Chapter: A Desperate Devotee

Arnav stood in the kitchen, frozen mid-step, staring at Pari's retreating figure. His face twisted like a man facing his final moments.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and muttered dramatically,

"Areee yaar, kaha phass gaya mai!"

The words came out like a groan from the depths of regret. He slapped the back of his own head.

"Aur mat yaad rakh dawa khana, idiot!" he scolded himself, pointing an accusing finger at his own reflection in the steel refrigerator door.

He let out a sigh so heavy it could've carried all his life's bad decisions in it. Then, looking upward like a tragic hero in a devotional film, he folded his hands.

"Bhagwan ji... Mahadev..." he began solemnly, his eyes squeezed shut,

"Mujhe pata hai mai bahot papi insaan hoon."

He nodded gravely to himself, as if confessing before a cosmic jury.

Then, his tone turned pleading, voice rising with pure desperation

"Lekin please aaj bacha lijiye.....pleaseee!"

He even tilted his head slightly, like he was trying to emotionally manipulate the divine.

"Bas aaj Mannu se bacha lijiye Mahadev," he whispered, eyes still shut tight. "Mai zindagi mein koi galat kaam nahi karunga."

A small pause. His brows furrowed. Then, under his breath,

"Galat kaam toh mai waise bhi nahi karta..."

He opened one eye skeptically toward the ceiling, as if waiting for divine confirmation, before hurriedly folding his hands tighter again.

"Mai Somvaar ka vrat rakhunga... Mahadev, aapko chara khilaunga... gaay ko doodh pilaunga...."

He stopped midway, confused. His brain glitched.

"Aree nahi nahi... mera matlab... gaay ko chara khilaunga aur aapko doodh chadhaunga, Mahadev."

He corrected himself quickly, shaking his head at his own stupidity.

"Bas aaj bacha lo."

Finishing the prayer with a melodramatic sigh, he rubbed his face, muttering curses under his breath about his "stupid" and "Idiot,duffer," and finally began walking toward Abhimanyu's room like a soldier marching toward doom.

Arnav reached Abhimanyu's door and stopped dead.

The hallway was dim, the only light spilling softly behind him, his supposed "last safe zone." He stared at the closed door in front of him like it was the gate to hell itself.

His hand hovered midair near the knob... then dropped.

Then hovered again... then dropped again.

He gulped.

"Nahi, Arnav... tu sirf darwaza khol raha hai, kisi jungle mein sher se ladne nahi jaa raha," he whispered to himself, trying to reason with his panic.

But his feet refused to move. His heart, however, was sprinting a marathon.

"Bas knock kar ke bol de, sorry mannu... baat khatam," he muttered. Then his eyes widened at his own imagination, picturing Abhimanyu's glare... that calm, deadly Rathore glare and he immediately shook his head violently.

"Nahi nahi, baat khatam nahi hogi... zindagi khatam ho jaayegi."

He exhaled, pressing his palm against his forehead.

And before he knew it... his brain betrayed him.

It drifted.

His vision blurred slightly as the sound of his heartbeat faded into the background...

Flashback

The grand corridors of Jaisingh Mansion echoed faintly with the click of Sudha's heels as she rushed down the marble staircase, her suitcase rolling behind her. The soft hum of rain clouds hung heavy outside the wide windows, casting a dull silver light across the hall.

"Arnav," she called, turning toward the little boy standing by the entrance, hair neatly combed, shirt buttoned all the way up, eyes bright and watchful.

He ran to her, clutching the edge of her dupatta. "Maa, aap sach mein ja rahi ho?"

Sudha knelt before him, cupping his cheeks. "Ek hafte ke liye, bas. Charity event hai, beta. Jaldi wapas aa jaungi. Tum bas ache se rehna, samjhe?"

She began the familiar list, every mother's ritual before leaving home. "Dhoop mein mat khelna zyada der. Dinner time par kha lena. Kuch chahiye hoga toh Maya se keh dena. Viren ko tang mat karna, unhe kaam hota hai. Homework time par kar lena, aur...."

Arnav rolled his eyes gently, smiling. "Maa..."

