Chapter 14- Investigation Intensifies

NEXT MORNING

The morning sun cast a muted glow through the half-open blinds of ACP's office. The city outside was waking up—honks blaring, footsteps echoing in the police station corridors—but inside, silence reigned. The smell of strong black coffee lingered in the air, mixing with the musty scent of old case files stacked on his desk. A ticking clock on the wall marked each second, but Amar’s focus was elsewhere.

Amar sat in his dimly lit office, absentmindedly twisting a Rubik’s cube between his fingers. His sharp eyes, usually keen and observant, were focused on nothing in particular. Yet his mind—his greatest weapon—was anything but idle.

The case against Ishika Sehgal was supposed to be straightforward. A woman found sleeping next to a dead body—anyone would call it an open-and-shut case. But Amar never trusted simplicity, especially when it came gift-wrapped. Something about this didn’t sit right with him.

He let the Rubik’s cube click into place and set it aside, leaning back in his chair. The crime scene played over in his head like a well-rehearsed play, each detail meticulously arranged.

The body had been staged too perfectly. The weapon, a knife, had Ishika’s fingerprints, but the way it was placed—too neat, too deliberate—felt almost theatrical. As if someone wanted him to believe she was guilty.
He exhaled sharply, rubbing his jaw. “Someone’s smart” He murmured to himself. “But not smarter than me.”

He reached for the case file on his desk, flipping it open. Victim: Mr. Harshad Mehta. Wealthy businessman, known for his controversial dealings. Enemies? Plenty. But no apparent connection to Ishika Sehgal—except for the unfortunate fact that she had been found at the scene, unconscious.

He drummed his fingers on the desk, then reached for his phone.

“Constable Ahuja” he spoke into the receiver. “Get me the autopsy report and forensic analysis now. I want details on the time of death, the angle of the stab wound, and any foreign prints on that knife apart from Ishika’s.”

“Yes, sir.”

He hung up and grabbed his coffee cup, only to realize it was empty. With a muttered curse, he pushed back his chair and stood up. He needed fresh eyes on this case, a perspective beyond what was conveniently placed before him.

His mind reeled through the last few days. The arrest, the media frenzy, Yash Singhani's reaction. That man’s eyes hadn’t held guilt. No, Yash was angry. Furious, even. Not at the police, but at whoever had done this.
Interesting.

Amar smirked. Maybe Yash knew something.

Grabbing his coat, he strode out of his office. It was time to pay the Singhania mansion a visit.

━━༻❁༺━━

Morning in the Singhania mansion was never peaceful, but today, it was absolute chaos.

Servants ran up and down the halls, some carrying breakfast trays, others frantically cleaning up the remnants of last night’s pillow fight. Voices echoed from different corners of the mansion—Kabir arguing with Tara over god knows what, Dhruv laughing at something on his phone, and Dadi issuing orders like the head of the house she is.

And in the middle of all this, Yash stood in the grand living room, pinching the bridge of his nose, already exhausted.

“I swear to god, if one more person yells this early in the morning---”

“BILLU JI!”

Yash groaned. “And there it is.”

Ishika stormed into the living room, wearing an oversized t-shirt and leggings, her hair a complete mess.

“Why is my phone missing?! You took it, didn’t you????”

Yash rolled his eyes. “Why the hell would I take your phone?”

Ishika put her hands on her hips.

“Maybe because you’re petty and wanted revenge for last night’s game?”

“You mean the game I won?”

Her jaw dropped. “You dropped me on the floor!”

“And apologized for it.” Yash smirked.

“Which, by the way, I still regret.”

Before Ishika could throw a pillow at his head, a loud sound erupted at the main entrance. The mansion doors swung open, startling everyone. The guards stepped aside as ACP Amar Singh Chauhan walked in, his eyes sharp and calculating. Behind him, a few uniformed officers followed, their expressions unreadable.

The entire mansion seemed to freeze.
Dadi, who had just stepped down from the stairs, narrowed her eyes.

“Singhania mansion ka darwaza todne ki zarurat nahi thi ACP.”

(There was no need to break down the Singhania mansion’s door ACP.)

