Mistake

Ahana clenched her fists at her sides, willing herself to stay composed. She wouldn't let them see how much that moment had affected her.

The car was waiting outside, its engine humming softly in the quiet night. Aksh grabbed his bag without a word and stepped past her. Meher followed, her gaze flicking to Ahana with a knowing smirk before she turned away.

Ahana inhaled sharply, forcing herself to move.

As they settled into the car, she found herself in the back seat, with Aksh beside her. Meher took the front, speaking in low tones to the driver. Ahana stared out the window, her reflection blending with the city lights.

The air inside the car was thick with unspoken words.

After a while, Aksh shifted beside her. "You're quiet," he murmured.

Ahana kept her eyes on the passing streets. "Just tired."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either.

Aksh exhaled, and for a moment, she thought he'd let it go. But then, his hand brushed against hers—light, barely there, as if testing the waters. Ahana stiffened, but she didn't pull away.

"Ahana," he said, lower this time. "Look at me."

She hesitated before turning, meeting his gaze in the dim light. There was something unreadable in his expression—something searching.

Before she could say anything, Meher spoke up. "We should get to the safe house by morning. But there's one stop we need to make first."

Ahana tore her gaze from Aksh and frowned. "A stop?"

Meher turned slightly, her eyes meeting Ahana's in the rearview mirror. "Yes. There's someone we need to see. Someone who might have answers about why things have escalated."

Ahana's stomach twisted. This wasn't just about Meher and Aksh's history anymore.

It was about something far bigger.

And somehow, she was right in the middle of it.

---

They arrived at a discreet location just outside the city—an abandoned warehouse, the kind that looked like it had stories of its own. The air smelled of rust and rain, the ground uneven beneath Ahana's feet as she stepped out of the car.

Aksh walked ahead, his posture tense. Meher followed, speaking in hushed tones with him. Ahana trailed behind, feeling more like an observer than a participant.

When they entered the warehouse, a lone figure was waiting inside.

A man.

His back was turned, but the moment they stepped in, he turned to face them. The dim overhead light revealed sharp features, cold eyes, and a faint scar trailing down his jaw.

Ahana had never seen him before.

But from the way Aksh's entire body tensed, she knew this man was important.

"Aksh," the man greeted, his tone calm. "It's been a while."

Aksh didn't respond immediately. His fingers flexed at his sides before he spoke. "I don't have time for pleasantries, Kian. Just tell me what you know."

Kian's gaze flickered toward Ahana then, studying her with unsettling interest.

"And this must be her." His lips curved slightly. "The girl they're watching."

Ahana's breath hitched.

Meher stepped forward, blocking part of Kian's view. "Stay on topic."

Kian hummed in amusement but didn't push further. "Fine." He turned his attention back to Aksh. "You were right to be cautious. There's a bounty on your head—and hers."

The world tilted slightly.

Ahana felt her heartbeat slam against her ribs. "What?"

Aksh's jaw tightened. "Who put it out?"

Kian smirked. "That's the interesting part. It's not just one name. It's a message."

Ahana swallowed hard. "What message?"

Kian's gaze settled on her.

"Find the girl, and you'll find the truth."

The room fell silent.

Ahana felt Aksh's presence beside her—strong, steady, but also… tense.

She had known she was caught up in something dangerous. But this?

This changed everything.

Ahana's breath came uneven as Kian's words echoed in her mind.

"Find the girl, and you'll find the truth."

She could feel Aksh standing close, his presence a protective shield around her. His fingers curled into fists, his entire body tense as he stared at Kian.

"We're leaving," Aksh said, his voice firm, allowing no argument.

Meher gave a curt nod and stepped back, but Ahana could feel Kian's eyes still on her, as if he knew something she didn't.

Aksh didn't wait. He grabbed Ahana's wrist and pulled her away from the dimly lit warehouse, his grip tight but not painful. The cold night air hit her as they stepped outside, but she barely noticed.

Her mind was spinning.

A bounty. A message. A truth she didn't even know she was connected to.

