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The room was shrouded in darkness, the air thick and suffocating. A small ten-year-old boy sat on his bed, knees pulled tightly to his chest. His face bore no trace of innocence, only a vacant, hollow expression masking the tempest raging inside him. Every heartbeat, every breath felt like a punishment—he cursed the very moment he had been thrust into this world.
Deep, shadowed circles marred his eyes, darker than those of most adults, as if sleep had forsaken him for countless nights. His eyes were bloodshot, swollen, and puffy, the skin around them raw and irritated from too many tears.
It was an unbearable weight for a mere ten-year-old, yet he pressed on. Wiping his tears with the back of his small, trembling hand, he forced himself to rise. His feet dragged heavily across the floor as he reached the study table, yanked out his books, and began reading in agonizing silence, each word a faint attempt to escape the storm within.
But suddenly, the door slammed open with a deafening thud, reverberating through the house like a clap of thunder. A menacing shadow filled the doorway before stepping inside, its presence suffocating the room.
The kid’s eyes widened in fear. His lips quivered as he stammered, "I-I’m sorry… I will try my best next time… please…"
But the figure’s eyes were void of warmth, void of mercy—only a cold, ruthless fury. Without a single word, a hand shot out, striking the boy’s cheeks again and again. Each sharp slap tore through the heavy silence, a cruel rhythm that echoed in his ears and seared into his memory.
The kid screamed, "Please! I-I’m sorry, please!"
But the figure paid no heed. When the cruel onslaught ended, they turned sharply and slammed the door with a bone-jarring thud. The small boy was left quivering on the cold floor, his body wracked with silent sobs, alone in the oppressive stillness. The echo of their footsteps faded down the corridor, leaving not even a glance behind, as if he had never existed at all.
"Stoppp ittt!!!" A painful scream escaped from Aastik's lips as he woke up from his sleep with a shivering body.
Yes that helpless kid was none other than AASTIK himself who is now the beast to everyone.
Aastik
The scream ripped out of my throat before I could stop them. My face was slick with sweat, my hair damp and clinging to my forehead. The t-shirt I wore stuck to my skin like a second layer, heavy and uncomfortable. My breathing was slow, but each breath felt like dragging air through fire.
In a rush, I pulled the t-shirt over my head and tossed it somewhere into the shadows. My hands went straight to the glass of water on the nightstand, as I gulped it down in one go.
"Why… why the hell is this dream not leaving me?" I muttered under my breath. "I thought it had stopped… from the day I started sleeping with Ahana, it didn’t come."
I clutched my hair in a tight grip, closing my eyes. The same feeling, the same fear, the same pain. After all these years, the ache hadn’t faded.
I turned to the other side of the bed, It was empty. I stood up and checked for her, the lights of the washroom are on.
With a long sigh I returned to the room and moved towards the drawer. After a few minutes of searching, I finally found a cigarette—the one thing that might dull the ache, ease the feelings.
Taking the cigarette I stepped out to the balcony.
The night was dark and cold. The air was hitting my bare skin and making the leftover sweat on my body turn cold. I pulled a cigarette from the pack, flicked the lighter to light the cigarette. I placed it between my lips and inhaled deeply... the first drag hit my chest with a sharp, satisfying burn. My lungs filled with the bitter smoke, as I held it in for a second before letting it out slowly.
"Aap itni raat ko yaha kya kr Rhee ho?" Her sweet voice came from behind, filled with concern.
(What are you doing here so late at night?)
I didn’t look at her. Couldn’t. My eyes stayed glued to the dark sky, tracing stars I couldn’t reach.
"Sweetheart, go inside and sleep hmm? I'll be joining after a few minutes," I said, my gaze still fixed at the sky.
She didn’t reply, nor did she move. Her piercing gaze weighed on my back, and slowly her footsteps drew closer. Step by step, she approached, until finally, she stood beside me.
"Mujhe neend nhi aa rhii hai," she said, leaning on the balcony railing. The cool night air brushed her hair against her face, and after a pause she asked, "aap smoke krte ho?" Her voice held a hint of shock.
(I can't sleep) (Do you smoke?)
"Sometimes," I replied, taking one more puff, the smoke curling lazily into the night. "When I really need it."
"Achha," she murmured, still not looking away. Her curiosity hung between us, heavy like the lingering smoke.
"Waise… when do you decide you really need it?" she asked, stepping a little closer. The faint scent of her perfume mingled with the night air, drawing me in quietly.
"When my head’s a mess… when there’s too much noise inside," I said, exhaling slowly, "The burn helps. Makes me feel… steady for a bit."
"Ooo...."
I gave a small hum and turned back to the sky, bringing the cigarette to my lips. But before I could take another drag, her fingers brushed against mine, wrapping around my hand.
I turned my head toward her in confusion only to find her smiling at me. Not the sweet kind of smile. This one had a hint of challenge in it, like she was daring me to stop her.
And before I could even react, she pulled my hand to her lips, and then she did the most unexpected thing—she took the cigarette near her lips and took a long puff of it.
