Author's POV:

"Butterfly…” Veer was roaming around Siya like a lost puppet, his steps restless, his eyes following her every move.

“Don’t talk to me... you’re very bad!” Siya snapped, her voice sharp but her face betraying the faintest pout.

Yes… Siya was angry. And Veer, as always, was trying to calm her down.

The reason? Unknown.

“Butterfly, at least tell me what happened?”
Veer pleaded, reaching out to hold her hand. But Siya quickly stepped back.

“No! Find out yourself! Bade intelligent bante ho na tum… mera time aate hi  kahan chala jata hai tumhara ye intellectual dimaag?” she huffed, frustration dripping from her words.

(Always acting so intelligent, aren’t you? But when it’s my turn, where does that intellectual brain of yours disappear?)

Veer smiled faintly and answered smoothly,
“Because when it comes to you, Butterfly… I don’t think with my brain. I think with my heart.”

For a moment, Siya’s lips twitched into the beginning of a smile, but she quickly caught herself, forcing her stern mask back on. Crossing her arms across her chest, she turned her head away with a humph.

“Y-you… you don’t try to act smart!”

Silence followed. No playful comeback. No teasing reply.

Frowning, Siya turned her head back only to find the space beside her empty. Veer was gone.

Her heart skipped.
“He… he went? He really went?” she muttered, eyes widening.

Slumping onto the bed, she buried her face in her hands, her voice muffled and confused.

“You’re sooo bad, Veer… I hate… nooo, I don’t… ughhh!”

Then a voice came,

Tu jaan hai armaan hai
Mere pyaar ki pehchaan hai
Par thodi thodi tu nadaan hai

A soft, teasing voice echoed in the room. Siya froze, lifting her head slowly.

Yes… it was Veer. He stood there with two steaming cups of hot chocolate, singing with a sheepish smile.

As the melody filled the air, he walked over, placed the cups on the side table, and sat beside her. Without stopping the song, he handed her one cup gently.

Tu jo kahegi main waisa karunga
Teri har zid ko poora karunga
Chalo baba maaf karo hans bhi do
Maine dil saaf kiya kah bhi do

Siya didn’t say a word. She quietly accepted it and began sipping, deliberately avoiding his eyes.

Veer’s voice trailed off as he watched her. With a sigh, he slid his arm around her waist, guiding her onto his lap. She resisted for a second, but her body soon gave in, curling into his warmth.

Still, she refused to look at him. Silent. Pouting. Only sipping.

Veer began massaging her lower back with one hand, the other resting over her lower abdomen in soothing circles. Siya let out a soft, relieved moan and finally rested her head on his shoulder.

“Please, Butterfly… tell me what happened. Please,” Veer whispered, his voice breaking.

He took her hand and placed it against his chest. His heartbeat thudded violently, almost trembling under her touch.

Siya finally looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.
“What is today’s date?” she asked quietly.

“6th September,” Veer replied, still caressing her gently.

Her lips quivered as she whispered, “You… you still didn’t remember? I proposed to you on this date, Veer. And you forgot.”

A tear slipped down her cheek as she weakly hit his chest.

The sight shattered him. Veer quickly caught her hand, kissed her palm, then each of her fingers with reverence. Cupping her face, he whispered desperately,

“Shhh… you’ll hurt yourself. I’m sorry, Butterfly… I’m so bad. Call me anything, punish me, but please… not these tears.”

Siya broke and hugged him tightly, her sob muffled against his chest. Veer held her close, massaging her back again as he continued softly singing,

Roothna manana hai pyaar ki adaa… kaise jiyunga main tumse hoke juda…

Her body slowly relaxed, her breaths steadier. Veer kissed her hair and asked tenderly, “How are the cramps now? Better?”

Siya nodded faintly. “Yes…”

Yes. It was Siya’s second day of periods.

After finishing her hot chocolate, she was still curled in his arms, stubbornly mumbling,

“How could you forget? I proposed… we started dating on this day… and you forgot!”