She chuckled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Theek hai, theek hai. Bas yaad rakhna, samajhdaar bacche ho tum. Mujhe phone kar lena agar kuch chahiye ho."

"Okay," Arnav said, giving her a little salute.

As she left, the sound of the main door closing seemed louder than usual. For a long moment, Arnav stood still, watching the car pull away through the rain-dusted window, until it disappeared down the curved driveway.

The mansion suddenly felt too quiet.

He turned and walked toward his father's study, where the faint golden light from the desk lamp spilled through the half-open door. Arnav hesitated for a second, then gently knocked.

"Come in," came Viren's deep voice from inside.

Arnav pushed the door open. His father sat behind a massive mahogany desk, glasses perched low on his nose, eyes fixed on a file. A sleek laptop glowed beside him, the screen reflecting faint blue light across his sharp features.

Without even glancing up, Viren said flatly, "Kya chahiye?"

Arnav clasped his hands nervously behind his back. "Papa... kal Rohan ki birthday party hai... mai jaa sakta hoon?"

Viren flipped another page, still not looking up. "Sudha se puch lo. vo jaisa bole, waisa karo."

Arnav blinked, shifting from one foot to the other. "Maa ghar pe nahi hai... aur unse kal baat ho payegi, flight mein hai vo."

That made Viren pause. He sighed, finally lifting his gaze. His face softened slightly with recollection. "Haan... yaad aaya."

He set the file down and said casually, "Theek hai, chale jaana."

A bright grin spread across Arnav's face. "Thank you!" he chirped, and bolted out of the study.

Moments later, he was on the phone with Abhimanyu, excitement bubbling in his voice, "Mannu! Papa ne permission de di party mein jaane ki! Tu bhi aayega na? Tere bina mai akele nahi jaunga."

On the other end, Mannu's cheerful voice replied, "Haan Arni, mai bhi chalunga. Kal pehle tere ghar aaunga, phir dono saath mein party mein chalenge."

Arnav's laughter rang through the quiet hallway. "Okay done!" he said, and hung up.

That evening, the sky burst open with rain. Thick droplets lashed against the French windows, turning the garden into a silver blur. The mansion staff had retreated indoors, but Arnav, nine years old and gleaming with freedom, ran barefoot into the downpour.

He twirled on the wet grass, arms stretched wide, face tilted up to the sky. Laughter echoed through the storm. For once, there was no mother's warning, no father's stern voice, just rain, cool and wild, wrapping around him like a friend.

By the time the clouds broke and thunder rolled away, his shirt clung to his skin and his teeth chattered. He slipped back inside, leaving tiny footprints across the marble floor, and sneezed loudly, giggling at his own mischief.

After changing into dry clothes, he padded into the kitchen. The chef, who had already prepared a proper dinner as instructed by Sudha, smiled gently and gestured toward the covered dishes. But Arnav shook his head stubbornly.

"Sir, madam ne kaha tha yeh dinner khilana hai," the chef tried to insist.

Arnav pouted. "Mujhe ice cream chahiye dinner mein."

The chef frowned. "Ice cream dinner mein kaun khata hai, baba?"

Arnav folded his arms. "Main!"

With a helpless sigh, the chef informed Viren.

"Sir, Arnav baba dinner nahi kha rahe, Keh rahe hai sirf ice cream khayega."

Viren didn't even look up from his screen. "Usse jo khana hai khane do. Baar baar mujhe disturb mat karo."

And so, the nine-year-old prince of Jaisingh Mansion dined alone, a bowl of melting strawberry ice cream in hand, his laughter echoing faintly in the giant, empty dining hall.

Next Day

No one came to wake him. The mansion was still and silent, the air heavy with the faint scent of rain-soaked soil. When Arnav's eyes fluttered open, sunlight was already streaming weakly through the curtains. His body ached all over.

Every movement sent a wave of pain through his limbs. His head pounded, his skin burned. He pushed himself up slowly, trembling.

"Papa..." he whispered, his voice hoarse.

He stumbled out of bed, dragging his feet across the cold marble, and asked the maid weakly, "Papa kahan hai?"

