31."A Rajput's Obsession"

SIYA S POV

The moment I stepped into the room, my breath hitched, and my heart clenched in a way I never expected. The view in front of me... it was something I never imagined experiencing in my whole life.

I had been drowning in anxiety, worrying about how Hukkum Sa would react to my condition. The discomfort, the uneasiness, and the fear of being a burden weighed on me. But the instant my eyes landed on the sight before me, all my thoughts came to a halt.

A huge chocolate fridge stood there, filled to the brim with all my favorites. Next to it were neatly arranged boxes of different sanitary pads, carefully selected. Hot bags were placed beside them, waiting to provide comfort. It wasn’t just the thoughtfulness of it all—it was the effort, the silent understanding, the way he cared even when he never voiced it.

Unwantedly, uncontrollably, my eyes welled up, and a sob broke free from my lips. Before I could even process my emotions, he was there—emerging from nowhere, pulling me into his embrace. His arms wrapped around me, firm yet gentle, as if shielding me from all the pain in the world.

His hands caressed my head, fingers moving in slow, soothing strokes, whispering unspoken words of comfort. And in that moment, I realized—he might carry the world as a sigma man, showing strength, dominance, and control, but beneath that façade, he was something much more. A man with a heart soft enough to care, to understand, to love in the most silent yet profound ways.

As my tears refused to stop, he did what I least expected—lifting me effortlessly into his arms. My legs dangled, my emotions overwhelmed me, but he held me as if I was his most precious treasure. And as I buried my face in his chest, I knew—this was love, the kind every human deserves but only a few are lucky enough to find.

Minutes passed as I remained in his arms, my body pressed against his bare chest, absorbing the warmth I desperately needed. His skin radiated heat, a comforting contrast to the dull ache within me.

Still nestled against him, I finally spoke, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why did you do this for me? Why, God?" My fingers twitched slightly against his skin, hesitant yet seeking something—an answer, a reason, anything to make sense of this moment.

I would have been fine even if he hadn’t cared, even if he had ignored my discomfort. But what he was doing… it was making me fall for him, again and again, deeper than I ever intended.

Why doesn’t this man understand?

Why can’t he see that if I fall for him, how will I survive when he won’t be there for me?

He gently made me stand on my feet, his hands steadying me as if I were fragile, as if I might break. His fingers moved with such tenderness, wiping away my tears like I was a child seeking attention—and with his whole heart, he was giving it to me.

I knew I had troubled him last night, maybe even made him angry. The thought lingered in my mind—I needed to apologize. But then, looking at him now, at the way he was caring for me, understanding my pain without me saying a word…

I wished he would never do this.

Not because it wasn’t beautiful, not because I didn’t crave it, but because it was dangerous. He was making it impossible for me not to fall for him.

And then, in that soft, calm voice of his, he said the words that shattered me—"Because you needed it."

I was done. This man… he was such a gentleman.

But why? Why did he have to be like this?

My emotions surged, overwhelming me, and before I could stop myself, my hands flew to his bare chest. I started hitting him, my palms landing against his warm skin—not with force, not in anger, but in frustration, in helplessness.

Why does he not understand?

He slowly held my wrists, stopping me before I could continue. His grip was firm yet gentle, grounding me in the moment. But before either of us could say anything, my eyes drifted past him—and that’s when I saw it.

The entire room.

I had thought I had seen everything, that the small gestures were all there was, but no—what I had noticed earlier was just 25% of it.

My breath caught in my throat as I pulled away from him, my feet moving on their own. I walked around the room, taking in every little detail, every effort he had made. My heart pounded, emotions swelling inside me, too strong to contain.

And then, I don’t know what took over me. I had wanted to stay silent, to say nothing, to just curl up and sleep.

But instead—I shouted.

Bro...

My eyes widened as I took in the sight before me. Three entire freezers. Stacked with chocolates. Hundreds of packets of pads. Ice creams. Heating pads. More than I could even count.

"Itni mehnat karte hain ye… inhe in cheezon mein waste karne ki kya zarurat thi?" (He works so hard… why did he need to waste it all on these things?) My voice trembled, frustration mixing with something else—something I wasn’t ready to name.

I hadn’t even asked for anything. Not a single thing. Then why?

How can he waste his money like this? No, abhi batati hoon (I’ll tell him right now).

Did he expect me to sell them or what? What was I supposed to do with all this?

When I had needed care the most, not a single person had come forward. I had endured alone, always. But now—now he was the one caring?

No, he wasn’t just caring. He was making me lose my mind.

I was still speaking when, in the middle of it all, a man entered the room.

