Red Dress

Ahana lay curled in Aksh's arms, feeling a warmth she hadn't felt in years. His heartbeat was steady beneath her ear, grounding her in a way nothing else could.

For the first time in forever, she felt safe.

Aksh's fingers lazily traced patterns on her back, his touch light, soothing. His warmth wrapped around her like a shield, and she found herself sinking into it, letting the exhaustion of the past days melt away.

Silence lingered between them, comfortable, soft.

But something weighed on her heart.

She hesitated before speaking, her voice small. "Aksh… can we—" she paused, taking a breath, "can we go to India?"

Aksh's fingers stilled.

She didn't move, just kept her face hidden in his chest, afraid of his answer. "I haven't seen my mom in so long… She's the only one back home who loves me. I never even got to call her after everything."

Her voice wavered on the last part, and Aksh felt something tighten in his chest.

His Ahana.

So soft. So fragile.

She never asked for anything. Not for herself.

He exhaled, his grip on her tightening just a little. "You miss her?"

Ahana nodded against him. "A lot."

For a moment, he was silent, his mind calculating risks, weighing the dangers. But then he looked down at her—at those eyes that had only ever held love for him, despite everything—and he knew.

If she wanted this, he would make it happen.

His fingers tilted her chin up, making her look at him. Those hazel eyes, the ones she could never resist, held a rare softness.

"We'll go," he promised, his voice steady. "I'll take you home."

Ahana's lips parted, surprised. "Really?"

Aksh smirked. "When have I ever lied to you?"

Her face broke into a radiant smile, her joy so pure that Aksh felt his own heart skip a beat.

She threw her arms around his neck, burying herself deeper into his warmth. "Thank you," she whispered, voice muffled against his skin.

Aksh closed his eyes, pressing his lips against her hair.

For her, he'd do anything.

Even if it meant walking into unknown dangers.

Even if it meant risking everything.

Because she was his everything.

Aksh watched Ahana as she nestled into his arms, her fingers lightly tracing invisible patterns on his shirt. She was calmer now, but there was something on his mind—something that had been lingering ever since he saw that picture in her sketchbook.

That red dress.

The intricate embroidery, the way she had poured her soul into every delicate fold—it wasn't just any drawing. It meant something.

"Ahana," he murmured, tilting her face up slightly. "That red dress you drew… why did you draw it?"

Ahana blinked, surprised by the question. Her fingers stilled against his chest. "That?" she whispered, as if recalling something distant.

She sat up a little, pulling away just enough to meet his gaze. A deep breath left her lips before she finally spoke.

"It's… something that always appears in my nightmares."

Aksh's expression didn't change, but inside, something shifted.

Ahana glanced away, almost embarrassed. "I don't know why, but ever since I was little, I kept seeing this dress. A deep red, embroidered with golden thread, shimmering under the light. It felt… familiar, but I never knew why."

Her fingers curled around his sleeve. "It's not like I couldn't draw it again. But that sketch—" she paused, her voice turning softer, "—it was the first thing I ever created that truly felt like mine."

Aksh listened, his mind racing.

"That picture… it was why I chose fashion designing," she continued, her voice carrying a bittersweet edge. "Because I wanted to create something beautiful. But more than that, I always wanted answers about that dress."

She laughed lightly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I know it sounds crazy, right? Being connected to something from a dream."

Aksh didn't respond right away. His mind was already working, piecing things together.

A red dress.

A nightmare.

The same nightmare.

His grip on her waist tightened ever so slightly, a storm brewing beneath his otherwise calm expression.

It wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be.

Something was buried in their past—something that neither of them fully remembered.

And now, he needed to know the truth.

But for now, he only cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently across her skin.

"Maybe," he murmured, voice low, "that dress is more than just a dream."

Ahana frowned slightly, confused by his words, but before she could ask, Aksh pulled her back into his arms, holding her close.

His mind was already made up.

They were going to India.

And he would find the truth.

Even if it meant uncovering something neither of them was ready for.