"Study mein, baba," she replied gently.

Gathering all his strength, Arnav made his way there. His small fingers fumbled with the handle as he entered, forgetting to knock.

Viren looked up sharply from his laptop. "Tameez nahi hai.....bina knock kiye aate hai?"

Arnav didn't answer. He stood there quietly, shivering. His cheeks were flushed, eyes glassy with fever.

Viren frowned. "Kya chahiye?" he asked in a clipped tone.

Arnav swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. "Meri tabiyat kharab hai... bukhaar hai."

Viren's eyes flicked toward him briefly before turning back to the screen. "Acha... Maya se keh do ki doctor bula le. Aur jaake rest karo."

Arnav nodded faintly, but his small steps faltered. His eyes brimmed with tears as he took a hesitant step forward, just wanting to feel safe, to lean into someone.

When Viren saw him coming closer, he snapped, irritation flashing across his face. "Wahi raho! Mujhe bhi cold ho jaayega tumhara....Pata nhi viral hai ki kya hai...."

The words hit harder than any slap.

Arnav froze. His throat tightened. Viren didn't even look up again, simply muttering, "Meri bahot important meeting hai. Toh disturb mat karo. Kuch chahiye toh Maya se kehna, she would arrange everything."

For a moment, silence filled the study. Only the faint clicking of keys and the slow thud of rain against the window broke it.

Arnav blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears. But they came anyway....hot, uncontrollable, spilling down his cheeks as he turned and walked out quietly.

His tiny frame wobbled as he climbed the stairs. The walls loomed tall and cold around him. He didn't tell Maya. He didn't want a doctor. He didn't want medicine. He just wanted his father to look at him.

Inside his room, the fever climbed higher. His breath came in shallow gasps. He crawled under the duvet, curling into a small trembling ball. But no matter how tightly he wrapped himself, the shivering wouldn't stop.

His eyes stung. His chest ached. And in the silence of that enormous room, the little boy finally let the sobs escape, muffled against the pillow.

A cold hand brushed against his burning forehead. Arnav's lashes fluttered, his breath coming in shallow tremors. Slowly, he opened his eyes and through the haze of fever, he saw a familiar face hovering above him.

Big, worried eyes.

"Mannu..." Arnav's cracked voice escaped in a faint whisper.

Abhimanyu was kneeling beside the bed, his sharply dressed for the party, nice red tshirt amd neatly combed hair looking like a perfect gentlemen. His face was pale with worry as he pressed his palm against Arnav's forehead again, feeling the unbearable heat.

Arnav blinked weakly, a tiny, tired smile tugging at his lips. "Mannu... party mein chala jaa... meri tabiyat nahi thik hai. Sorry... mujhe batana chahiye tha..."

Abhimanyu's throat tightened. "Pagal hai kya, haan?" he scolded softly, voice trembling. "Tu tapp raha hai bukhaar mein... itna tez bukhaar kaise ho gaya, Arni?"

His words carried more fear than anger, a trembling concern only a best friend could feel.

But Arnav, barely conscious, quickly removed Mannu's hand from his forehead, whispering hoarsely, "Mannu... tu dur reh... tujhe bhi mera cold ho jaayega..."

The words slipped out instinctively, the same words his father had hurled at him earlier.

Abhimanyu froze for a second, understanding dawning in his eyes. He could hear the quiver in Arnav's voice, see the tears clinging to his lashes, the helpless shiver running through his small frame.

Without saying a word, he leaned closer, gently, carefully and pressed a soft kiss to Arnav's burning forehead.

For a moment, everything went still. The cold room, the fever, the loneliness, all faded under that tiny gesture.

That single touch broke something open inside Arnav. His chest loosened, a sob caught in his throat. His trembling hand clutched weakly at Mannu's sleeve, as if anchoring himself to that one thread of comfort in the storm that had swallowed him whole.

For everyone else, it might have been just a small act of care.
But for Arnav...a boy who had spent the day yearning for a father's hand, a word, a hug....it meant everything.

In that one kiss, he found the warmth he'd been denied.

In that moment, Abhimanyu became the anchor his world had been missing.