They reached the car, but instead of getting in immediately, Aksh pulled her aside, around the corner of the building where the shadows swallowed them.

"Ahana," his voice was low, rough.

She looked up at him, her pulse racing for an entirely different reason now. The dim streetlight barely reached them, but she could still make out his sharp jaw, the tension in his expression, the way his eyes burned into hers.

"I need you to listen to me," he said, stepping closer. His hands came up, one gently cupping her jaw while the other rested against the wall beside her. "Whatever happens next, you do not leave my side. Do you understand?"

Ahana swallowed, her throat dry. "Aksh—"

"No." His voice dropped lower, his thumb brushing the corner of her lips, his touch featherlight yet possessive. "This isn't just about me anymore. They're after you. And I won't let them touch you."

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

The air between them felt charged, thick with something unspoken.

"Why?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why do you care so much?"

His fingers tightened against her skin. For a long moment, he just stared at her, his chest rising and falling heavily, as if he were battling something within himself.

"I don't know how to not care," he admitted, his voice raw.

Ahana's breath caught.

Ahana's chest felt tight as she stared at Aksh, his words ringing in her ears.

"You do not leave my side. Do you understand?"

She bit her lip, trying to steady her thoughts. "And what if I leave?" she asked quietly.

Aksh froze. His fingers, which had been hovering near her, clenched into a fist. His gaze darkened, as if the very idea unsettled him.

Ahana swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if… all of this is over? The danger, the enemies, everything. What if I walk away?"

She didn't even know why she was asking. Maybe she wanted to see if she mattered. If she—not just her connection to this mess—meant something to him.

The silence between them stretched, thick and suffocating.

Then Aksh moved.

Not roughly, not forcefully—but with a quiet, unshakable intensity.

He took a step forward, closing the space between them. One of his hands came up, his fingers brushing against her wrist before trailing up to her jaw. His touch was warm, steady.

"You won't," he said, his voice a low murmur. "You can't."

Ahana's breath hitched.

He was looking at her like she was his. Like the very thought of her leaving was unbearable.

And yet, she whispered, "Why?"

His thumb traced her cheek, slow, deliberate. "Because I won't let you."

Ahana's heartbeat pounded in her ears. "You can't control everything, Aksh."

His lips quirked, but there was no amusement in his eyes. "No. But I can stop you from making a mistake."

Her pulse raced. "And staying with you… isn't a mistake?"

For the first time that night, something flickered in his gaze—something vulnerable, raw.

Ahana's breath hitched at his words.

"This is the only choice you'll have. Each and every path you walk, I'll make sure it ends on me, Little Flower."

Her heart pounded violently against her ribs, an unfamiliar mix of frustration and longing coiling in her chest.

"That's not fair," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Aksh let out a quiet chuckle, but there was no amusement in his eyes—only certainty, a dangerous kind of possession. "Fair or not, it's the truth."

Ahana clenched her fingers at her sides. "You can't decide my fate."

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving hers. "I already have."

The weight of his words settled between them, thick and inescapable. She wanted to argue, to tell him he couldn't just claim her like that. But deep down, a part of her knew—she had already been his for a long time.

She took a shaky step back, but Aksh followed. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if cornering her was the only natural thing to do.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice breaking slightly. "Why can't you just let me go?"

Aksh exhaled sharply, as if the question itself was ridiculous. Then, with startling gentleness, he reached up, his fingers tracing the curve of her jaw.

"Because I don't want to." His voice was lower now, rougher. "And because you don't want to leave either."

Ahana hated how much her body reacted to his words—how his closeness made her pulse race, how the warmth of his touch made her knees weak.

She turned her head slightly, trying to look anywhere but at him. "You're impossible," she muttered.

A slow smirk touched his lips. "And yet you're still here."

Ahana's breath stuttered.

She should push him away. She should fight this.

But when he leaned in—when his forehead rested against hers, his breath mingling with hers—she realized she wasn't going to.

Because a part of her wanted to be caught.

Wanted to be his.

The moment stretched, the space between them disappearing until all that remained was him.

Then, finally—inevitably—he kissed her.