Veer smiled guiltily.
“I’m sorry, Butterfly, but…” He stopped mid-sentence.

Siya lifted her head.
“But? Why did you stop? Say it.”

“Nothing,” he muttered.

Siya straightened up, suspicion flashing in her eyes.

“Did I mess up again? Maybe because of my mood swings? I know I do during this time… tell me, Veer.”

She was going stand up from his lap. His grip on her waist tighten, “No, Butterfly."

He sighted and cupping her cheeks continued, "Listen… you proposed on the 6th, yes. But it was 6th October, not September.”

Her eyes widened.

“Huh?! Then why didn’t you tell me earlier? I'm hacker.. I remember all codes and still forgets months ahhh..!!  I must’ve looked like a complete fool!”

“You? Looking like a fool?” Veer chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“Never. You only look like my beautiful Butterfly. And I didn’t tell you because…” he paused, brushing her hair back lovingly,

“…because I decided that for now on I’ll celebrate the 6th of every month with you.”

Her eyes glistened. Words failed her. She simply threw her arms around him and whispered,
“Sorry… I trouble you so much.”

Veer smiled, kissing the top of her head. “Trouble me more, Butterfly. I owe you that much… after how I once ignored you. so now, whatever you do, it only makes me fall deeper in love with you.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her lips curving into a soft smile. “Then get ready, Hukum… because this saahiba is never going to stop troubling you.”

And after some time, Siya finally drifted to sleep, curled safely in Veer’s arms, while his hand kept soothing her back.

.

.

.

Ryan was moving towards his car when someone collided into him. The impact was small for him but enough to send the girl tumbling to the ground.

He glanced down coldly, neither offering a hand nor a word.

The girl narrowed her eyes, annoyance flashing.

“Yeh dole sirf dikhane ke liye hai ya kaam bhi aate hain? Help me, idiot.”

(Are those biceps just for show, or do they actually work? Help me, idiot.)

Ryan’s eyes darkened with irritation. He bent slightly, his gaze piercing hers.

“Or yeh tumhari ankhein sirf mujh jaise handsome ladko ko dekhne ke liye bani hain ya kabhi dekh kar chalne ke liye bhi istemal karti ho, huh?”

(And are those eyes of yours made only for looking at handsome guys like me, or do you ever use them to actually watch where you’re going, huh?)

He straightened to walk away, but before he could, the girl grabbed his jacket collar and pulled herself up.

For a split second Ryan almost stumbled but quickly regained his composure, his jaw tightening.

She stood right in front of him now, barely reaching his chest.

Before he could scold her for her stunt, she smirked.

“Ohh… handsome and you? Huh. Six feet ki height aur baalon ko aise bun mein bandhne se tum khud ko handsome samajhte ho? Aparaichitudu lagte ho bas.”

(Just because you’re six feet tall and tie your hair up in a bun, you think you’re handsome? You only look like Aparichitudu.)

(Aparichitudu 👆🤧)

Ryan’s nostrils flared.

“Aye ladki, zyada bakwas mat karo. Paheli baat mujhe tumse jane ki zaroorat nahi hai, whether I'm handsome or not.. Aur rahi dusri baat height ki.. It’s six foot four inches. Tum kya jaano… paanch footiya.”

(Hey girl, don’t talk too much nonsense. First of all, I don’t need your opinion on whether I’m handsome or not. And as for the height… it’s six foot four inches. What would you know… you little five-footer.)

Her eyes widened. “You! How dare you call me paanch footiya?!”
She lunged again for his collar.

This time, Ryan caught her wrist mid-air. His grip was iron. His voice dropped, low and warning.

“Aye ladki. Don’t. You. Dare.” He shoved her hand away.

“I’m not even interested,” she snapped back.

“That much I can see,” Ryan said dryly, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket.

“Now move. And next time, don’t come in front of me again. Otherwise… you don’t know what I’m capable of.”

But instead of fear, her eyes lit with challenge. She stepped closer, tilting her chin up boldly.

“And what if I do? Haan? What if I cross your path again?”