ACP Amar barely spared her a glance, his focus shifting straight to Ishika.

“Ishika Sehgal.”

Ishika stiffened.

Yash instinctively stepped forward, his entire demeanor shifting from playful annoyance to sharp protectiveness.

“What is this about?”

ACP Amar folded his arms.

“I have some questions regarding the murder of Harshad Mehta.”

Tension spread like wildfire. The playful energy that had once filled the room evaporated, replaced with an eerie silence.

Ishika, despite her heart pounding, crossed her arms. “I already told you everything I know.”

“And yet, the evidence keeps pointing back at you.”

Amar’s gaze didn’t waver.

“You were found at the scene of the crime, sleeping next to the victim’s body. That isn’t something I can ignore.”

Dadi scoffed. “Koi pagal hi hoga jo murder karke wahi so jaye”

(Only a fool would commit murder and then sleep right there)

Amar remained impassive.

“Intentional or not, Miss Sehgal, you are still the prime suspect.”

“Enough!!” Yash snapped. “If you want to question her, do it properly. Not barge into my house like this.”

“I will question her wherever and however I see fit.” ACP Amar took a step forward. “Unless you’d like to obstruct an investigation, Singhania?”

Yash clenched his jaw. Ishika grabbed his wrist, silently telling him to step back.

“I’ll answer your questions.” she said, her voice steady. “But not here. Let’s go somewhere private.”

ACP Amar studied her for a moment before nodding. “Fine. My officers will wait outside.”

As Ishika turned to follow him, she cast one last glance at Yash, who looked as if he wanted to tear someone apart.

Chaos had erupted in the Singhania mansion.

And it was far from over.

━━༻❁༺━━

The air in the room was thick, almost suffocating. The heavy curtains were drawn shut, allowing only slivers of daylight to slip through. A single lamp cast a dim glow over the polished mahogany table, where Ishika sat, her fingers gripping the armrest of her chair so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.

Across from her, ACP Amar leaned back, legs crossed, an unimpressed look in his sharp eyes. He rolled his shoulders, the leather of his holster creaking slightly as he adjusted his position. In his hand, he lazily twirled a pen, his gaze never leaving her face.
A heavy silence filled the room. Then, finallg---

"You look nervous, Ms. Sehgal."

Amar’s voice was calm, too calm, as if he already knew the answers to the questions he was about to ask.

"Is it the murder charges weighing on you, or something else?"

Ishika inhaled sharply.

"I’m not nervous" She replied, her voice steady despite the chaos swirling inside her.

"I just want to get this over with."

Amar let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Oh, trust me, Ms. Sehgal. It won’t be over anytime soon."

He leaned forward, flipping open a file on the table. Photographs slid across the surface—stark images of Harshad Mehta, his body sprawled on the floor, his lifeless eyes staring into nothing.

Ishika’s stomach twisted.

Amar observed her reaction carefully before speaking.

"Let’s start with the basics, shall we? You were found next to the body. Blood on your hands, your clothes. No signs of forced entry. No security footage showing anyone else coming or going. That’s quite an interesting coincidence, don’t you think?"

Ishika clenched her fists. "I told you already---- I don’t remember anything! I drank, I went to my room, and when I woke up, he was just... there. Dead."

Amar hummed, tapping the pen against the table."Drank how much, exactly?"

Ishika exhaled, looking away.

"Enough to forget the worst night of my life."

Amar nodded slowly. "Convenient. A failed business deal. Public humiliation. Scandal. And then the man responsible for rejecting you ends up dead in your room."

He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper.

"Tell me, Ms. Sehgal---was it revenge?"

Ishika snapped her head toward him, eyes blazing. "No!"

A tense silence followed.

Amar sighed, sitting back.

"Let’s go over it again. You were drinking—alone, you say?"

Ishika swallowed hard. "Yes."

"No visitors?"

"No one."

"And yet, somehow, Harshad Mehta was in your room?"

Ishika’s breath hitched.

"I-I don’t know how he got there."

Amar tilted his head, studying her.

"No memory at all?"

She shook her head.

Amar clicked his tongue.

"That’s a problem, Ishika. Because while you have nothing, I have evidence."

