12|Twisted Threads of Fate

12|Twisted Threads of Fate

Aaradhya Vidya Kapoor’s POV

The air around me felt heavier, suffocating in a way I couldn’t explain. Each step I took beside him sent a strange sensation through my spine—like déjà vu, like a memory trying to claw its way back to the surface.

Eshaan Verma.

I didn’t know why his presence unsettled me, why my heart clenched every time he looked at me like that. Like I was something fragile, something breakable.

Like I belonged to him.

His voice was smooth, casual, but I wasn’t stupid. Something about the way he spoke to me—like he was teasing a game only he understood—made me uneasy.

But the worst part?

I didn’t want to pull away.

I didn’t want to leave his side.

The corridors stretched ahead, but I barely registered where I was leading him. The university had been my sanctuary, my escape from something I couldn’t even remember. And now… it felt tainted. His presence changed everything.

I chanced a glance at him. He walked beside me, hands stuffed in his pockets, a relaxed smirk tugging at his lips. But his eyes… they told a different story.

Something dark. Something dangerous.

And I was at the center of it.

Eshaan Vikram Khanna’s POV

She didn’t remember everything. Not yet. But her body did.

The way she stiffened when I said “sweetheart.” The way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t watching—like her soul recognized mine, even if her mind refused to.

Aaradhya Vidya Kapoor.

My doll. My fucking obsession.

She thought she could live in a world where I didn’t exist? Thought she could smile, laugh, and move on like she hadn’t shattered me first?

No.

She had always belonged to me.

And I would carve my name into every part of her again.

She led me down the hallway, her fingers twitching slightly—nervous. She didn’t trust me. Not yet. But she would.

I would make sure of it.

Aaradhya Vidya Kapoor’s POV

I stopped at the entrance of the library, forcing myself to take a breath. “This is where most students spend time studying,” I murmured, trying to focus on the tour and not the way his presence made my skin tingle.

Eshaan tilted his head, his gaze burning into me. “And you?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Do you spend a lot of time here?” His voice was soft, but something about it sent a shiver through me.

“I… I do.”

He smiled, slow and knowing. “Figures.”

A memory flashed—something distant, something out of reach.

Books. Soft whispers. A hand tracing down my arm.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the ghost of something I couldn’t place. “We should move on.”

But before I could turn, his fingers brushed against mine.

It was barely a touch. A fleeting graze.

But it burned.

And just like that, the air between us shifted.

His voice was a murmur, just for me. “You feel it too, don’t you?”

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering in my chest.

Feel what?

I didn’t know.

And that terrified me.

Eshaan smirked, stepping back like he hadn’t just unraveled me in one moment.

I hated the way my body reacted to him.

I hated that a part of me didn’t want to run.

And worst of all?

I hated that his eyes felt like home.

Because I knew one thing for sure—

Home was the most dangerous place to be.

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