He mumbles.

I get up and twist my body to face. "You invited me in the bed!"

He smirks. "Did I, now?"

I roll my eyes. "Don't start."

He closes the book with his thumb holding the current page. "What?"

"Flirting." I state. "You've been flirting with me from the time we got off the flight."

"If I was to flirt with you, Tara, you'd be coming to my bed willingly. I wouldn't have to invite you."

"You're so infuriating. We really gelled well in the last hour. And now you ruined it." My head hits the pillow again and I pull my knees up, staring at the ceiling in annoyance.

Finally, he places the book aside and turns off the night lamp. I sigh in relief, waiting for him to lie down. A few minutes pass but he doesn't, and when I look up at him, he already has his eyes closed, his arms crossed on his chest, corded muscles and veins all flexing sexily. "What are you doing?" I get up halfway, leaning on my hand planted on the bed.

He opens his eyes and fixes those brown pools on me. "Sleeping. You said you like dark and silence." He whispers.

I blink. "Then sleep!"

"I am, Tara. This is how I sleep."

My brows furrow together in confusion. Why is he always so calm? Even when saying the most weirdest things in the world. "Like this?" I look at his posture. "What are you? A horse?"

He uncrosses his arms and interlinks his fingers together on his lap. "Horses sleep while standing. I'm seated."

I'm speechless. He finds sense in the argument, not the point.

"It's weird."

"Is it?" He mutters under his breath, then his eyes settle back on me. "Well, this is how I sleep. And now you should go to sleep too. I won't turn on the lights again."

"Don't make me feel guilty by acting so pliant." I huff and plop back down, turning the other side and cushioning my head on my joint hands.

I close my eyes, hoping sleep comes to me easily. I'm not used to sharing my bed. Dad and Vivaan are exceptions. They are my safe space. But Shourya is of my age, a boy, handsome, who likes to casually flirt with me and then deny the idea, and he has a weird habit of sleeping seated, like a workaholic, like maybe my eldest brother. I'm apprehensive and on alert, ready to flee the bed and scream bloody murder if I feel him trying to take advantage of our situation. But for hour long nothing happens and eventually, I give in to the lure of slumber.

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of car horns and factory sirens.

And then I realise what I'm sleeping on. Shourya's lap is comfortable, but the fact that it's not my pillow is terrifying. I swallow thickly, sleep flying out the window when I notice it's me who has scoot over and he's perfectly fast asleep in his sitting position. What's even more strange is that he has his muscular arm draped across mine and his larger, colder hand is cupping my fist. If I gravitated towards him for comfort, he was pulled in for the warmth.

I pull my hand out of his and wrap it around his wrist, trying to put his arm off, but instead, he groans and wounds it around my bare waist, like he's gathering me close to him, unhappy to let me go.

The cold touch freezes me like a block of ice.

I feel my heart drop into the chaos of my stomach. Whatever reactions are happening in my body right now doesn't seem healthy. I might need to be rushed into the ER if he touches me anywhere else.

There's no way he's letting me go unconscious. I have to make him confront our current situation no matter how awkward it is for both of us.

"Shourya," I whisper and slowly turn on my back. My breath hitches at the sight of him. He's absolutely stunning under the sunrays. I've no idea how God left this creation of his unsupervised. It feels illegal to look at him in his most vulnerable state. And I've never seen a more surreal existence before.

Even when my thoughts were occupied by Rudra back in India, I never denied just how beautiful Shourya looks even while doing the bare minimum to live; breathing.

I force myself to blink and take a deep breath. "Shourya," I call out again. His hand slips over my navel, expanding and owning, before it reaches over to hold me by the waist again. I suck in a shaky breath. I lightly grab his forearm and push it aside, sitting up slowly so I don't disturb him.

And the moment I manage to escape, his arms shoot out and yank me to his chest, "No!"

I gasp in shock, my eyes widening to their limit. His open too, looking into mine through a daze, that eventually breaks and realises he has pulled me over his lap instinctively. He quickly lets me go. "I'm sorry," he shifts away, almost to the edge, rubbing both of his hands across his face, groaning slightly in the cup of his palm. "God, I'm so sorry." He gets off the bed. "You should go," he strides over to the door and looks outside. "No one's outside. Leave." There's a detachment in his tone that I'm not used to.

I swallow my pride and climb out of the bed, glancing at him as he avoids looking at me before I step out and the door slams shut behind me, making me flinch.

It feels like a walk of shame back to my room. I close the door and rake a hand through my hair, crawling into my bed before I bury my face into the pillow. My phone on the nightstand starts to ring.

I pick it up and press the screen to my ear. "Yes?"

"How's my little star doing?"

I smile effortlessly quick. "Dad, I miss you."

"Tsk, don't say that, Tara. You're tearing up your old man."