He pointed to the pictures again.

"And right now, it all points to you."

The room felt smaller, closing in on her. She felt trapped, suffocated.

A sharp kick on the door made them both turn.

"Enough."

KABIR’s POV:

Tara sat beside me, her fingers nervously twisting the edge of her dupatta. She hadn't said a word since Ishika went into that room with ACP Amar, but the way she kept glancing at the door, as if hoping Ishika would walk out any second, was enough to tell me how restless she was.

I wanted to tell her to breathe, to calm down. But before I could even move, Dhruv beat me to it.

He leaned in slightly, his voice low and firm. "Tara, Ishika will be fine. Chinta kyu krti hai tu, Sab sahi hojayega."

Tara blinked, looking up at him, and for a moment, I watched her hesitation melt into something softer. She nodded, inhaling deeply as if trying to take in his reassurance along with the air.

And just like that, my jaw clenched.

I didn’t even understand why, but something about the way Dhruv knew exactly what to say, the way Tara’s anxious face eased at his words—it unsettled me. It was stupid, ridiculous even, but I couldn’t shake the irritation gnawing at my chest.

Maybe it was because too much was happening at once.

Ishika was inside that damn room, probably being grilled by Amar. My bhai was standing outside, waiting with that stormy expression, ready to snap the second Ishika walked out. And then there was Tara, sitting right here, her emotions messing with my head in ways I didn’t understand.
Everything about her affected me too much.

I just didn’t know why.

DHRUV'S POV:

The tension in the room was suffocating. Tara sat beside Kabir, her hands clutching the edge of her dupatta so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She was worried—anyone with eyes could see that.
Ishika was her best friend, and now, she was being questioned for murder. It made sense for her to be tense, but the way she kept glancing at the closed door, her lips pressed into a thin line, made something tighten in my chest.

I didn’t like seeing her like this.
"Tara" I said, keeping my voice steady, "Ishika will be fine. Chinta kyu krti hai tu? Sab sahi hojayega"

She stilled at my words before turning her gaze to me. For a second, there was hesitation in her eyes, as if she wanted to believe me but wasn’t sure if she could. Then, she let out a slow breath and nodded.

Good. At least she wasn’t drowning in her thoughts now.

But before I could feel any sort of relief, I felt it...Kabir’s eyes on me.

His posture was rigid, his jaw clenched. He wasn’t looking at Tara anymore. No, his gaze was fixed on me, like something about what just happened had struck a nerve.

And I couldn’t figure out why.

With confusion filled voice, I asked him, "Kabir, thik hai na tu?"

(Kabir, you're okay, right?)

He just let out a sigh, his voice now a slow whisper, "nhi na... tension hone lagi mujhe."

(No... I'm tensed.)

I went and sat beside him, tapping his back lightly as I said, "thodi der me Yash aajayega na. Woh hai toh Ishika ko kuch nhi hoga."

(Yash will be here in a few minutes. Nothing will happen to Ishika when he's there.)

Kabir looked at me and smiled before nodding his head. It made me smile, too.

Hush, what would I even do without this idiot brother-like-friend, a human-chipkali aka Tara and 2 kiddos CEOs.

YASH'S POV:

I stood outside the room, arms crossed, jaw clenched so tightly it was a wonder my teeth hadn’t cracked yet. Every muscle in my body was tense, my patience hanging by a thread as I listened to ACP Amar’s interrogation.

His voice carried through the thick wooden door, sharp and methodical, each word laced with the quiet arrogance of a man who thought he had already solved the case.

"You look nervous, Ms. Sehgal."

I curled my fingers into fists.

Ishika wasn’t nervous—she was exhausted, frustrated, and being pushed into a corner. But Amar wasn’t just interrogating her. He was playing mind games, throwing accusation after accusation, hoping she’d break.

I paced. Once. Twice. My fists tightened with every passing second.

"Tell me, Ms. Sehgal—was it revenge?"
That was it.

My breath left me in a slow exhale, my pulse hammering in my ears. I wanted to kick the damn door open, drag Amar out, and remind him exactly who he was dealing with. But I forced myself to stay put, to let Ishika handle it. She didn’t need me barging in, making things worse.
But damn it, it took everything in me to not do just that.

