BOUND BY FATE

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AARADHYA'S POV:
As I mustered the courage to approach him, my heart skipped a beat. His appearance was frightening - his body was drenched in sweat, his breathing was uneven, and his hair was disheveled. I tried to hold his bleeding hand, but he whispered in a hoarse voice that sent shivers down my spine, "Don't Aaradhya...just don't." His gaze remained fixed on some point ahead, refusing to acknowledge my presence.

"Chali jao yaha se Aaradhya," he said, his voice cold and controlled, devoid of any emotions or warmth. The tone sent a chill down my spine, hinting that he was on the verge of breaking, yet struggling to maintain his composure. I attempted to hold his hand again, noticing the deep gash that seemed to be bleeding profusely, possibly from a collision with glass. He jerked his hand away, grasping my shoulders instead.

"Tumhe samjh kyun nhi aa rha hai... I said leave me alone Aaradhya," he reiterated, his voice firm but laced with a hint of desperation. Yet, instead of being intimidated, I looked directly into his eyes, seeing beyond the façade of anger to the vulnerability he was desperately trying to conceal. His eyes, though attempting to appear fierce, betrayed a deep sense of pain and weakness.

"Aapke haath se khoon beh rha hai Mr. Rathore," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, trying to convey a sense of concern. He released his grip on my shoulders and turned away without a word, leaving me bewildered. Just a few minutes ago, he was composed and normal in the room; what could have triggered this sudden transformation?

I decided to take matters into my own hands and turned to head inside to retrieve a first aid box. My priority was to stop Rudransh's bleeding, and I couldn't just stand there and do nothing. As I rushed towards the mansion, I was met with a surprise. Shivaansh was already standing in the entrance, a look of worry etched on his face, and a first aid box clutched in his hand. He stepped closer to me, his eyes locked on mine, and handed me the box. "Take this," he urged, his voice laced with concern.

I took the box, my eyes meeting Shivaansh's, and he continued, his voice filled with desperation. "Please go and stop his bleeding. Rudransh's temper is uncontrollable, and he's taking it out on himself. He's hurting himself, Aaradhya." The worry in his voice was palpable, and I could sense the depth of his concern for his brother. But what struck me as odd was that Shivaansh himself didn't come to Rudransh's aid. Why was that?

"Please, jao," Shivaansh urged again, his eyes pleading with me to go and help his brother. I nodded, took a deep breath, and turned to head back to the garden. As I did, I caught a glimpse of Rudransh's parents standing inside, their faces expressionless. I couldn't help but wonder about the dynamics of this family. Why did they all seem so distant from each other? What secrets lay hidden beneath the surface?

I pushed aside my thoughts and rushed back to the garden, the first aid box clutched in my hand. Rudransh was still standing in the same spot, his eyes fixed on some point ahead. I approached him cautiously, not wanting to startle him. Without saying a word, I gently took his hand, trying to examine the wound. He resisted at first, but I held firm, my grip tight but gentle.

"Let me just bandage your wound," I coaxed, trying to reassure him. "Or else it may get infected." Rudransh looked at me, his eyes searching mine. I could sense the turmoil brewing inside him, the struggle to keep his emotions in check.

"Kuch nhi bolungi," I promised, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll just clean your wound and after cleaning it, without a single word, I'll leave." I meant every word, knowing that if he didn't want me there, I would respect his boundaries and give him the space he needed...