Author's pov
The morning sun cast a faint glow across the small living room as Riya Sen closed her bedroom door softly, hoping not to disturb the silence that usually marked her parents’ morning routine. Her father sat at the kitchen table, his eyes glued to his phone, while her stepmother, Mrs. Singh, sipped coffee with a detached grace, barely acknowledging Riya’s presence as she walked in.
"You're late again," Mrs. Singh’s voice cut through the room, cool and distant.
Riya gave a small nod, swallowing down the familiar sting of their indifference. She'd grown used to the glances that seemed to measure her every move, used to the constant feeling of not being wanted in a house that should have felt like home. To her, each day felt like she was trying to dance in shoes that didn't fit, always stepping wrong, always falling short.
Despite the coldness of her family, Riya had a softness in her heart that no harsh words could erode. She wore her sweetness like armor, always smiling, always gentle—a kindness that ran so deep, it was as though she was determined to defy the bitterness around her. But today, that patience was wearing thin, and she found herself glancing at the clock on the wall, counting down the minutes until she could leave for Neha's place.
Neha Roy was her best friend, her escape, and one of the few people who saw Riya for who she truly was. They’d been inseparable since they first met, and Neha's home had quickly become Riya’s second sanctuary—a place where laughter and warmth wrapped around her like a blanket. Even now, she clung to the thought of Neha’s cheerful voice and comforting presence.
Her father's curt voice interrupted her thoughts, bringing her back to the sterile, empty kitchen. “We’ll be home late tonight,” he said, his tone flat and unfeeling. No question of where she was going or how she was doing, only instructions like she was some part of a chore list.
Riya nodded, her heart already halfway out the door. She grabbed her bag and stepped into the chilly morning, breathing in the fresh air as she walked towards Neha’s house, a hint of a smile finally appearing on her face. Away from her father’s stony expressions and Mrs. Singh’s disdain, she could breathe again.
As she rang Neha's doorbell, Riya felt a surge of relief, knowing that at least here, someone was waiting for her with open arms.
Riya hug Neha when she open the door
Neha look at Riya
Neha :- Don't tell me did they do something to you
Riya:-No they didn't chill
Neha:- "Tere uss good for nothing supnakha mom ka koi bharosa nahi
Acha toh tu beth yaha main ate hu"
Riya give her a nod
After sometime Neha ask her bro can you pls bring packet of bread from the shop you know I'm lazy to go
Riya gave her a playful smile and said off course "ik tu kitni lazy hai ".by saying this she went out of the house but soon she saw traffic so she is about to cross the road.
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Riya knelt by the roadside, carefully gathering flowers into a small, worn basket. They’d tumbled from a child’s hands just moments before, scattering across the dusty pavement, bright petals scattered like confetti. The boy, no more than six or seven, stood nearby, his face drawn with worry as he looked at the ruined bouquet. Riya’s gentle smile eased his worry, her fingers moving with delicate care as she picked up each blossom and handed it back to him, one by one.
“There you go,” she whispered softly, brushing dust from the last flower before placing it gently in the basket. “Now, don’t be sad, okay?”
The boy’s eyes lit up, and he nodded with a grin, clutching his precious bundle tightly and thanking her shyly before darting back to his spot at the edge of the sidewalk, ready to sell his flowers once more.
Riya’s gaze lingered on the boy for a moment, a soft warmth spreading in her chest. She straightened, brushing her hands together, blissfully unaware of the intense gaze following her every movement.
From the shadow of his sleek car parked across the street, he watched her. His blue eyes held an almost hypnotic fascination, riveted on the way her fingers moved, the way her eyes sparkled with kindness as she bent to help the child. There was something in her—something innocent, something pure—that reached out and grabbed him, pulling him from his world of cold ambition and sharp edges.
He didn’t know who she was or why he couldn’t look away, but he felt an undeniable pull, like a thread wound tightly around his heart, tugging with every small gesture she made. A strange heat settled within him, a fierce and possessive need that startled him.
She was everything he never knew he wanted, the warmth he’d been missing, a softness that awakened a powerful, almost dangerous need to protect her, to place her above everything and everyone.
As Riya started to turn, he found himself frozen, his heart pounding, his mind filled with an image of her smile, of her hands brushing over those flowers. In that fleeting moment, he knew—his life was about to change. She was no longer just a stranger on the street; she was the center of his world, and he’d do anything to keep her there. If the world tried to take her from him, he’d burn it all down. For her, he would fight, he would sacrifice, he would give everything.
Riya tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she walked away, blissfully unaware of the gaze that clung to her, binding her fate to his in ways she couldn’t yet imagine. Soon, she’d be his—and he would stop at nothing to keep her close.
Soon the traffic light turn green and all cars start moving
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