Beneath the Surface — Shadows of Home

The night air was heavy as Kiaan finally reached the threshold of his house, every step weighed down by exhaustion and pain that radiated from beneath his clothes. His body ached in places he barely dared acknowledge—bruises still raw, injuries hidden beneath fabric, remnants of a battle he couldn't escape even in his mind. The world outside was dark and quiet, but inside, tension brewed.

As Kiaan crossed the doorway, his 15-year-old stepbrother, Shaurya, was waiting. The boy's eyes gleamed with a mix of contempt and mischief as he caught sight of Kiaan's sluggish gait. Without hesitation, Shaurya's voice cut through the silence, dripping with venom. "Look who's back… the jobless freak returns home, huh? What, done crawling under rocks all day?"

Kiaan's jaw clenched. The anger bubbled inside him, but his body betrayed him—too drained to snap back, too bruised to fight. He swallowed the retort that burned on his tongue and kept silent, masking the storm behind weary eyes.

Shaurya noticed the silence and took it as weakness, stepping closer with a sneer. Then, his eyes locked on the faint outline beneath Kiaan's sleeve. The tattoo—a stark, unmistakable name inked on Kiaan's wrist—gleamed under the dim light: "reyaan Malhotra."

His sneer deepened. "What's this? Your lover?" Shaurya's voice was loud, mocking, filled with cruel amusement.

From the hallway, their stepmother Nandita emerged, her figure poised and voice sharp. She sided with Shaurya, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Looks like the spoiled prince found himself a new 'friend,'" she said, crossing her arms. "How fitting for someone who can't even hold a real job."

Kiaan's pulse quickened. The venom in their words cut deeper than any wound on his skin. He stared at them, feeling the weight of the unspoken — his hidden life, the dangerous secrets he bore, the battles fought in shadows none of them could ever understand.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Kiaan finally said, voice low but firm, his strength barely holding together. "Stay out of my life."

Shaurya scoffed again but backed off a step, sensing the quiet fury in Kiaan's tone. Nandita gave a thin-lipped smile, retreating to her own space but leaving the tension thick in the air.

Kiaan leaned against the wall, breath shallow, heart pounding—not from the physical pain, but the emotional battle waging at home. The house was supposed to be a refuge, but tonight it felt like another battlefield.

He touched the tattoo lightly, as if it were a mark of his truth — a reminder of the dark world waiting for him beyond the doors he'd tried to close.