Ryan’s fists curled tight, his jaw hardening, eyes flashing with dangerous fire.

“Aye ladki… bohot ho raha hai ab..”

But she cut him off, her voice sharp.

“Bas! Kab se ‘Aye ladki, aye ladki’ bol rahe ho. Naam hai mera—Anmol. Anmol Kaur. Bitha lo dimag mein. Kyunki main tumse milungi… baar baar milungi… jab tak tum mujhse maafi nahi maang lete.”

(Enough! You’ve been going on with this ‘hey girl, hey girl’ for so long. I have a name—Anmol. Anmol Kaur. Etch it in your mind. Because I’ll meet you… again and again… until you finally apologize to me.)

For the first time in years, Ryan froze. Disbelief flickered in his eyes. No girl had ever dared talk back to him like this. They either flirted shamelessly, or shrank under his cold glare.

But this one… this firebrand was staring him down as if she owned the ground he stood on.

Ryan’s lips twisted into a cold smirk. He stepped forward, invading her space until his shadow completely engulfed her.

Leaning down so close his breath grazed her ear, he whispered—his voice bone-chillingly calm.

“Let’s see, Miss Anmol Kaur… whether I bend down and say sorry… or whether you regret ever challenging me. Because I don’t bend. I break. And when I break someone… I break them so completely… they beg for death, just to escape their own existence.”

Anmol stood frozen, her breath hitching for a second. The sheer coldness in Ryan’s voice sent an involuntary chill crawling down her spine. His words weren’t a warning—they were a promise.

But she refused to let it show. Straightening her back, she lifted her chin higher, her face painted with calm indifference, as if his threat hadn’t touched her at all.

Ryan’s eyes lingered on her for a moment, dark and unreadable. Then, without another word, he brushed past her, his tall frame casting a shadow that swallowed her completely as he walked away.

Anmol’s fists clenched at her sides, her lips curving into the faintest smirk. “Break me, huh? Let’s see, Mr… let’s see who breaks first.”

.

.

.

Saaisha stormed into her room, her steps heavy with frustration. Behind her, Shaurya followed, looking less like the mighty Chief Minister and more like a helpless man chasing something precious.

“Suno toh meri baat, Lotus…” his voice was almost pleading.

(Listen to me, lotus..)

But Saaisha ignored him, her fingers moving briskly as she tied her hair into a bun.

“Lotus, listen… try to understand me. At least hear me out..”

She suddenly spun around, her eyes flashing. “Kya hai?” she snapped.

(What is it?)

Shaurya froze for a second, gulped, and then, in the most un-Shaurya way possible, cleared his throat and muttered, “Kuch nahi…”

(Nothing)

Her eyes widened in disbelief, staring at him like he had just said the dumbest thing in the world.

Realizing what he’d blurted, Shaurya quickly tried to correct himself, fumbling with his words.

“I mean… haan, I was saying… it’s not a good place to go, Lotus. You’ll… you’ll get scared.”

Her expression softened into narrowed eyes, her tone steady but filled with hurt.

“No. I won’t get scared. I want to come with you all. Aur maine pehli baar kuch manga hai aapse… aur aap seedhe mana kar rahe hain mujhe?” She turned her face away, fighting the sting of rejection.

(I asked you something for the first time and you're directly refusing me?)

Shaurya’s chest tightened. Taking a deep breath, he spoke, his voice gentler now.

“What do you think you’ll see there, hmm? Only screams, only pain… only blood. Nothing you should ever witness.”

For a moment, silence stretched. Then Saaisha spoke, her voice breaking softly, yet with the strength of someone who had endured too much.

“It’s nothing new for me…
screams—I’ve heard my own.
Pain—I’ve felt it tearing through me. Blood—I’ve seen it spilling from my own body.
So why would I get scared… seeing the same in the one who is behind my scars?”

Her words hit him like a blade to the heart. Shaurya stood there speechless, unable to argue, unable to shield her from the truth of her past.

After a long silence, he finally sighed in surrender.

