Why the hell he is awake? Did he want the answer right now? will he get angry? Can I lie? I think I can lie but he always find out if I am telling the truth or not.
"I-I was downstairs,for the water" I lied completely Lied.
He looked at me doubtfully. Maybe he know that I lied.
"The water is on the table" he said while pointing at the water bottle on the table.
I suddenly started felling uneasy. I can't think any excuses. My head suddenly ache. The pain was unbearable. I can't tolerate it. I felt like I am gonna puke. I ran towards the bathroom. From the corner of my eye I can see he was running behind me. He was saying my name again and again. But I was completely ignoring him.
I went Straight to the sink. I vomited in the sink. And after that the taste in my mouth was bitter. I don't know why did that happened. Why was I fealing uneasy.
"Are you listening to me?" He said with anger but his face covered with worry.
"Yeah! Yeah! I am alright" I answered him.
It was obvious that he was worried for me. But why? I was just feeling uneasy that's it.
"Are you sure?" he again asked me.
I forced a smile, though my lips trembled. " I'm fine," I whispered.
His eyes landed on me, sharp yet tender, as if he could see that I was lying. cause I was still feeling uneasy but Much better but the headache even worse.
He stepped closer," you don't have to pretend" he said softly, his voice carrying both worry and something else -----maybe love?
My heart raced. Why was he so concerned? Why did his gaze feel like it was pulling me in, unraveling the lie I had wrapped around myself? I wanted to look away, but instead I found myself drowning in the depth of his eyes.
The ache in my head pulsed again, but this time it wasn't just pain — it was a strange awareness, as if something unseen was pressing against me, demanding to be noticed. I shivered. Is there something I couldn't explain?
He brushed a strand of hair from my face " whatevers happening," he murmured," I'm not gonna let you face it alone".
I wanted to answer him, to reassure him again, but the words caught in my throat. The ache in my head pulsed harder, and for a moment the room seemed to tilt. I gripped the sink, closing my eyes, and in the darkness behind my eyelids I saw something — a flicker, a shadow, like someone whispering my name from far away. Her long hair,pink dress,yet a little blur. was telling me something I could not understand. sudden that shadow came infront of me.
I gasped and opened my eyes. He was still there, his hand hovering near mine, hesitant but desperate to help. " you're scaring me" he said quietly, his voice trembling. " please...tell me what's going on".
I shook my head, unable to explain the strange vision. " I don't know..." I whispered. " its like something is....Pulling at me".
His brow furrowed, then it looks like he understood something,but instead of stepping back, he moved closer. His hand finally touched mine. The contact sent a rush through me. don't know but this touch felt good. it was like it was comfortable.
" I think I know what it is" he said firmly, his eyes locked on mine.
OK then tell me too. I also want to know.
"I think I know what it is," he said firmly, his voice low and steady.
I looked at him, my breath uneven. "Then tell me… I need to know."
His hand tightened around mine, his gaze unwavering. "It's not just pain. It's something binding you… something that doesn't want to let go." Something whattt?
Sudden The shadow of the girl in the pink dress flickered again at the edge of my vision, her lips moving in silent words I couldn't understand. I shivered, pressing closer to him without meaning to.
He lifted my chin gently, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Listen to me," he said, his tone commanding but tender. "Whatever this is, it won't take you from me. Do you hear me? You're mine to protect."
My heart stuttered at his words. The ache in my head pulsed, but his presence steadied me, like a shield against the unseen force clawing at me. And why is he caring and protecting me? Is he worried?
"I don't know if I can fight it," I whispered, my voice breaking. I could not think anything,I went to see sania and this fuck happened.
"You don't have to," he answered immediately, his thumb brushing against my cheek. "I'll fight it for you. Even if I have to tear it out of the dark with my own hands."
The shadow surged again, closer, clearer — her eyes locking with mine for a heartbeat before vanishing. I gasped, clutching his shirt, trembling.
He pulled me against his chest, strong arms wrapping around me.
"Stay with me," he murmured, his breath warm against my hair. "Don't let it drag you away. Stay here… with me."
"What to do now?" I whispered while he looked at me.
"we need to do this now," he said so casualy like its nothing. Is he insane? He is messing with me at this serious moment. at where I can't even breath properly.
"stop messing with me please!" I shouted at him.
" but its the only way..." he said calmly. " and I am not kidding with you". He was serious this time. I can't help it now.
His expression didn't change — calm, steady, unshaken. "I'm not joking," he said, his tone deep and unwavering. "This thing pulling at you… it wants to break you apart. The only way to fight it is for us to be bound together. Completely."
I stared at him, my chest rising and falling too fast. "Bound… together?"
He nodded once, his hand tightening around mine. "Not just words. Not just promises. Something stronger. Something that ties you to me so it can't take you away."
The shadow flickered again at the edge of my vision, the girl in the pink dress whispering soundless words. My knees weakened, and I leaned into him without meaning to. His arms wrapped around me, firm and protective, and for a moment the ache in my head dulled.
"I don't understand," I whispered, my voice breaking.
"You don't have to," he murmured against my hair. "Just trust me. Let me hold you. Let me keep you here." First time he was asking for permission.