Ishika’s voice was steady, but I heard the slight tremble underneath.

"I-I don’t know how he got there."

I ground my teeth. The worst part? She wasn’t lying. I knew that. And yet, she was being treated like a criminal, like some cold-blooded murderer who had plotted the entire thing.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

Storming to the door, I kicked it open, "Enough."

The door swung open, and Amar turned to look at me, that infuriating smirk still on his face.

"The interrogation is over."

Amar raised a brow, unimpressed. "I don’t take orders from you, Singhania."

I stepped inside, standing between him and Ishika, my voice dangerously low. "And I don’t let anyone harass my wife in my house."

His smirk didn’t waver, but I saw the flicker of irritation in his eyes. Good.
"For now" he muttered, shutting the file in front of him. He turned to Ishika, his expression unreadable. "I hope, for your sake, the truth is on your side."

And then, with all the arrogance he walked in with, he left the room.
I didn’t move, my fists still clenched. My eyes found Ishika’s, and for the first time, I saw just how drained she looked.

She let out a shaky breath, rubbing her temples.

I didn’t say anything.

I just stood there, fighting the growing need to punch something. Because for the first time in a long time....

I felt helpless.

ISHIKA’S POV:

The moment Amar left, the tension in the room remained. It clung to the air like thick smoke, suffocating, unshakable.

I let out a shaky breath, rubbing my temples, trying to gather myself.

And then I felt it--- his presence.

Yash stood a few feet away, his fists still clenched, his whole body humming with restrained anger. I didn’t have to look at him to know his jaw was locked, his eyes burning with the frustration he hadn’t been able to unleash on Amar.

For a brief moment, I let myself stare at him.

He had barged in like he owned the place—and well, technically, he did. But this wasn’t about ownership. This was about me.

"You didn’t have to do that" I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

His head snapped toward me, his brows furrowing.

"Are you serious, Ishika?" His voice was sharp, edged with something I couldn’t quite place. "He was treating you like a criminal."

I scoffed, leaning against the wall. "Newsflash, Yash. To him, I am one."

Silence.

For a long second, neither of us spoke.

His eyes were searching mine, like he was looking for something—some sign of weakness, some crack in the armor I’d barely managed to hold together through that brutal interrogation.

I hated it. I hated that he was seeing me like this—shaken, vulnerable, exhausted.

And yet, a part of me felt… lighter.

"You should’ve stayed outside." I said, my voice quieter this time.

He exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair. "I couldn’t."

That caught me off guard.
I blinked at him, unsure of how to respond. He couldn’t? What the hell did that mean?

He looked away first, his jaw tightening as if he regretted saying it.

"Ishika, this isn’t a game." His voice was low now, controlled. "They’re building a case against you. You were found next to the body. Your clothes were soaked in blood. This is—this is serious."

Like I didn’t already know that.
I pushed off the wall, crossing my arms.

"You think I don’t understand that?"

I whispered "I don’t know what to do, Yash."

The truth, raw and unfiltered.
His eyes softened—just a little. Just enough for me to catch it before he masked it again.

"Then let me help."

I looked at him. Really looked at him.
He meant it.

"This isn't going anywhere, Yash." I said, my voice filled with confusion.

"You know what? Sit here, do whatever the hell you want to."

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.

Yash was pissed.

I could see it in the way his shoulders had tensed before he walked out, in the way his fists had curled and uncurled, itching to punch something—or someone. But he hadn’t. Instead, he had stormed out, his frustration simmering beneath the surface, unspoken words left hanging in the air between us.

I exhaled sharply, sinking onto the edge of the bed. My body felt heavier than before, exhaustion pressing down on me like an invisible weight.
And then, my mind drifted back.

To his voice. To his words.

"I don’t let anyone harass my wife in my house."

The sentence played on repeat in my head, like a song stuck on an endless loop.

He had said it for Amar’s benefit. To make him leave. To put an end to the interrogation.

But it had hit me in ways I never imagined.

My wife.

The words shouldn’t have mattered. They shouldn’t have meant anything beyond the act he had been putting up for everyone.

