MasukNoted. This is how one consoles. With touch. With closeness. With presence. I’ll remember this. I’ll do the same to her one day. I’ll trace every wound she carries and kiss it until she forgets it ever hurt. I turned and pulled her fully into me, wrapping her body against my chest. She shift
"I would handle Yamini. He would handle the girl." Her breath hitched. "What do you mean… taking care of that minor girl?" I glanced at her lazily. She had empathy to throw at everyone—everyone but me. She didn’t even know that bitch. "Whatever my brother planned to." Her eyes hardened.
"He begged". "I remember that part too clearly—because even now, begging makes my skin crawl." "He dropped to his knees in front of my mother, hands shaking, voice breaking, swearing on God, on me, on the air he breathed. He said my name like it was a shield. Like using me would make him cleaner".
"Do you want to know about my mother"? I asked. She looked up at me in my hold as she nodded. I contemplated. About from where to start. I only knew her from the day I was born. But there is so much to tell her before I was born. My mother's family, and her background. “My mother…Manvi.... That
She turned away from me, clutching the blanket like a shield, twisting her fingers into the fabric as if it could protect her from me. Her shoulders were stiff, her breath shallow, her long hair falling over one side like a dark river she could hide behind. Tonight the sheets were black. My color.
Her lips quivered. “Please…” I let the silence stretch until it filled the room like smoke. Then I leaned back, one arm slung over the chair, smirking. “Fine. If you can’t take it off,” I drawled, letting my eyes linger deliberately on her trembling hands clutching at her blouse, “then I’ll take s




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