Payal slumbered deeply in Asra's embrace, her body curled trustingly against his like a delicate vine entwined with ancient oak. The chamber had fallen into hushed reverie after her aborted confession—the dropped paper forgotten on the floor amid tear-streaked hugs and whispered reassurances. Exhaustion from last afternoon manipulations, William's deceptions, and the novel's relentless twists had claimed her, pulling her into restorative slumber where dreams wove fragile tapestries of belonging amid chaos.Asra lay awake through the whole night, his arm a protective cradle beneath her head, black eyes tracing the gentle rise and fall of her chest. His precognitive senses hummed quietly, visions of her leaving tempered by this tangible reality—her warmth seeping into his villainous heart, challenging the plot Payal alone foresaw. Dawn crept in gradually, golden sunlight spilling through parted velvet curtains like liquid amber, painting the room in warm hues. The first rays kissed Payal's face, illuminating her features with ethereal beauty: long lashes fanned against flushed cheeks, full lips parted in peaceful repose, stray auburn hairs escaping her braid to frame her like a halo.Asra's breath caught—the most beautiful view he'd ever beheld. His wife, sleeping so peacefully while hugging him close, her fingers loosely curled into his shirt as if anchoring to him against unseen storms. In the morning sunlight, her skin glowed with an inner luminescence, freckles dusting her nose like scattered stars, the subtle curve of her neck inviting absent traces of his lips. His cool blue hair fanned messily around the pillow, mingling with hers in intimate disarray, a visual testament to their night's shared vulnerability. For a moment, the world narrowed to this: her serenity piercing his guarded soul, the novel's doom distant, schemes irrelevant.Sensing the growing heat of sunlight caressing her face, Payal stirred, eyelids fluttering like butterfly wings. The first thing she saw upon opening her brown eyes were his black orbs gazing down at her tenderly—endless depths of adoration, soft with unspoken vows, reflecting her image like a cherished portrait. No anger, no deception, just pure, unguarded love that made her heart stutter."Good morning, my love," Asra whispered, voice husky from disuse, thumb brushing her cheek with feather-light reverence. Payal's cheeks warmed under his gaze, a shy smile blooming as she nestled closer, the weight of yesterday's confessions lifting in this sunlit cocoon. The chamber felt sacred—artifacts on shelves dormant, incense embers glowing faintly, the dropped paper still unnoticed on the rug like a dormant secret.Outside, the mansion awakened: servants' footsteps pattering in halls, Morning calculated breakfast preparations, William and Julian's tense alliance plotting her exile. But here, time suspended. Payal traced Asra's jaw, marveling at the man who'd confessed eternal love amid villainy. "You stayed up watching me?" she teased softly, voice thick with sleep."Every second," he admitted, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "The most beautiful sunrise I've witnessed."Their noses brushed, breaths mingling as sunlight strengthened, gilding their entwined forms. Payal's transmigrated fears receded momentarily—plot twists, Yuri's past, brothers' ruses—all paled against this authenticity. Yet the paper loomed, her truth untold; Asra's visions warned of loss. She hugged him tighter, hoarding the beauty before duty called.Birdsong filtered through windows, jasmine breeze stirring curtains. Servants knocked discreetly—breakfast awaited, scheming shadow lengthening. Asra sighed reluctantly. "We should prepare. But know this: whatever comes, my heart is yours."Payal nodded, stealing one more lingering kiss, their foreheads touching in silent pact. Rising together, hands linked, they will face future—strengthened, yet shadowed by unspoken revelations.