And yet, they did.

Because for a split second—just a fleeting, impossible second—it hadn’t felt like an act.

I clenched my jaw, shutting my eyes tightly.

This wasn’t the time for these thoughts.

There was a case against me. I had woken up next to a dead body, covered in blood. The police were breathing down my neck. My life was on the verge of collapsing.

And here I was, letting a single sentence from Yash Singhania shake me.

I hated it.

I hated that it had affected me at all.

With a frustrated sigh, I pushed myself up, brushing my hands down my arms as if I could physically rid myself of the lingering weight of his words.

I needed to focus. I needed to clear my name.

And I needed to stop thinking about the way Yash had looked at me when he said those words.

━━༻❁༺━━

NIGHT TIME, DINNER

The dining hall of the Singhania mansion buzzed with the clinking of silverware and hushed conversations. Yash and Ishika sat across from each other, locked in their usual battle of sarcasm as they ate.

Kabir snickered while Dhruv and Tara exchanged knowing looks, barely holding in their laughter. They all knew what was coming.

Then, just as expected, Dadi, who had been eating quietly, suddenly cleared her throat. The entire room stilled as she smiled sweetly at the table.

"Mujhe ek zaroori baat kehni hai."

(I have something important to say)

Yash immediately tensed, his fork stopping mid-air. Ishika narrowed her eyes at Dadi. They had learned the hard way that Dadi’s "zaroori baatein" were never simple.

Dadi beamed. "Maine Yash aur Ishika ke honeymoon ke tickets book kar diye hain!" she announced, her voice filled with excitement.

(I've booked honeymoon tickets for Yash and Ishika!)

Silence.

Then, chaos.

Yash and Ishika choked simultaneously, their eyes widening in horror.

Ishika, caught mid-bite, nearly spat out her food, breaking into violent coughing. Yash grabbed his water so fast that he almost knocked over his glass.

But the real victim? Kabir.

The poor guy had just taken a sip of water when Dadi’s words landed like a bomb. The next second---PFFFSSHH!-- he spat the water straight onto Dhruv’s face.

There was a long, stunned silence.
Dhruv, completely drenched, slowly wiped his face, turned to Kabir, and deadpanned,

"Bhai tu thoda sa bkl hai kya?"

(Bro are you an ass?)

Kabir coughed, still recovering.

"Sorry, bro. Reflex action."

Tara, who had been desperately trying to hold in her laughter, failed miserably and ended up choking on her food instead. Dhruv sighed and patted her back as she gasped for air.

Meanwhile, Yash finally found his voice. "Honeymoon?! Dadi, aap serious hain?!"

(Honeymoon? Dadi are you serious?!)

Ishika, still catching her breath, choked out, "Aapne bina puche tickets book kar diye?!"

(You booked the tickets without asking?!)

Dadi tilted her head, all innocence.

"Haan toh? Pati-patni ho tum dono. Yeh toh expected hai na?"

(You guys are husband and wife, isn't it expected?)

Yash and Ishika exchanged panicked glances. This was bad. This was very bad.

Yash turned to Dadi, trying to reason with her. "Dadi, dekhiye---"

(Dadi, listen---)

Dadi raised a hand, effectively silencing him. "Main kuch nahi sun rahi. Maine sab arrange kar diya hai. Tum dono ja rahe ho, bas!"

(I'm not listening to anything! I've arranged everything and you both are going, that's it!)

Kabir, Dhruv, and Tara were struggling to hold in their laughter. Because they knew Dadi wasn’t actually fooled. She was playing them.

This was her master plan to push these two stubborn idiots together.
Yash leaned toward Ishika, his voice a low whisper.

"Hum refuse kar sakte hai, right?"

(We can refuse, right?)

Ishika whispered back, "Agar tum chahte ho ki Dadi hume zinda jala de, toh haa"

(If u want dadi to burn us alive then yes)

Dadi clapped her hands together.

"Bas, sab final hai! Tumhari train do din baad hai. Suitcase nikal lo!"

(You have your train in 2 days! Pack your suitcase!)

Yash groaned, dragging a hand down his face. Ishika looked like she wanted to bang her head on the table.