Abhimanyu's gaze fell on the tears slipping silently down Arnav's flushed cheeks. In that instant, he understood, not just the fever, not just the pain but the hollow loneliness eating him from within.

He knew how Viren was. He knew what kind of silence filled this mansion.

Without a word, he reached out and gently wiped the tears away, his touch light and trembling. "Arni," he whispered softly, voice breaking with affection, "mai hoon na... tu ro kyun raha hai... mai yahi hoon."

Those simple words, "mai yahi hoon" felt like a balm on open wounds. Something in Arnav's chest loosened, and before he knew it, his small body gave in. He shifted closer, eyes glassy with relief, and buried his face against Abhimanyu's torso. His arms wrapped around him tightly, as though afraid that if he let go, this comfort would vanish too.

Abhimanyu exhaled shakily, one hand moving to cradle the back of Arnav's head, the other reaching for the duvet. He tucked it carefully around the trembling boy, cocooning him in warmth.

Then, with one arm still holding Arnav close, he reached for the bedside phone and called the house staff, his voice calm but firm. "Doctor ko bulaiye. Jaldi."

Within minutes, hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway. The doctor arrived, carrying his bag, murmuring instructions but to Arnav, the world was a blur. He couldn't tell who entered, who spoke, who moved around the room.

He only knew one thing....Mannu never left.

He didn't know which medicines were given to him, or how many times the towel on his forehead was changed. But every few minutes, through the haze of fever, he felt it, the cool touch of a hand on his face, brushing away the sweat, a low whisper near his ear, checking if he was breathing fine, a steady presence that refused to sleep.

And as the hours bled into night, he realized something else.
Someone was still there.

Even when the fever rose again, even when his body trembled uncontrollably, a pair of hands held his...small, warm, and firm. A thumb tracing circles over his knuckles, a gentle voice humming softly, a breath hovering close, anchoring him to the world.

He didn't see Abhimanyu wake every few minutes to check his temperature. He didn't see the worry clouding those young eyes. But he felt everything, the soft massage on his cold hands, the quiet pressure on his feet to ease the pain, the feather-light kisses pressed on his fingers, on his forehead.

Things no one had ever done for him before.

And somewhere between the burning fever and those trembling breaths, Arnav found something he never knew he'd been missing.

He found warmth.
He found safety.
He found home.

Morning crept slowly into the room. Pale sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft golden patterns across the floor. The air smelled faintly of rain and antiseptic and for the first time in hours, the mansion felt alive again.

Arnav stirred. His lashes fluttered open, eyes still heavy from sleep. The fever had broken, his body no longer burned, though he still felt weak, weightless, as if floating.

For a few moments, he simply blinked, adjusting to the light. Then, as his gaze shifted to the side, he saw him.

Abhimanyu.

Curled up awkwardly beside him on the bed, head resting near the edge of the mattress, his fingers still loosely wrapped around Arnav's hand. His hair was a mess, his tshirt creased, dark circles etched faintly beneath his eyes.

Even in sleep, his hold hadn't loosened. It was as though, somewhere in the night, Abhimanyu had promised silently....I won't let go.

Arnav stared at him for a long moment, chest swelling with something wordless and heavy. A lump formed in his throat. He remembered flashes...the fever, the darkness, the trembling, the hand that never left his, the voice that whispered every time he whimpered.

He remembered feeling seen.

Gently, Arnav lifted his small hand and brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen across Abhimanyu's forehead. The gesture was soft, hesitant, grateful.

"Mannu..." he whispered faintly, though he didn't want to wake him.

Outside, the rain had stopped. The world felt fresh, washed clean. Inside, for the first time, so did Arnav.

He didn't know how to thank him, words felt too small, too weak. So, he just lay there quietly, fingers still entwined with his best friend's, a faint smile curving his lips.

Because in that silent morning, surrounded by warmth and the scent of friendship, Arnav finally understood,

Family wasn't just blood.
It was the one who stayed.
The one who didn't flinch.
The one who saw you, even when the world looked away.

And from that day, in the vast emptiness of Jaisingh Mansion, Arnav's heart had found its first home, in the quiet, unwavering presence of Abhimanyu.

