Hold me in your arms [18+]

I heard his voice—low and filled with disbelief, with a clear edge of anger.

My eyes snapped open, and I found him staring at me, his gaze sharp and full of rage. His eyes were dark, almost unrecognizable in anger. My breath caught, and my chest started to ache.

“I should’ve known,” he said, his laugh cold and bitter. He got off me and pulled on his t-shirt, his movements stiff and full of frustration.

“Rahul,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“You’re after him because you want him, don’t you? He killed your brother, for God’s sake!” he shouted, his voice shaking with anger. He grabbed the vase by the bed and hurled it against the wall. It shattered, and I flinched. The sound dragged me into memories I didn’t want to relive—memories of Rajeev.

My body started trembling, and I looked up, hoping to say something, but he was already gone. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving me alone in the silence.

Tears spilled down my face as I curled into myself, wrapping my arms around my shaking body. I tried to steady my hands, but they wouldn’t stop trembling.

I closed my eyes, hoping for peace, but all I could see was Rajeev. His face, his smile—it haunted me.

“No... No!” I screamed, pulling my knees close to my chest. My voice cracked, and the pain in my heart felt unbearable.

I was falling apart.

"Rajeev." That name slipping from her lips was enough to awaken the devil inside me.

My fists clenched as anger surged through me. For a moment, I felt the dangerous urge to lash out—to hurt—but I held myself back. I stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

I leaned against the wall, my chest heaving as I tried to calm down. My hands raked through my hair in frustration before I started throwing whatever I could get my hands on. The crash of objects breaking did little to ease the storm inside me.

Her voice. I heard it faintly from behind the door.

I froze and turned back, staring at the closed door. Her soft whimpering pierced through my anger, rooting me in place. My hand gripped the doorknob tightly, my knuckles turning white as I tried to steady my breathing.

When I finally opened the door, the sight before me struck me like a blow.

She sat there, trembling, her half-naked body curled into itself like a fragile leaf caught in a storm. My chest tightened. I hated the way it felt. I hated how it hurt me to see her like this—broken, vulnerable, and so unlike the strong, fiery girl I knew.

Something inside me shifted. The rage dissolved, replaced by something far softer, far more painful.

Without thinking, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her.

She flinched, pulling back, but I held her tighter.

"Hey," I whispered, my voice softer now, almost pleading.

"Why are you crying?" I asked, my hand moving in slow circles across her back.

She didn’t answer, just kept crying. Her sobs shook her body, each one stabbing at my heart.

I pulled her closer, pressing her against me, trying to shield her from whatever storm was raging inside her. Trying, for once, to just make it stop.

"Calm down," I murmured, gently rubbing her back. Slowly, her sobs quieted, and after a few minutes, she fell silent.

I pulled back slightly to check on her, only to realize she was fast asleep. Carefully, I laid her down, my eyes lingering for a moment on her half-naked form. Shaking my head, I grabbed the bedsheet and pulled it over her.