Kabir, Dhruv, and Tara? They simply shared victorious glances, grinning ear to ear.

YASH'S ROOM

Here chaos was inevitable. The five of them, Yash, Ishika, Kabir, Dhruv, and Tara, sat together, though it was less of a peaceful gathering and more of a verbal battlefield.

"Mujhe nahi jaana!" Ishika huffed, crossing her arms. "Train se toh bilkul nahi!"

(I don't want to go, especially from train!)

Yash scoffed, leaning back on the couch. "Mai bhi yahi keh raha hu, mujhe bhi kahi nahi jaana!"

(I don't want to go either!)

"Mai tumhari baat nahi kar rahi thi!"
she snapped.

(I'm not talking about you!)

Kabir, Dhruv, and Tara exchanged amused glances, watching the war unfold.

"Bas bas, tum dono pehle hi ek dusre ko maarne ka plan bana rahe ho?"

(Are you guys planning to kill each other already?)

Dhruv smirked. "Honeymoon toh yeh wale jhoothe honeymoon ke baad bhi possible hai, tum dono ka jo bhi chal raha hai."

(Yoi can go to honeymoon after this fake honeymoon too, whatever is happening between you both)

"Kuch nahi chal raha hai!" Yash and Ishika yelled in unison.

(Nothing is happening!)

"Kya pta kuch chal jaye." He smirked again.

(What jf something happens, who knows?)

"SHUT UP DHRUV" Yash and Ishika said in unison again.

Tara giggled. "Toh phir train ka sunke itna overreaction kyun?"

(Then why are you guys overreacting about train?)

"Overreaction?!" Ishika turned to her.

"Ek toh yeh honeymoon zabardasti ka hai, upar se train?! Kamse kam flight hoti toh jaldi nipat jata. Is Billu ka chehra zyada nhi dekhna pdta."

(This honeymoon is forced, plus journey by train?! If it was flight, it would've been less time consuming. I wouldn't have to see this billu's face for a long time)

"Matlab tum mere saath time spend nahi karna chahti? Ouch, kitna hurt hu mai." Yash placed a hand on his chest dratically.

(You don't want to spend time with me? Ouch, I'm hurt!)

"Woh toh dikh hi raha hai" Ishika rolled her eyes.

(I can see that)

Kabir, unable to resist, leaned forward. "Waise train ka plan Dadi ne sirf mazak mein nahi banaya, uska pura reason hai."

Yash narrowed his eyes. "Aur wo reason hai?"

(And the reason is?)

Dhruv smirked. "Time. Tum dono ek doosre se bhaag nahi sakte."

(Time. You can't run away from each other)

"Train mein 24 ghante tak ek doosre ko tolerate karna padega" Kabir added, clearly enjoying this.

(You'll have to tolerate each other in the train for 24 hours)

Ishika’s jaw dropped. "Kya?! 24 ghante?!”

(What?! 24 hours?!)

Yash groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Ek din mein mere dimaag ke kitne cells marne wale hai, koi toh batao."

(How many brain cells am I gonna lose in 24 hours, someone tell me!)

"Tumhare paas dimaag hai?!" Ishika gawked.

(Do you even have a brain?)

"Aur tumhare paas akal?" Yash shot back.

(And do you have sense?)

"Tumse zyada hai!" Ishika said again.

(More than you!)

"Nice joke! Brain eating bacteria will starve in your brain!" Yash shot back, again.

Tara clapped her hands, barely suppressing her laughter. "Oh god, train ke andar yeh dono kisi station pe utar ke alag alag bhaag na jaaye, iska koi jugaad karna padega."

(They both don't run away from each other, we need to make sure of it)

"Mujhe koi problem nahi hogi, Ishika agar kahi aur bhaag bhi gayi toh bhi" Yash shrugged. "Shaanti toh milegi."

(I have no problem if Ishika runs away, atleast I'll have some peace)

"Tume toh shaanti tab milegi jab tum duniya se bhaag jao" Ishika muttered.

(You'll have peace when you leave the world)

Kabir let out a dramatic sigh. "Waise ek baat socho, honeymoon toh bahut logon ka hota hai, par forced honeymoon sirf special logon ka hota hai."