His warmth pressed against me, steady and grounding, while the shadow loomed just beyond. And in that moment, I realized — whatever bound me to the darkness was losing its grip, because his strength was pulling me back into the light.
His arms held me close, steady and unyielding, but his eyes searched mine with a question unspoken. There was no demand in his touch, no force in his presence — only a quiet strength, waiting for me to decide.
The shadow flickered again, the girl in the pink dress whispering words I couldn't understand. My body trembled, torn between fear and the warmth of his embrace.
"I don't want to lose you," he said softly, his forehead resting against mine. "But I won't take anything from you that you don't give freely. This has to be your choice." Like really,what are you doing? Why are you asking permission?you already took that.
My breath caught. The ache in my head dulled under the weight of his words, replaced by something deeper — a pull not from the shadow, but from him.
"I want this," I whispered, my voice fragile but certain. "Not because of the pain, not because of the fear… but because it's you."
His eyes darkened with emotion, his hand tightening around mine. "Then we face this together," he murmured.
The shadow lingered at the edges of my vision, but as his lips brushed mine — slow, deliberate, asking permission even in silence — the darkness seemed to falter. For the first time, I felt like I wasn't being dragged away. I was choosing to stay. Choosing him.
He held me closer, his arms strong yet gentle, as if he knew I could break at any moment. "Stay with me," he murmured again, his voice low, almost pleading.
I lifted my gaze to his, and for a heartbeat the world stilled. The ache in my head, the pull of the shadow, the fear clawing at me — all of it faded beneath the weight of his eyes.
His hand cupped my face, thumb brushing against my cheek with a tenderness that made my chest ache. He leaned in slowly, giving me time, giving me choice. When his lips finally met mine, it wasn't rushed or desperate — it was deliberate, grounding, a promise sealed in warmth.
The shadow flickered once more, but this time she seemed farther away, blurred beyond reach. Her presence weakened as I pressed closer to him, as if our closeness itself was pushing her back into the dark.
His forehead rested against mine, his breath mingling with mine.
And in that moment, wrapped in his strength and my own fragile courage, I believed him. The darkness could wait. Tonight, I was his, and he was mine.
The shadow dissolved into nothing, fading like smoke in the wind. The room was quiet now, heavy with only the sound of our breathing.
His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. I felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my chest, strong and grounding, and for the first time the ache in my head eased completely.
No words passed between us. His touch spoke louder than anything — the way his hand traced the line of my jaw, the way his fingers lingered at my waist, holding me as if I might disappear.
I tilted my face upward, and his lips found mine again, deeper this time, no hesitation, no question. It was slow at first, tender, but grew urgent as if both of us had been waiting too long.
The world outside ceased to exist. The shadow was gone, the fear forgotten. There was only the warmth of his body against mine, the press of his mouth, the way his breath mingled with mine.
Every movement was deliberate, chosen, mutual — a silent promise that neither of us would let go. My hands clung to him, pulling him closer, and he responded with a strength that made me feel safe, wanted, whole.
In that moment, there was no darkness, no pain. Only us — bound together, completely.
The silence between us grew heavy, charged with something unspoken. I shifted closer, my fingers tracing the edge of his collar, slow and deliberate. His breath caught, but he didn't move, waiting for me.
I tilted my head, brushing my lips along his jaw, lingering just enough to feel the shiver that ran through him. My hand slid down his chest, feeling the strength beneath, and I smiled faintly at the way his heartbeat quickened.
He tried to speak, but I silenced him with a kiss — deeper, hungrier, pulling him into me until words no longer mattered. My body pressed against his, guiding him backward until he surrendered to the pull, letting me lead.
The night wrapped around us, thick and endless, as I explored every inch of him with touch and closeness. Sometimes gentle, sometimes demanding, each movement was mine to choose, and he followed willingly, answering with equal fire.
We tangled in the sheets, breathless and restless, giving ourselves to the rhythm of desire. His hands gripped me tightly, but I was the one setting the pace, drawing him deeper into me, refusing to let go.
Hours blurred into heat and whispers, until exhaustion softened us both. I lay against him, skin warm, heart racing, knowing I had claimed him as much as he had claimed me.
The shadow was gone. The night belonged only to us.
He drew me closer, his movements steady and sure, guiding me with a strength that left no room for doubt. His touch was firm yet careful, every gesture deliberate, as if he knew exactly how to steady the storm inside me. I let him lead, surrendering to the rhythm he set, and the night unfolded around us in waves of closeness and fire.
There were no words, only the press of his body against mine, the way his breath mingled with mine, the way his hands claimed me yet held me as though I was something precious.
When dawn crept through the curtains, I stirred in his arms. He was still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, his warmth anchoring me. I lay there quietly, staring at the pale light spilling across the room.
My mind drifted back to the shadow — the girl in the pink dress, the whisper I couldn't understand. Why had she appeared? Why had she vanished the moment I gave myself to him?
I touched my lips, remembering the way he had kissed me, the way he had held me as if nothing could take me away. A shiver ran through me, not from fear but from the memory of how willingly I had surrendered to him.
Why did I do that? Was it only desire, or something deeper — something that bound me to him beyond choice?
The shadow was gone, but the questions remained. And as I lay in his arms, I realized the night had changed me. I wasn't sure how, or why, but I knew nothing would ever be the same again.