Evening light streamed through the wide windows of Jaisingh Mansion, painting the room in a soft amber glow. The faint scent of disinfectant still lingered, a reminder of last night's panic.

Sudha stepped quietly into the house, sari slightly crumpled from the hurried flight, eyes anxious. She had returned a day earlier than planned, the call from home still ringing in her ears: "Arnav baba ko bukhaar hai, madam. Bahut tez hai."

She had ended her charity event mid-way, heart pounding, mind replaying every possible fear. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared her for the sight that greeted her when she finally pushed open Arnav's bedroom door.

Her eyes widened.

Abhimanyu sat cross-legged on the bed, a small notebook in his lap, pencil scratching across the page. His brows were furrowed, not in mischief, but in concentration. In front of him, Arnav stood in the corner, tiny arms raised high above his head, lower lip quivering, eyes shiny from unshed tears.

He was sniffling softly, his face caught between guilt and childish pout.

"Mannu," he whined in a shaky voice, "Maine bola na sorry... tune maara bhi mujhe... ab punish mat kar na, pleaseeeee..."

His tone was sugar-sweet, laced with the kind of cuteness that usually got him out of trouble. But not this time.

Abhimanyu didn't even look up. "Yeh sab barish mai do ghante bheegne aur dinner mai ice cream khaane se pehle sochna chahiye tha," he said with sternness, his pencil still moving. "Ab wahi khada reh chup chaap. Ek aur shabd nikala muh se toh time badha dunga. Abhi sirf 20 minute bache hai....khada reh wahi."

"Mannu..." Arnav's voice turned to a soft whine, but he obeyed....because even in rebellion, Arni trusted his Mannu.

Sudha couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. The entire scene, the little one pouting in the corner, the elder one being strict.....was so endearing, so theirs.

She finally cleared her throat.

The room froze.

Both boys turned instantly. Arnav's eyes went wide, tears forgotten, and in the next second, he rushed toward her. "Maa!" he cried, burying his face into her stomach.

Sudha bent down, wrapping him in her arms, her hand immediately going to his forehead. "Bukhaar thik hai, baccha ab?"

Arnav sniffled, nodding quickly. "Thik hai."

Her heart loosened in relief. But when her gaze shifted up, she noticed Abhimanyu standing there stiffly, fingers fidgeting, head slightly bowed. His expression was tense, the nervousness of a child expecting scolding.

He had punished Arnav...in Viren's house, to Sudha's son....and now feared the consequences.

But Sudha understood instantly. She saw the worry hiding behind his silence, the conflict between his care and his hesitation, Did I overstep?

She smiled softly, brushing Arnav's hair. "Abhi ne punish kiya hai na? Toh yaha kya kar raha hai? Ja, jaake khada ho waha."

Abhimanyu's head snapped up, eyes widening in disbelief. "Kya...?" he mouthed silently, confused.

Arnav, too, blinked up at her, completely stunned. He had expected his mother to rescue him, not side with his best friend.

When he didn't move, Sudha raised an eyebrow. "Jao, Arnav. Abhi ki punishment complete karo. Tabhi hilna waha se. Nahi toh mai Abhi se bolke time badhwa dungi."

That did it. Arnav's eyes widened further, and he hurried back to his corner, standing still like a little soldier, hands back in the air.

Sudha bit back a laugh, turning to Abhimanyu, who was now staring at her with open-mouthed shock. She reached forward and gave a gentle tap to his head.

"Pagal baccha," she murmured with affection.

Then, without warning, she pulled him into a hug. For a moment, he froze and then slowly, hesitantly, wrapped his arms around her. The tightness in his chest eased.

When they sat down on the bed together, Abhimanyu finally asked softly, voice trembling, "Aap... puchengi nahi maine usse punish kyun kiya?"

Sudha shook her head slowly, eyes full of warmth. "Nahi, beta."

Her voice was soft, steady, knowing.

She understood everything, the turmoil in his heart, the worry that made him scold, the hesitation of a boy who wasn't her son but loved hers like a brother. She saw the fear in his eyes....that maybe, just maybe, he had crossed a line.