My lips parted and my eyes widened as I watched her. I wasn’t even able to stop it. Everything happened so fast like in a blink of an eye.
Then the coughing started.
With every harsh cough, smoke burst from her mouth in ragged clouds. Tears welled and spilled down her cheeks. She struggled to catch her breath, chest heaving, coughing unrelenting.
"What the fuck!" I threw the cigarette aside and pulled her toward the sofa, making her sit down.
"Why! Why the fuck did you do that, sweetheart? What were you trying to prove?" My voice shook—not with anger, but panic. Raw, frantic worry clawed at me, and it was my fault for letting her do it. My fault for not stopping her.
"Why shouldn't… Why shouldn't I do this?" she asked between coughs taking deep breaths.
"What were you thinking? That I’d just let you hurt yourself like that? If your mind feels heavy, just talk to me. I’m here… I’ll be your Listener, and I’ll do everything I can to support you," she shouted, her voice trembling with worry.
"Sweetheart, you could’ve just told me. I would have listened to you. Why did you have to pull something so dangerous, baby?" I murmured, patting her back gently, feeling the tremor beneath her clothes.
"You weren’t in your right mind at that moment. I know you a little more than you think… I know you," she whispered, gripping my hands tightly. "I was leaning against the balcony, but you still exhaled the smoke. That… that proved you were lost in your thoughts, forgetting how it could affect me too."
No words came. Only shame and anger burned in my chest. I looked down and then with a voice barely audible I whispered, "I’m sorry."
Instead of answering, she pulled me into a warm hug, holding me close as if to shield me from myself. "You don’t have to be sorry, Aastik ji. I know you didn’t do it intentionally. But promise me—you won’t smoke next time. Promise me you’ll talk to me when you feel distressed. And I promise… I’ll always be there for you. To be your Listener. To give you hugs whenever you need."
I hugged her tighter, as if letting go would make me lose the warmth entirely. My face buried itself in her chest, seeking comfort. Instead of me patting her back, she gently tried to calm me, helping me regain control.
"I promise, sweetheart… I won’t," I murmured.
"Good boy," she said, letting out a soft chuckle.
We stayed like that for a few moments. Her hug was so warm, so comforting, it felt like a shield against all the pain I had been carrying. The tension in my shoulders slowly melted, and the memories that had been clawing at my chest seemed to lose their hold. My mind filled with nothing but the quiet scent of her vanilla perfume.
"Are you feeling better now?" Her voice came softly, almost like a warm blanket wrapping around me.
"Yes, thank you," I murmured against her skin, my breath brushing lightly over her neck.
"Why are you saying thank you, isn't it normal for a wife to support her husband, to stand beside him?" She said, her fingers slipping through my hair, ruffling them in that familiar, gentle way.
We slowly broke the hug, but not completely, our hands still lingered for a moment before parting. My eyes fell on her brown ones and again… that skip of a heartbeat. Again… that same familiar pull. And I know exactly what this is. What this feeling is.
"Ishq hone laga hai mujhe tumse, sweetheart," I whispered in my mind, my lips curling into the faintest smile only I knew the reason for.
(I'm starting to fall in love with you, sweetheart.)
If this isn’t love… then what could it possibly be? Why does my soul ache for her presence as though she’s the very air I breathe? Why does it feel as if my heart only dares to beat because she exists? Why does she seem like the sole reason my world still holds meaning? Why does it feel like a blade twisting through my chest when her tears fall? Why does the thought of her leaving feel like the end of my very existence? And why… why does it seem like she’s the only one who knows how to piece together the shattered fragments of me, to make me feel human again?
"Aap aise kya dekh rahe hai?" she asked, waving her hand slowly before my face, a faint smile playing on her lips.
(What are you looking at like that?)
"Apko dekh raha hu," I replied, catching her hand gently and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, letting my lips linger for a heartbeat longer.
(I'm looking at you)
"That’s not something new," she said, her voice tender as she cupped my face with the same hand.
"It’s new… your face is new," I replied locking my gaze on hers.
"Why? You look at it all the time," she asked, a tiny frown creasing her forehead.
"Because every time I look at you, you look even more beautiful… every time I see you, I feel like I still haven’t seen enough. And every single glance feels like the first time I ever laid eyes on you— beautiful, pure, breathtaking, and unique" I murmured, leaning closer until our breaths mingled.
Then I placed a gentle,lingering kiss on her forehead, sealing the words in her heart.
"Aaj kya ho gaya hai aapko?" she asked with a little giggles...
(What happened to you today?)
'Apse pyaar', I said silently in my heart.
"Kuch nahi… bas jo dil mein aaya, woh bol diya," I replied, standing from my place and gently helping her up.
(Nothing… I just said whatever came to my heart.)
"Now let’s go and sleep, it’s already late," I said, extending my hand toward her.
"Yeah, let’s go," she said softly, placing her delicate hand over mine.
We both walked into the room, her soft footsteps matching mine, and she moved to her side of the bed.
