*Yuvraj's POV*
The moment I stepped inside her house, I felt it. Not discomfort, not hostility, but something far more unsettling — an exaggerated politeness that didn’t feel natural. It was the kind of hospitality people reserve for someone they want to impress, someone whose opinion carries more weight than their own ease. Every movement felt measured, every smile carefully placed, as if my presence had shifted the balance of the room before I’d even spoken a word.
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•✿•✿• ᴀɢᴀʀ ʏᴇʜ ᴜsᴋᴏ ʙʜɪ ʜᴜᴀ ʜᴀɪ ᴘʜɪʀ ʙʜɪ ᴍᴜᴊʜᴋᴏ ᴢʏᴀᴅᴀ ʜᴜᴀ ɪsʜǫ ᴡᴀʟᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ... •✿•✿•
Meera turned her face away from him with a small, stubborn pout, arms folding across her chest as if that alone could hold her ground. It would have looked almost adorable if her eyes weren’t bright with frustration. She hated how he stood there, composed as ever, watching her like she was a storm he had already calculated the path of. The argument had thinned into silence, but the tension still pulsed between them, warm and restless. “I hate you,” she muttered, not loudly, but with enough weight to mean something. Advay didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t chase the words or try to soften them. He simply studied her profile, the way her lower lip pushed out slightly when she was upset, the way she refused to look at him as if eye contact would betray her. Then he stepped closer, not enough to crowd her, just enough that his presence felt intentional. “I wish I could hate you too,” he said quietly. She blinked, her pout faltering as she slowly turned back toward him. “It would be easier,” he continued softly. “If I could.”
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