But to her, he hadn't. He had stepped into a space of love and that was something she could only be grateful for.

She smiled gently, resting her hand on his shoulder. "Mujhe sab pata hai, Abhi......Tune jo bhi kiya, pyaar se kiya."

Abhimanyu's eyes dropped, a faint relief washing over his face. He didn't know what to say, so he just nodded, a small, shy smile curling at the corner of his lips.

And on the other side of the room, little Arnav stood quietly, arms still raised, but a smile had returned to his face too. Because in that one room, surrounded by warmth, laughter, and gentle scolding, he felt safe again.

His mother was home.
His Mannu was here.
And for Arnav Jaisingh....that was enough.

Sudha's eyes softened as she looked at the small boy sitting beside her. Abhimanyu's posture was stiff, his fingers fidgeting in his lap, eyes lowered, guilt written all over his face. She gently slipped an arm around his shoulders, her touch light, comforting.

"Jab pyaar itna karta hai ki raat bhar bina khaye, bina piye, bina soye uske saath raha..." she said softly, her voice warm and steady, "toh daantne ka bhi hakk hai tera, Abhi."

Abhimanyu's eyes snapped up in surprise. Sudha smiled faintly and continued, "House help ne sab bataya mujhe... kaise tune iska khayal rakha... kitne pyaar se, pure time uske saath tha. Sab bataya usne."

Abhimanyu's lips parted, but he quickly lowered his gaze again. "Lekin mujhe punish nahi karna chahiye tha..." he murmured, guilt heavy in his tone.

Sudha gave a light, playful tap on his head. "Jaha pyaar hota hai na, wahi log punish karte hain," she said with a tender smile. "Samjha? Teri care hai woh."

She took his small hand in hers and looked him in the eye. "Promise kar baccha... tu iska dhyaan hamesha rakhega?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Abhimanyu nodded earnestly, a faint smile breaking on his lips. "Ji Maa... main hamesha iska dhyaan rakhunga. Chhota hai mujhse. Bhai hai mera."

Sudha's heart melted. She smiled, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Mera baccha..." she whispered, cupping his cheek. "Toh Abhi... bade bhai-behen ko aise hi karna hota hai....thoda sa pyaar, thodi si daant... jaise tune aaj ki."

She paused, watching his face soften, and added gently, "Ab itna pyaar karta hai tu apne Arni se... toh daatne ka bhi hakk hai tera, baccha. Aaj ke baad mujhe ye hesitation dobara na dikhe, samjha?"

Her tone was firm yet filled with love. "Main ise punish kar nahi paati... aur iske papa..." she trailed off, sighing deeply. A shadow crossed her eyes...the kind only mothers know.

Then she looked back at Abhimanyu and smiled faintly. "Ab main itna bigaadti hoon, toh koi toh hona chahiye na jo usko thoda strictness se... balance karne ke liye."

Abhi chuckled, the heaviness lifting from his chest. "Theek hai Maa," he grinned softly. "Main kar dunga balance. Iss gadhe ko thok pith ke seedha kar dunga."

Sudha burst into a laugh, shaking her head. But before she could say anything, a little whine interrupted,

"Maaaaa, dekho naaa!" Arnav complained from the corner, arms still raised in distress. "Apke saamne maarne ki baat kar raha hai!.....Aapko pata hai, isne mujhe maara bhi tha! Aur phir punish bhi kiya!"

Sudha tried to keep a straight face but her lips twitched. "Karega woh tujhe punish," she said calmly, "Dada hai tera. Bada bhai."

Arnav blinked, lips parting in surprise. "Aur yaad rakhna Arni," Sudha added in a mock-stern tone, "Dobara agar tune complain ki na... ki usne tujhe punish kiya ya maara, toh main usko double karwa dungi. Samjha?"

Arnav's eyes went wide. "Kyaaaa!" he gasped, lower lip trembling in adorable protest.

Sudha chuckled and continued, "Jab itna pyaar karta hai tujhse, toh punish bhi karega. Aur tu kuch nahi bolega. Dada hai tera. Hamesha tere bhale ke liye karega jo karega."