I lay down on my side, but a thought sparked in my mind, curling my lips into a teasing smirk. Without warning, I slipped my arms around her waist and pulled her toward me with a swift jerk.
"You startled me!" she exclaimed.
"Sorry," I murmured, burying my face into the crook of her neck inhaling her warm, familiar scent and pressing slow, tender kisses against her skin.
"Kya kar rahe hai… chhodiye na… sone dijiye," she whispered, her voice soft but restless as she lightly struggled in my hold.
(What are you doing… leave me na… let me sleep.)
"So jaiye… hum aapko rok thodi rahe hai," I replied with a low chuckle, tightening my embrace just enough to keep her close.
(Go to sleep… it’s not like I’m stopping you.)
"Aise aap harkate karenge to kaise so paungi?" she said, turning her face toward me in a swift motion.
(If you keep doing things like this, how will I be able to sleep?)
But she froze—realizing the distance between us was barely a breath, not even an inch. Her wide eyes locked with mine, and for a moment, neither of us moved.
I lifted my hand and placed it gently on her cheek, my palm covering half of her face. "What happened, sweetheart? You were saying something?"
"W-wo… it’s… we should sleep," she murmured, her words tumbling over each other as if even her tongue was shy.
"We’re sleeping only," I teased, letting my fingers trace slow, lazy patterns across her skin—down her cheek, along her jawline, drinking in every detail of her expression.
"Aap pucca nahi hatenge na?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.
(You're sure you won't move away?)
"Nahi hatunga, pucca," I replied her back. That was the plan—until she surprised me by slipping her arm around my torso and pulling herself closer, hiding her face in my chest.
"Good night," she murmured softly. Then, almost under her breath, "Mr. Devil kahike."
"I heard that sweetheart,"
"It’s better if you heard that… you should know that," she replied, her tone holding that mischievous edge.
"Achha… you bad girl—" I said, and without warning, my fingers found her sides, tickling her mercilessly.
"Hahaha… hahaha… sorry… sorry please… haha…" she gasped between her laughter, squirming in my hold while I grinned at her helplessness.
"Ha toh kya keh rahi thi… it’s better if I heard, hai na? Now? How are you feeling?" I said, continuing my merciless torture on her.
Her face turned crimson, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as laughter spilled uncontrollably from her lips. "Please… haha… chhodiye na… I’m sorry… hahha," she managed between breathless laughs and little gasps.
Her body wriggled in my hold, but I only grinned, enjoying every second of her helplessness. Then, slowly, I eased my fingers, letting my touch soften until the laughter faded into quiet breaths.
She lay there against me, chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to catch her breath after laughing so long. A few stray strands of her hair clung to her damp forehead, and without thinking, I brushed them back gently, still smiling at her flushed face.
"Aap aaj itna pareshan kyun kar rahi hai mujhe?" she asked with her soft and innocent voice.
(Why are you troubling me so much today?)
"Kyunki mera mann kar raha hai," I said, leaning forward and gently rubbing my nose against hers.
(Because I feel like it.)
"Apko main punishment du iss baat ka?" she asked—actually asked if she could punish me. Oh God… how innocent, how pure can someone be?
(Then can I punish you for this?)
I smiled, and like bowing in surrender, I said, "Yes, of course… tum jo punishment dena chahti ho, de sakti ho."
(Yes, of course… you can give me whatever punishment you want.)
It was as if she had been waiting for those words to leave my lips—because the very next moment, she climbed on top of me.
I instinctively held her by the hips, steadying her so she wouldn’t lose balance.
With a small, almost teasing smile, she leaned closer to my face. "Aap sure hai na?"
(You sure, right?)
"Hmm, I’m sure… actually… more than that, I’m excited to see what kind of punishment this is," I replied honestly, my eyes never leaving hers.
She smiled mischievously, and just when I thought she was going to kiss me, she turned her face slightly, pressing her lips against my neck.
And then… she started sucking that spot. "Sweetheart, is this the punishment?" I asked, trying to control my urge to pull her back and kiss her mercilessly. Her lips worked against my skin, sucking, nibbling, and biting in between.
A low, involuntary groan escaped me when she bit hard. "Mmm…" My hand slid to her head, my fingers tangling in her hair as I murmured, "Shaant, meri sherni… I’m not going anywhere."
(Calm down, my lioness...)
Her warm breath fanned over my neck as her so-called punishment continued, each movement sending sparks through me, until she finally seemed satisfied.
After what felt like an eternity, she pulled back, her face flushed a deep crimson.
"Now it’s better," she said with a soft, possessive smile. "Like you always mark me yours… today I marked you as mine."
"Abhi aur kuch nahi… thodi hi der mein subah ho jayegi… mujhe sone dijiye," she murmured, snuggling closer and wrapping her arms around me again.
(Now no more teasing… it’ll be morning soon… let me sleep.)
I smiled at her childish instincts, the way she could so effortlessly disarm me. Pulling her into my arms, I closed my eyes and let sleep claim me—a peaceful, undisturbed sleep… forgetting everything I was supposed to, and everything I wanted to.
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