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~present~

Y/n's POV:

The air was thin, cold. And almost unreal.

For a moment, my mind refused to register what was happening right in front of my eyes. The rush of adrenaline surges through me, my body trembled— not from fear but something more deeper. I could hear the distant sounds of the forests, the crisp rustling of leaves, the insects. The soldier who held a torch whispered something. But all of it faded in the background. Because right in front of me, sitting as if torn apart from a dream– is him.

-Sarat..

His name finally escaped from my lips in a whisper. As if I am making myself believe that it is really him.
His eyes moved. He got up and pulled me up on my feet, my eyes never leaving his.

Two years.

Two years of separation. And two months of complete silence– searching, trying. Only to be met with nothing. The weight of ominous thoughts and the tension and worries. An unfinished story.
And now here he is–
Alive. Breathing.

My throat constricted, the sheer force of emotions rendering me speechless.
Sarat’s eyes locked onto mine, dark and unreadable. His face was partially shadowed by the dim light, the sharp angles of his features more pronounced. He looked different—his once neatly kept hair now unkempt, a rough stubble covering his jaw, his uniform worn from the harshness of the life he had been living.

Yet, it was still him.

The same Sarat who once sat beside me on the terrace, silent yet present. The same Sarat whose absence had been a constant ache in my chest. His grip on my wrist loosened completely, as if just now realizing he had been holding onto me.

-You— ~My voice broke before I could finish.~
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his breath uneven. His eyes flickered with something—hesitation, disbelief, a storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface.
The soldier beside him glanced between us, his brows furrowing.
-Sir—
Sarat signalled him to stop.
-Yes. I know her. She is no danger. Leave us for a moment and please keep the north-east direction on check. I will join you later. ~his voice was hoarse, commanding~
The soldier hesitated, but a single look from Sarat had him stepping back into the darkness, leaving just the two of us under the silver moonlight.

The silence was deafening. My lips parted, my hands clenched at my sides, my chest rising and falling rapidly as the adrenaline refused to settle. I wanted to say something. Ask something. Scream, cry, demand answers. But nothing came out.

Sarat took a slow step forward.

My breath hitched.

His eyes flickered over my face, taking in every detail—my windblown hair, my trembling lips, the sheer disbelief that I was standing here in front of him.

And then, before I could even process it
his hand reached out. His fingertips grazed my cheek, barely a touch, yet enough to send a shiver through my entire being. His palm, calloused and warm despite the cold night, cupped my jaw ever so gently—like he was afraid I would disappear if he held too tightly.
My eyes burned, and I hated how easily the tears gathered.

-You’re real. ~I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.~
His fingers twitched against my skin. His breath fanned over my face—shallow, uneven, as if he is just as unsteady as I am.
And then, slowly—achingly slowly—his forehead dipped forward, resting against mine.
The touch was hesitant, fragile. Yet it shattered something inside me.
My hands found their way to the front of his uniform before I could stop them, clutching the fabric tightly. My knuckles turned white from the force, from the sheer desperation of needing to hold onto something.