“Okay. You will come with us… But if you feel uncomfortable for even a second, I’ll send you back. No arguments.”

Saaisha’s lips finally curved into a small, victorious smile. She nodded, the spark in her eyes glowing again.

“Sorry… for raising my voice at you,” Shaurya said quietly, guilt heavy in his tone.

Saaisha looked at him, then smirked playfully, her tone teasing.

“Itna seedha seedha sorry? Mr. Rathore, I baked a whole cake for you. You’re the CM, you should at least level up. Itni asaani se thodi milti hai maafi.”

Shaurya blinked at her in surprise, amusement tugging at his lips. One moment she was fire, the next she was teasing him like nothing had happened.

"Aisa jii?" he asked teasing her.

"Haan jii" she replied smiling.

He shook his head softly.

“Bataiye, kya kar sakta hoon aapke liye?”
(Tell me, what can I do for you?)

Saaisha tapped her chin dramatically, pretending to think, while her eyes twinkled with mischief. He just kept staring at her, as if every small expression of hers fascinated him.

Finally, she announced, “Yes… I know what I want from you.”

Shaurya leaned closer. “What?”

“Origami. You know origami, right? You made one for me in the hospital. Now you’ll teach me. That’s my demand.”

Saying this, she skipped over to the table, grabbed a notepad, and sat cross-legged on the couch, her eyes expectantly on him.

Shaurya raised a brow. “Now?”

She shot him a look, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
“Nahi, nahi… agar aap kahe toh shubh mahurat nikalwa lete hain, CM sahab.”

(No, no… if you say so, we’ll even get an auspicious date fixed, Mr. CM.)

Shaurya’s eyes widened slightly, and he muttered under his breath with a faint smile, “The wild kitten is back.”

Shaking his head, he sat down beside her on the couch.

“What are you even doing… ahh!” Saaisha groaned.

“Stoppp!” she whined.

“Now move… but slow.” She narrowed her eyes at him, as if warning him.

Shaurya frowned slightly,His voice was calm, measured. “I am moving slow, Lotus"

She shook her head, frustrated. “Mr. Rathore! I said slow, not faster!”

“I’m not going fast,” he replied, his tone steady, eyes fixed on the fold.

“Mr. Rathore, you don’t know how to do it or what?” Her lips curled into a pout, clearly blaming him.

“I know very well,” he said without looking up, brows furrowed as he folded with precision. “Have a little patience. See, I’m moving slowly.”

Shaurya exhaled slowly through his nose, his patience thinning. His expression was all seriousness, no amusement. “You’re not holding it properly. That’s why it’s folding wrong.”

Shaurya was teaching her how to make origami lotus but she was doing it wrong every time.

But to her, it was easier to blame him. “You’re a bad teacher,” she declared after the fifth failed attempt, tossing the paper onto the table.

“Enough. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Finally, Shaurya lifted his gaze from the paper, giving her a long, unreadable look  as if silently asking, Are you serious? Then he said flatly,
“Lotus, I’m a good teacher. You’re just… a difficult student.”

Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?!”

Still serious, he replied simply, “Origami needs patience. You don’t have it.”

“Hmph!” she folded her arms and turned away, glaring stubbornly.

“Seekhna bhi nahi hai mujhe. I’m good with my paintings and baking anyway. At least they don’t make me feel stupid.”

This time Shaurya said nothing. He just gathered the crumpled papers, stacked them neatly, and stood. His expression remained calm, almost unreadable.

“If you want to try again later, I’ll teach you. 

Without another word, he left the room with the same quiet dignity he always carried, while behind him Saaisha sat fuming, muttering under her breath, “Bad teacher… very bad teacher.”

.

.

Shaurya’s phone buzzed. One glance, one word from the other side was enough.

The scapegoat had taken the bait.

His eyes darkened, the softness he held moments ago replaced by a ruthless calm.

Kaala Darbar was ready.

And once again, its walls would echo with screams…

and drip crimson with the blood of those who thought they could escape.

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