(Many people go on honeymoon. Only special go on forced honeymoon)

Dhruv chuckled. "Aur tum dono bohot special ho."

(And you guys are very special)

Ishika groaned while Yash rolled his eyes.

Tara grinned. "Toh bas! Pack karna shuru karo. Dadi maanti hai tum dono real married couples ho, so waise hi behave kro! Good luck!"

(Lessgo! Start packing! Dadi believes you all are a married couple so act like it! Good luck!)

As Yash and Ishika exchanged murderous glares, Kabir, Dhruv, and Tara sat back, enjoying every moment of the show.

━━༻❁༺━━

As soon as they stepped out of Yash and Ishika’s room, Kabir, Dhruv, and Tara exchanged knowing glances. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, their hands shot up in sync-
"Plan successful!" they cheered, high-fiving each other.

Dhruv smirked. "Ek dusre se ladte ladte thak jayenge, phir pyaar ho hi jayega."

(They will get tired of fighting with each other and at last fall in love)

Tara chuckled. "Bas ab dekhna, yeh honeymoon nahi, ek blockbuster rom-com hone wala hai. Pehle ladayi, phir confusion, aur phir…ehehehehe" She wiggled her eyebrows mischievously.

(This isn't a honeymoon but a blockbuster rom-com. Fight, confusion and then...ehehehehe)

Kabir scoffed, crossing his arms. "Tum dono itne optimistic mat bano. Tumhe pata bhi hai ki andar kya ho rha hai?"

(Don't be so optimistic. Do you even know what's happening?)

Dhruv raised a brow. "Abhi toh sirf arguments ho rahe hain. Ek na ek din toh—"

(Its just arguments for now but someday-)

Kabir cut him off dramatically, sighing. "Bas yahi dua hai ki yeh ek dusre ka khoon na karde… warna honeymoon ke jagah shraad manana padega."

(All I hope is that they don't end up murdering each other. Or else we'll have to arrange a funeral instead of honeymoon)

Tara burst into laughter while Dhruv shook his head, amused.

"Chalo, ab so jao!" Tara said, still giggling. "Kal subah tak shayad ek dusre ko maarne ka plan bana bhi lein yeh dono."

(Let's sleep now. They might also make the plan to kill each other by morning)

Kabir smirked. "Agar subah tak dono zinda rahe toh samajhna asli honeymoon shuru ho gaya hai. Kya karu haayeee kuch kuch hota haiii"

(If both of them are alive till morning, just know that honeymoon has started already.)

With that, the three walked away, leaving the two most stubborn people in their own mess—unknowingly stepping onto a path neither of them had planned for.

━━༻❁༺━━

YASH AND ISHIKA'S ROOM

As soon as the trouble trio went out, Yash threw his phone onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. He then sat on one side of the bed and Ishika sat on the other, equally annoyed.

"Ek toh honeymoon ka jhatka alag mila, upar se train se jaana padega? Yeh Dadi bhi na, kamal karti hain!" Yash groaned.

(Honeymoon, that too, journey from train?! Dadi does wonders!)

"Tumhe problem kya hai? Mujhe lagta hai Dadi ki plan yahi hai ki hum ek dusre se irritate hoke suicide attempt karlein!" Ishika shot back.

(I feel like dadi wants us to commit suicide after getting irritated by each other)

"Mai toh pehle hi train se kudne ki soch raha hoon!" Yash muttered.

(I'm already thinking of jumping from the train)

"Haa haa kar lo! Duniya se ek idiot kam hoga!"

(Do it! There will be one less idiot in this world!)

"Mujhe aisa lag raha hai jaise ek punishment mil rahi ho!"

(I'm feeling like I'm getting a punishment!)

"Arey o, C grade movie ke D grade villain, acting band karo apni!" Ishika rolled her eyes.

(Stop your acting, D grade villain ftom a C grade movie!)

While they continued their chikidsh arguments, the weather outside changed drastically. The room echoed with their endless bickering, neither willing to back down. Their sarcastic remarks flew back and forth like a never-ending battle, until,
CRACK.

The bedside lamp flickered before going out with a sharp pop, plunging the room into absolute darkness.

