🖤 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖎𝖝 🖤

Hriday's Pov

The sun had begun its slow descent when we stepped out of the villa. The car waited by the gate, engine humming low.

She wore a pale green suit now-simple, soft, and somehow more graceful than anything designer could have made her look. Her hair was loosely braided to the side, a few of the rebellious strands adding to her soft beauty.

I grabbed the duffel I'd packed for her earlier-extra clothes, some cash, the phone-and locked the villa behind us.

We didn't speak much as the car pulled away.

The city of Udaipur stretched around us-its lakes reflecting the dusky sky, the palaces dipped in molten gold. I rarely kept guards. Shadows that moved when I did made me uncomfortable. Always had. I preferred silence, the kind I could predict.

She sat quietly beside me, forehead tilted toward the glass, watching the orange horizon. Not sad. Not peaceful either.

Then, halfway through the drive, her voice came-soft but certain.

"There's time before the train, right?"

I glanced at my watch. "Half an hour."

"Can we stop at that temple?" she asked, nodding toward the sandstone structure in the distance. The sandhya aarti (evening prayer) had begun. Chants floated on the breeze like threads of sound and smoke.

"I... I'd like to pray. Starting over deserves some blessings, right?"

I slowed the car and pulled up near the steps.

She stepped out, pausing just slightly as if waiting.

"Coming?" she asked, turning.

I hesitated. "I don't really do temples."

She smirked faintly. "Well, you don't really rescue runaway brides either. Maybe it's a week of firsts."

That made me chuckle-just a breath-but I followed her in.

The temple courtyard was warm with firelight. Bells rang in rhythm, incense smoke curled through the air. People swayed in prayer. She pulled her dupatta over her head and walked in with the kind of quiet grace that made others shift gently to give her space.

I stayed a few steps behind, hands in pockets. Out of place. Watching.

She reached the sanctum, folded her hands, and closed her eyes. For a second, she looked untouchable-like something plucked out of an old story. No panic, no running. Just peace.

Then she turned, and just as the priest passed the aarti thali, she caught it and held it in reverence.

She circled it in front of the deity, then turned and elbowed me lightly.

I blinked. "What?"

"Your turn," she whispered, glancing at the flame.

"I don't-"

She arched a brow. "You've already racked up good karma points. Might as well top them off."

I sighed and stepped forward. Our fingers brushed as she passed me the plate. Warm skin, a little hesitation.

I mimicked her motions clumsily. Not my territory.

When I turned to hand the thali back, she was already bending to touch the priest's feet.

He looked down with kind eyes and smiled, placing his hand on her head.
"Sada sukhi raho, beta," he said.
("May you always remain happy and blessed, child.")

She murmured a quiet Dhanyavaad, and stood again.

Then the priest looked at her hands-her palms-and paused.

His smile deepened.
"Arre wah... Mehendi ka rang toh bahut gehra hai," he said.
("Oh wow... the color of your mehendi is so deep.")

He looked over at me now, amused.
"Jitna gehra rang hota hai, utna hi pati ka pyaar hota hai."
("The deeper the color of a bride's mehendi, the deeper the husband's love.")

Her eyes widened. Mine probably did too.

We both opened our mouths at the same time. "It's not-"

But before either of us could explain, the priest was already smiling and motioning for us to come closer.

"Chalo, ab dono aashirvaad le lo."
("Come, both of you-accept the blessings.")

Still stunned, we bent down together to touch his feet.

He placed his hands gently on both our heads, voice soft but firm.
"Jodi salamat rahe. Sukh aur samriddhi ho tum dono par."
("May your bond remain strong. May happiness and prosperity be yours.")

Then, in a more playful tone, he added,
"Apni patni ki baat isi tarah mana kijiye, beta. Hamesha sukhi rahenge."
("Keep listening to your wife like this, son. That's the secret to happiness.")

We were too stunned to speak.

She glanced at me, her lips parted slightly like she wanted to say something-but the words got lost in the incense haze.

I tried to offer some awkward correction, but the priest had already moved on to the next family.

We stood frozen for a moment.

Then she let out a breath and laughed softly. "Well... that escalated quickly."

I chuckled too. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

She tilted her head slightly, the flame of the temple lamps dancing in her eyes.

"Maybe," she said, smiling gently. "But-"
Her gaze lingered on my face for a second longer than I expected.
"You look nice when you smile, Hriday."

I blinked. My smirk faltered, just a little.

She turned quickly, avoiding my eyes. "Let's go, Mr. Doesn't-Do-Temples."

We walked back down the steps in silence, the air golden and thick with chant smoke.

But just as we reached the final stair, something shifted.

A man brushed past me.

Too close.

Too fast.

My neck prickled. Instincts flared.

His arm jerked.

I caught his wrist mid-motion.

Too late.

The injection splitted into two, a second needle coming out.

A sharp sting bloomed near my arm. My breath caught.

"You-" I snarled, twisting his arm.

But he ducked and vanished into the crowd. Gone.

She was instantly at my side.

"Hriday-what just happened?!"

I looked at arm. My coat was torn, a small patch of red beginning to seep through.

"Someone injected me. With something."

Her eyes went wide. "What?! Are you-are you okay?"

"I don't know," I said quietly, but something already felt... wrong. Tight. Tilted.

She reached for my hand. "We're going to the hospital. Now. I'm not arguing."

But the world had already begun to lean.

The last thing I saw was the swirl of her dupatta, the terror in her voice-and the gold of the temple fading into shadow.