The trials were over, the legacy had been uncovered, and yet, Aarya found herself facing something far more unfamiliar—love.

She had spent so much of her life chasing ghosts, unraveling the secrets buried in paint and whispers, that the idea of belonging to someone, of sharing herself without caution, had never seemed possible.

Until Veer.

He had been there since the beginning, watching her, guiding her, protecting her. But it had never been just about duty. There was something deeper—an understanding neither of them spoke of, yet felt with every glance, every touch, every moment shared in the quiet after the storm.

At first, it was subtle.

Long walks through the city when neither could sleep. Conversations that stretched until dawn, revealing pieces of themselves neither had spoken aloud before. The way Veer would linger just a little longer when they said goodbye, as if reluctant to part.

Then, it became undeniable.

One evening, as the archive whispered around them and the rain drummed against the windows, Aarya found herself sitting across from Veer, a cup of tea in her hands, exhaustion clinging to her like a second skin.

She hadn’t spoken in minutes, content with the silence between them. Veer, however, watched her with a softness that unsettled her more than any mystery ever had.

She set her cup down. “What?”

He tilted his head slightly. “Nothing.”

Aarya narrowed her eyes. “Liar.”

Veer smirked but didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his arms against his knees, studying her like he was memorizing every detail.

“You’ve changed,” he murmured.

Aarya exhaled. “So have you.”

Something shifted between them then—a realization that had long been lingering but had never been confronted.

She could have walked away.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she reached for him, fingers hesitant but sure, brushing against his. Veer inhaled sharply, his gaze flickering between caution and desire, and when Aarya didn’t pull away, neither did he.

It wasn’t a grand confession. There were no declarations, no theatrics. It was just them—two souls intertwined by fate, by choice, by the weight of everything they had survived together.

And from that moment on, they stopped pretending.

They spent nights wrapped in the quiet solace of each other’s presence, their conversations slipping into laughter, into whispers, into something raw and unguarded.

Days turned into weeks, and soon, Aarya found herself waking up in Veer’s apartment more often than her own. Her paintings were stacked against his walls, her books rested beside his, her life slowly merging with his in ways neither had planned but both had embraced.

It wasn’t perfect. There were arguments, misunderstandings, moments when the weight of their pasts threatened to pull them apart.

But they always found their way back.

Because love had never been something either of them had sought.

But it was something they had found.

And neither was willing to let go.

~TO BE CONTINUED...