Arnav blinked, and suddenly, a smile tugged his lips. He didn't know why, but warmth spread through his chest, the kind he hadn't felt in a long time. The kind he should've felt from his father, but somehow, it always came from Mannu.

He remembered how Abhimanyu shielded him from bullies at school, how he always checked his tiffin, carried his bag, wiped his tears. Slowly, he turned to look at his Mannu, guilt replaced by affection.

"Sorry," he mumbled softly, eyes glimmering with sincerity.

Sudha smiled at the sight. "Dada manta hai na tu ise?" she asked gently.

"Haan!" Arnav nodded quickly, his voice filled with confidence.

"Bas," Sudha said lovingly. "Toh ye pyaar bhi karega aur daatega bhi."

"Thik hai," Arnav huffed, then added with a pout, "Lekin bahottt saara pyaar aur thodi si daant."

Sudha laughed softly, and even Abhimanyu couldn't help but chuckle.

A moment later, Abhimanyu called out gently, "Aaja, idhar aa." He made Arnav sit in front of him and began massaging his small shoulders to ease the stiffness. Arnav relaxed instantly, eyes half-lidded as his Mannu's hands worked away the ache.

Sudha watched them with quiet pride. Her heart swelled, seeing her two boys like this. Arnav leaned against Abhimanyu's chest, a soft hum escaping his lips, while Abhi's hands moved tenderly over his back and arms.

For Arnav, the care a father should have given....always came from Mannu. He hated the moments when his Mannu scolded or punished him, because in those moments, Mannu became his "Dada." But soon after, when the scolding turned into soft pampering, it melted every bit of resistance left in his heart.

Abhimanyu was "Mannu" when Arnav saw a friend and "Dada" when he saw a father, a brother, a protector.

Sudha watched them, her eyes glistening. In that moment, she knew one truth deep in her heart, even if she wasn't around, Abhimanyu would always be there for Arnav.
He was his anchor, his shield, his home.

Recalling the flashback, a small, involuntary smile tugged at Arnav's lips. The memory had warmth and a little sting, mixed like sweet and spice.

But then reality hit him like a slap.

The smile vanished.

He exhaled, face drooping as he muttered under his breath,

"Yaar ye Mannu bachpan se hi khadoos hai..."

His expression twisted in disgust at the memory.

"Uss din kitna maara tha... phir punish bhi kiya tha."

He rubbed the back of his head and shoulder like the old smack still hurt.

Then his eyes drifted back to the door.

The same door that now looked like the entrance to his doom.

He gulped.

Looked up.

And just like before, he folded his hands dramatically toward the ceiling.

"Mahadev... please bacha lena," he pleaded, eyes wide and pitiful.

"Aap uska mood shi kar do jaldi se, pleaaaseeee..."

He clasped his hands tighter, swaying slightly like a desperate devotee.

"Dekhiye Mahadev, mai pakka aapko dudh chadhaunga... haan aur Somvaar ka vrat bhi rakhunga... gaay ko chara bhi khilaunga..."

Then he looked back at the door nervously, sighed, and muttered one last line under his breath

"Bas aaj bacha lo Mahadev... warna agli baar aapka bhakt heaven express se aa raha hoga."

He took a deep breath, wiped his sweaty palms on his T-shirt, and whispered,

"Chalo Arnav... You can do it......Ghayal parinda hai tu, dikhlade zinda hai tu, baaki hai tujhme hausala"

And then he fisted his hands making a little salute and said,"Kar har maidaan fateh...".

And with trembling courage, he finally raised his hand again... ready (or maybe not so ready) to face the Rathore inside.

___________________________________________

Thanks for reading

How was the chapter

What do you think about the flashback

Comment something, anything about Arnav and Abhimanyu bond

And also How was Arnav desperate devotion...

Also tell me how do you want Arnav's confrontation with Abhimanyu

Funny

Emotional

Or both

Suggest some scenes that you want to see when Arnav enters the room and tries to pacify his Mannu.

Next update would be on friday, but if the target is completed before that i would upload sooner.