A heavy silence followed.

Then...

BANG.

Thunder roared outside, shaking the windows violently.

Ishika’s breath hitched. Her fingers instinctively clenched the sheets, her body stiffening.

"No no no no..." she whispered under her breath.

Yash, who had been rolling his eyes at her dramatic responses all evening, immediately went still. He knew this silence. He knew this hesitation.
"She’s scared." He thought.

"Great!" Ishika finally spoke, her voice forcibly casual, but the slight tremor gave her away. "Ab kya karna hai?"

(What now?)

"Light chali gayi hai, aur kya?" Yash deadpanned.

(Light went off, what else?)

"Wah! You're a genius! Mujhe toh pata hi nahi tha!" she snapped, but her voice lacked its usual fire.

(Wow, you're a genius! I didn't knew this!)

A deafening thunderclap followed, sending a gust of wind rattling through the windows. The room suddenly felt colder.

Yash shifted slightly, watching her. Ishika’s arms were tightly crossed over her chest, her nails digging into her arms.

"She’s trying to act tough" he realized.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Ohh, toh madam ko andhere aur toofan se dar lagta hai?"

(So madam is scared of darkness and thunder?)

"Mai kisi se nahi darti!" Ishika huffed.

(I'm not scared of anything!)

Another sharp BOOM of thunder.

Ishika jumped---her entire body jerking before she could stop herself.

Yash bit his lip, trying not to laugh, but a chuckle escaped anyway. "Ohhh, bilkul bhi nahi darti, right?"

(Oh, not scared at all, right?)

"Shut up, Yash!" she snapped, pressing herself against the headboard.
Yash leaned back, resting his hands behind his head.

"Waise ek idea hai—agar tum itni zyada darr rahi ho, toh mujhe hug kar lo. Mai hu na, protect karne ke liye" He smirked, knowing it would piss her off more.

(Well you can hug me if you're scared..I'm here to protect you)

Ishika turned to glare at him, her eyes flashing even in the dark. "Tumhe na, ek din mai sach mein maar daalungi!"

(I'll literally kill you for real some day)

Yash chuckled. "Sure, sweetheart. But how about you try to survive today's night?"

She scoffed, trying to act unaffected, but then...

THUD.

A sound near the window.

Ishika froze.

Before she could think, her hand shot out—grabbing onto Yash’s arm.

Yash’s smirk disappeared as he felt her fingers dig into his skin. She’s actually scared...

He glanced at her. She was holding her breath, her grip tight, her nails practically stabbing his forearm.

"Main toh keh raha tha, tum hi mana kar rahi thi" Yash whispered, teasing, but his voice was softer this time.

(I told you already... you declined yourself!)

Realizing what she had done, Ishika snatched her hand away as if she had touched fire. "Mai… bas check kar rahi thi ki tum abhi tak zinda ho ya nahi. Aise bhi billiyan darti hai bijli se"

(I was just checking if you're still alive or not. Cats are scared of thunder anyways)

Yash snorted. "Of course- WHAT THE HELL!"

She turned away with a huff, pulling her knees to her chest. Yash watched her for a moment before sighing.

She won’t ask for help even if she needs it...

"Suno" he muttered.

Ishika didn’t reply.

Yash rolled his eyes. "You can shift closer if needed. Mai aisa waisa nhi hu, sacchi."

(I'm not a creep, really.)

A few minutes passed in silence. The storm outside raged on. Yash didn't say anything more, but he stayed awake, aware of her every small movement.

At some point, Ishika-- without saying a word-- moved just a little closer to the bed, still not looking at him.
Yash smirked in the darkness.

"Baby steps."

The power returned suddenly, making Ishika jerk again. The soft glow of the lamp filled the room, and she quickly lay down, pulling the blanket over herself, as if nothing had happened.

Yash stretched lazily. "Chalo, bohot drama ho gaya. Ab so jao!"

"Haa haa, tum bhi!" she muttered.

Both turned away from each other, determined to ignore what just happened.

But sleep?

That wasn’t coming anytime soon.

A/N: Honeymoon chaos will be utterly HILARIOUS! <3