"Whispers of Fate"

Mannat woke up to the faint sound of the shower running. Blinking sleep away, she turned her head slightly, noticing Vihaan's side of the bed was empty. The bedside lamp was still on, and a neatly folded blanket rested at the foot of the bed.

Stretching, she slowly sat up, only to wince as a dull ache settled in her lower back. Before she could dwell on it, the bathroom door opened, and Vihaan stepped out, towel-drying his hair. He was already dressed in his usual crisp white shirt and black trousers, the top button undone, making him look effortlessly sharp.

His eyes flicked to her immediately. "You're awake," he observed, his voice neutral.

Mannat hummed, running a hand through her tousled hair. "Barely."

Without another word, Vihaan walked over to her side of the bed, placing a glass of warm milk and a small bowl of almonds on the nightstand.

"Eat," he said simply, as if it were a routine.

Mannat wrinkled her nose. "Milk? Seriously?"

Vihaan gave her a look. "You need it."

She sighed, picking up the glass reluctantly. "You're becoming worse than Dadu."

"Good," he deadpanned, rolling his sleeves up. Just as she thought he would leave, he surprised her by sitting beside her. "Turn around."

Mannat frowned. "Why?"

"Your back still hurts, doesn't it?" He didn't wait for her response, gently pressing his fingers against the sore muscles at the base of her spine.

She inhaled sharply as warmth spread through her skin. "Vihaan, you don't have to-"

"Just sit still," he murmured, his touch firm yet careful, easing the tension in her muscles just as he had done the night before.

Mannat let out a soft sigh, feeling herself relax against his touch. "You have a meeting, don't you?" she mumbled.

"I'm taking it here."

Her eyes snapped open. "Here? In the room?"

Vihaan nodded, standing up and walking to the desk in the corner. He set up his laptop, adjusted his chair, and then looked back at her. "You need rest. I'm not leaving you alone."

Mannat stared at him, unsure of what to say. He was always so composed, so professional-delaying or shifting meetings wasn't something Vihaan rajput ever did.

Yet here he was, adjusting his schedule without a second thought.

She bit the inside of her cheek, watching as he put on his earpiece and joined the meeting, his voice shifting to its usual authoritative tone.

Mannat drifted in and out of sleep, Vihaan's low yet commanding voice serving as a strange lullaby in the background. Even with his meeting ongoing, his presence in the room made her feel oddly at ease.

At one point, she turned onto her side, stretching lazily, when a sharp knock at the door startled her. Before she could sit up fully, Vihaan shot her a look, silently telling her to stay put. He muted his microphone and walked to the door, opening it just enough to speak to whoever was outside.

"What is it?" His tone was clipped, professional.

"Sir, the documents you asked for," the staff member replied hesitantly, glancing into the room.

Mannat could tell they were surprised-Vihaan never worked from his bedroom.

Vihaan took the file without another word and shut the door, exhaling softly. Turning back, his gaze immediately landed on her. "Why are you awake?"