She opened the door at once.
Karan straightened reflexively, as though the sight of her had sobered him by instinct. She crossed her arms instinctively, rubbing her upper arms as she met his gaze. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, wondering if he had to. Then his gaze dropped to the floor, and he swayed slightly.
Mishti rushed forward, holding him before he could topple.
“What are you doing here?” she finally asked, supporting his heavy body.
He lifted his eyes to hers. Up close now, she could see the strain etched into his face. The sleeplessness. The exhaustion that no amount of alcohol could dull.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said quietly.
She stared at him, stunned. He couldn’t sleep, so he came here. To her? What was that supposed to mean?
Before she could respond, his knees gave a little as he stumbled again, his weight shifting toward her completely. Mishti had to brace herself against the doorframe to keep them both upright. It was clear he wasn’t in a state to stand and talk, so she guided him inside.
The moment they stepped in, and she shut the door behind them, intending to take him to the couch and make him sit, he stopped her. In one swift movement, he pinned her back againstthe door and said softly, “Me and sleeplessness… we have a close connection. First… first Maa left, and I couldn’t sleep. Not for years. And thenyouleft…” His breath hitched slightly. “And I haven’t slept at all since.”
Her eyes filled with tears, but she refused to give in.
“You are not in your senses,” she said, trying to pull him forward again, but he stopped her.
“Shh… listen to me.” Karan placed a finger over her lips, silencing her, still holding her against the wall near the door. Mishti froze. His body pressed completely against hers, his finger resting on her lips as he continued.
“I came here to ask you something…somethingIcouldn’t figure out.” He paused, still holding her gaze. “And it’s been haunting me ever since.”
Mishti looked at him with confusion and pain as he cradled her face between his palms.
“I took my revenge,” he said, stroking her cheeks ever so lightly with his rough thumbs. “I avenged my mother’s death. I did everything I swore I would. But I’m not happy.”
She swallowed hard as his eyes searched hers so deeply it felt as though he was reading her soul bare.
“You gave me my mother’s diary. Those family photographs I never even knew existed. You wished me peace. You wished me happiness. But…” His breath faltered. “I’m still miles away from it, Mishti. Why?”
He leaned his forehead against hers, with his hands still cradling her face, holding her like she was precious. She shut her eyes, her breath trembling. This was the closest they had been since their first kiss nearly a year ago. The first time since then that the distance between them had completely vanished.
They stayed like that for no idea how long, their breaths colliding, their hearts beating in sync, the tension in his body slowly easing. But Mishti could not let this continue. Every timetheir closeness like this in the past had left her aching for more, something he never gave her fully. She gathered herself and took control of the moment instead. Opening her eyes, she gently pushed him away, still holding onto his arms to make sure he did not stumble.
Without saying a single word, she guided him further inside, toward her bed. There was no other option. Sending him out of her room in this condition was no longer possible. He needed rest, and she was willing to share her room with him tonight.
But the moment she made him sit on the bed, he pulled her toward him. She almost lost her balance and ended up sitting on his lap, his arms instantly wrapping around her waist. His eyes remained fixed on hers, heavy with sleep, yet he did not blink much, as if afraid to let sleep take over before he could finish what he was here for.
Mishti was acutely aware of their position. Their faces were inches apart. Karan had never held her like this before. Her fingers curled into his shirt over his chest, fisting the fabric for support as her body trembled from their closeness.
“We’re such abarbaad-codedcouple, as the Gen Z would call it,” he said, a bitter smile briefly touching his lips. “We can’t live together happily because of the past. And we can’t live apart either.”
Tears slipped down her face, yet she held herself together.
Karan lifted his hand then, slowly, almost as if he was asking her permission without words. His thumb moved instinctively, tracing the path her tears had taken. It brushed against the corner of her mouth, catching the wetness where her tears had reached her lips, wiping them away softly.
Her lips parted without her meaning to. It wasn’t an invitation, just the quiet reaction of a woman who still remembered how his touch felt, how it always had the power to undo her. His thumb lingered there for a heartbeat longer thanit should have, resting against her lower lip, memorising the feel of her all over again.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke until Mishti carefully slid off his lap. The loss of contact made him groan, which Mishti ignored and helped him lie down.
Again, without uttering a word.
He let her, but did not let go of her hand, nor did he break eye contact. She adjusted the pillow beneath his head and gently caressed his forehead, trying to lull him into sleep. Soon his eyelids finally began to flutter, blinking harder, as if sleep was finally about to claim him.
That’s when he said it, softly, almost like a plea. “I want my peace back, Mishti… I wantyouback.”
