JAAN ( Darr 2 )

The Flight

Carefully, he slipped out from under her, moving silently as he stood.

 He watched her for a moment longer before turning to the small kitchenette. His mind was a tangle of thoughts, but he could do one thing, something simple. 

He could make breakfast. She would need something to eat after all.

As he quietly gathered what little was in the kitchen, his thoughts kept drifting back to her.

 He thought of her smile, how her touch had felt so certain, while his had been full of doubt. He thought of her kisses, her lips reassuring him again and again that it wasn't just a dream. 

But underneath it all, he was scared. 

Scared and even sure that she might regret it. 

Scared that when morning fully arrived, reality would crash down on them both.

The sound of the kettle whistling pulled him back to the present.

 He busied himself with making tea and toast, the smell filling the small space, mingling with the soft light of dawn.

 As the tea steeped, Rahul leaned against the counter, his eyes once again drifting to Kiran. She still hadn't stirred, her expression peaceful. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to breathe. Whatever came next, he would find a way to make it work. He would be anything she needed him to be. For now, in the quiet of the morning, he would let this moment last.

Kiran woke slowly, her body still heavy with the lingering pull of sleep. 

The warmth of the bed, the faint scent of tea in the air, and the soft clinking of dishes wrapped around her in a cocoon of comfort. 

But with wakefulness came the memories of last night, 

A dull ache settled in her chest as thoughts of Sunil crept back. How many mornings had she woken up alone, with no sign of him, no explanation, no care?

She shook off the thought as she slid out of bed. The cool air of the room greeted her as she stretched, her muscles stiff from sleep. 

She spotted the dress she had washed last night, still slightly damp but clean. Quietly, she gathered her things and slipped into the bathroom.

Under the warm spray of the shower, she tried to clear her mind, but the thoughts swirled persistently.

 When she finally stepped out, wrapping herself in a towel, she looked at the black dress hanging from the hook.

She slipped it on, the cool fabric clinging to her damp skin. Her hair, still wet, dripped slightly down her back. She ran her fingers through it but didn't bother to dry it completely. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the bathroom and into the kitchen.

Rahul stood by the stove, his back to her, focused on finishing breakfast. She approached quietly, her bare feet soundless against the floor, but he must have sensed her because he turned, and froze.

His eyes widened slightly as he took her in. 

His gaze lingered on her wet hair, the way the dress clung to her, the droplets of water still shimmering on her skin. For a moment, he just stood there like a deer caught in headlights.

"What?" she asked, her voice soft, a hint of teasing.

 "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Rahul blinked, realizing he'd been staring. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, a faint blush creeping up his neck. "You... you look..."