Asra gazed down at Payal's serene face, still basking in the golden morning light that transformed her into something ethereal. Her breathing had evened out again, lulled back into slumber by his steady presence and the chamber's comforting warmth. He didn't want to disturb her—not yet. "You sleep," he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress. "I'll wake you up when I'm done with my shower, okay? Sleep." His fingers lingered in her hair, stroking the silky strands with tender reverence before he pressed a final kiss to her forehead. Reluctantly, he disentangled himself from her embrace, rising from the bed with quiet grace, his cool blue hair tousled from the night.The bathroom door clicked shut behind him, steam soon billowing as hot water cascaded over his toned frame. Asra showered quickly but thoroughly, letting the heat ease the tension knotted in his shoulders from visions and revelations. When he emerged, towel slung low around his hips, droplets trailed from his wet blue hair, tracing rivulets down his broad chest and sculpted arms. He looked every inch the embodiment of raw sex appeal—skin glistening, muscles subtly flexing with each movement, the faint scent of sandalwood soap clinging to him like an invitation. Water pooled on the polished floorboards as he reached for the hairdryer, the low hum filling the chamber.Glancing toward the bed, Asra frowned—Payal was gone. The sheets were rumpled where she'd lain, her warmth already faded. "Payal left before I came out," he muttered to himself, a mix of amusement and mild exasperation coloring his tone. "I told her to wait." He switched on the hairdryer, the warm air blasting through his blue locks, tousling them further as he worked methodically, eyes half-closed in concentration. Steam lingered in the air, the room hazy and intimate; he didn't notice the subtle shift—a faint rustle of fabric, a whisper of movement like a breeze carrying jasmine.Then, soft and elegant hands slid around his waist from behind, hugging him tightly against a warm, familiar body. Asra rolled his eyes playfully, a smile tugging at his lips even as he kept drying his hair. "Payal," he said, voice low and affectionate, the hairdryer's hum underscoring his words. "Why did you leave before I came out? I told you to wait."She pressed her cheek against his damp back, her embrace lingering with a mix of playfulness and need. "I went to take a quick shower ," she admitted, her voice muffled against his skin. "I don't like to make you wait, you know? Fair's fair." Her fingers splayed across his abdomen, tracing idle patterns over the towel's edge, the contact sending a shiver through him despite the warm air.Asra chuckled softly, switching off the hairdryer and setting it aside, but he didn't turn yet—savoring the unexpected intimacy. "Let me help you dry your hair," Payal offered suddenly, her hands slipping away as she reached for the dryer herself. She guided him toward the vanity mirror, positioning him on a cushioned stool while she stood behind, her reflection meeting his in the glass. The hum resumed, warm air tousling his blue strands as she worked with gentle focus—fingers combing through the wet locks, parting them carefully, her touch both practical and adoring.But as she focused on Asra's hair, a memory intruded unbidden: William's hands in her own locks the night before, his steady fingers brushing through tangles during her vulnerable confession on his lap. The recollection flashed—his greenish-blue eyes soft with unexpected tenderness, the quiet intimacy of that moment clashing with his later deceptions in the chamber. Payal's hands faltered briefly, her combing slowing as distraction pulled her away. Why does it linger? she wondered, cheeks warming with confusion. William's conflicted anxiety, his "act" bleed into reality? She shook it off, redirecting her attention to Asra's hair, now half-dry and gleaming like sapphire silk under her care.Asra watched her in the mirror, sensing the subtle shift in her focus—the brief hesitation, the faraway look in her brown eyes. "Something on your mind?" he asked gently, reaching back to squeeze her wrist, droplets still beading on his shoulders. The chamber felt charged, sunlight strengthening through windows, casting their reflections in a golden frame. Outside, the mansion stirred—servants preparing midday meals, , Julian and William likely grappling with the fallout of their exposed ruse.Payal smiled faintly, resuming her work with renewed vigor, blowing warm air through his hair until it fell soft and wavy. "Just... everything," she admitted vaguely, not ready to voice the dropped paper's secret or William's memory. "You're looking dangerously handsome now," she teased instead, ruffling the dried locks playfully. Asra laughed, pulling her around to face him, drawing her onto his lap and hugged her, he kissed on her cheek with the steam—sweet, lingering, a defiant bubble against the encroaching doom. Don't you need to wear something to cover this body of your she looked in mirror The moment stretched, intimate and unhurried, but awareness prickled: breakfast is awaited, manipulations loomed, the brothers' fragile alliance teetered. Payal leaned into him, hoarding the normalcy, her hands tangled in his hair as sunlight gilded their closeness.