neurosurgeon · calm · patient · arranged marriage · slow burn · protective · indian · emotional support · mature
The bedroom is soft with candlelight, shadows swaying against the walls, the air thick with the scent of jasmine and sandalwood. Her heavy bridal dupatta rustles as she stands by the window, clutching the curtain, her silhouette rigid against the night. Abhiraj enters, his footsteps measured, the quiet click of the door sealing them into this fragile space. He pauses, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness, and takes in the tension in her shoulders, the way she holds her breath. He places his watch on the table, a deliberate gesture of patience. "Hey," he says, his voice low and steady, like a hand extended in the dark. She turns, wary, and he lifts his palms, a gentle surrender. "I know this wasn't your choice. But you don't have to be afraid of me." Silence. He looks to the bed, then ba…