I chuckle. "How are you? What time is it there?"

"It's around 2 am. I just got done with an emergency surgery." He mutters, sounding complete exhausted.

"And you thought calling me is more important than catching the much needed sleep?" I taunt.

"Yes." I hear him chuckle. "You'd always be more important to me."

"Well, I'm flattered to hear that, but that doesn't mean I'm sliding this away. You need to sleep, Dad."

"I will. Eventually."

"Which will be never." I snort.

"What has got my daughter so irritated this early in the morning?"

Shourya Singh Rajawat.

He treated me like I was caught molesting him. When it was the other way around.

"Nothing. I just miss you, that's all."

"Oh, is it? I can't wait to see you."

"See me when? How many years later?" I grumble sarcastically.

"Two weeks later, actually."

I gasp. "What?"

He chortles. "Oh God, Vivaan is going to be so mad at me if he finds out I spoiled his surprise. We'll be coming with Yuvaan to London to get you guys settled in."

I squeal happily.

My father laughs at my excitement.

"Eek! I can't wait! You're staying with us for at least a week, okay!" I instruct him.

"Yes, my little star."

"Great! Now you go to sleep. Enough timepass."

"Okay, mumma!"

I smile fondly. "Good night, my son. Dream of sweet things." I play along.

He laughs harder. "You're such a breath of fresh air. I love you."

"I love you too, Dad. Good night."

"Good morning to you. Have fun."

"Yeah, I will." We hang up on each other and I toss the phone on the nightstand, looking at it longingly.

Even Yuvaan called me yesterday while we were at the cafe, but Yuvraaj didn't bother to check up on us with a text. Sometimes he's such a worrywart and sometimes, like now, I might be dead and he'll be clicking his tongue in disappointment because his meetings had to be rescheduled.

My phone blinks with a message and I pick it up hurriedly.

Group Vacation 🏖️

(Not Bhai 😤, Twin 001 💩, Twin 002 🥄, Plastic Surgery 💰💃, Tour Guide)

Tour Guide: hey guys, I'll be waiting for you all in the lobby at nine am. Be there on time! I've already shared today's schedule in the pdf form. Dress appropriately.
Seen by all.

Twin 001 💩: okay!

Not Bhai 😤: 👍

I send my reply too and check the pdf file attached underneath. By dressing appropriately she meant we'll be trekking today. I quickly put the phone away and shuffle through my options before settling on a pair of fitted blue jeans, black tank top, and an oversized blue striped white shirt. I completely the outfit with a baseball cap and white sneakers. This time the backpack goes with my outfit so I stuff inside all the necessary things, like charger, moisturizer, lip balm, packaged water bottle, an extra pair of clothes, a comb, power bank, some cash and a pullover sweater.

When I leave the room, Agastya is coming out of his, followed by Arush. The two walk over to the telephone to order breakfast. I squint my eyes at the eldest. Did he send off the girl in the middle of the night? It's all because of him and his horniness that I had to spend a night in Shourya's room.

As if it's the universe showing me a middle finger, the door to Shourya's room opens and he steps out, dressed in beige joggers, white tshirt and a brown pullover hoodie.

The moment our eyes meet, he looks away.

Great, now he's avoiding me. Fine by me. I always wanted us to avoid each other as much as we can. At least now he'll stop flirting with me.

"Tara," I startle hearing Ayush so close. "Sorry," he smile sheepishly when I look at him in alarm.

"What is it?"

"Tara, we had so much fun last night. Agastya Bhai will be going out again tonight, we're planning to go back there. Join us!" He looks at me hopefully.

"Where did you go?"

He beams. "Club! That Director's son, he got us entry. His uncle owns it. As long as we don't drink alcohol or stir trouble, we're welcome there."

"That's illegal."

"We didn't drink!" He exclaims.

I cock a brow at him.

He sighs in defeat. "Okay, fine. But just a little out of curiosity. C'mon, Tara, it'll be so much fun! Please? I really missed you yesterday!"

"What if we get caught?"

"Did we yesterday? We returned early, didn't we? We'll do the same today."

I contemplate in my head. His plans has more cons than pros. But I'm seriously not looking forward to spend another night alone with Shourya.

"And what about Shourya?" I ask softly.

"I'm sure he'll tag along. And if he doesn't, he'll stay back. It's not that he'll tattletale behind us."

"Sure?" It sounds tempting and temptations are always bad.

"Yes."

I purse my lips thoughtfully.

"You coming now?" He looks at me with hopeful eyes.

My smile slips and I nod, agreeing to his plans.

"Yes! We're going to have so much fun!"

I just hope that doesn't include trouble.

At this point, trouble and you are soulmates, Tara.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Don't forget to vote and comment. Makes my day.