I paused, my eyes narrowing slightly—I didn’t recognize him. From head to toe, he was covered with teddy bears and cute munchkins. Like, seriously?

I instinctively stepped aside to let him enter, still trying to process what I was seeing. Who even walks in like that?

But the moment he put everything down, and I finally got a clear look at his face—realization hit me.

He was none other than Veer Bhai Sa.

His face looked drained, exhaustion clear in his eyes. His shoulders sagged slightly, his entire posture screaming fatigue.

Maybe he hadn’t even slept last night.

I ordered him to rest today, already thinking, "Aaj toh isko mai batati hoon." (Today, I’ll make sure he understands.)

As soon as Veer Bhai Sa left the room, I turned toward him, my frustration boiling over.

"Ek toh khud apni mehnat ki kamayi aise waste kar di, aur upar se khud bhi chain se sote nahi… Veer Bhai Sa ko bhi rest nahi karne diya!" (First, he wasted his hard-earned money like this, and on top of that, he doesn’t even sleep properly… and didn’t let Veer Bhai Sa rest either!)

I reached out, attempting to grab his hair, but this man—this stubborn, impossible man—was lost in some other world.

I snapped my fingers in front of his face, annoyance creeping into my voice. "Come to my level!"

"Pata nahi khambe jaise lamba hoke kya hi ukhaad liya inhone!" (I don’t know what he thinks he’s achieved by being this tall!).

"Aaj toh pitoge mujhse… bilkul! Kharach karne se pehle nahi sochte!" (Today, you’re getting scolded for sure! Do you never think before spending?)

As soon as he leaned down to my level, I grabbed his hair in a strong grip, pulling lightly.

And just like that, he let out a sharp, exaggerated—"Maiyyyaaa!"

I showed him everything—the sheer amount of things he had brought.

"Seriously?!" I huffed, my arms crossed.

And why the hell was he looking at everything like he had never seen them before? Like he himself had no idea how much he had bought?!

Uhhhhhh!

I let go of his hair, my frustration only growing.

Why is he like this?

Why is he so damn soft?

I was tired—tired of this side of him. The way he cared, the way he did things without thinking about himself. How could someone this unreal actually exist?

He wasn’t just any man.

He felt like someone who had stepped straight out of one of my books.

I asked him to sit on the couch, half expecting him to refuse this time.

But no.

“Is baar toh mana karenge mujhe… but no—green forest banani hai inko, yrr. I really wanna cry now.” (I thought he’d deny it this time… but no, he just has to be this unreal. I swear, I wanna cry now.)

He said nothing. Nothing at all.

Before I could even process my thoughts, I found myself settling into his lap.

Yes.

I had no idea why I was behaving like this. No idea why I couldn’t stop myself.

But looking at him—seeing him like this, following my every word without a single complaint, making sure I didn’t even feel the slightest discomfort—

Not even a little.

He was giving me a comfort I had never known. A comfort even my family never gave.

I hugged him tightly, my arms clutching onto him as if he was the only thing keeping me grounded.

And the way he gently caressed my head…

It sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach—

and at the same time, it felt like heaven.

I told him everything—the things I had been hiding for years.

Things I hadn’t even admitted to myself.

But today… I shared them with him.

And like always, he listened. Not interrupting, not questioning—just listening.

And when I finally confessed… confessed my true feelings—

My fear.

"What if you leave me?"

"What would I do?"

"I can’t bear to lose someone who actually cares about me…"

Before I could even complete the sentence, he stopped me.

His hands reached up, firm yet gentle, forcing me to look at him.

His fingers cupped my face, holding me in place—but it wasn’t his touch that froze me.

It was his eyes.

Just one look. One single stare.

And my inner turmoil—the storm of emotions raging inside me—

It all stopped.

Like just through his mere gaze, he controlled me.

Controlled my emotions.

And when he finally said those words—

Oh. My. God.

I swear, if I wasn’t already sitting in his lap, I would have either fainted right there or just collapsed into a puddle of emotions.

My heart was already racing, my mind barely keeping up with the moment, and then he had to go and say something so intense, so breathtakingly perfect that I forgot how to breathe for a second.

And that Rajputani-style line?

Like, seriously?!

Who even talks like that in real life? This man—my husband—he wasn’t real.

We had an unexpected marriage, a relationship that had started without choice, without love… yet here he was, showering me with so much affection, care, and devotion.

If this was how he treated me in a marriage that neither of us had planned, then what would he have been like in a love marriage?

Just the mere thought sent a shiver down my spine—

Soch ke hi dil garden-garden ho gaya. (Just imagining it made my heart feel like a blooming garden.)

How could someone like him exist? How could someone love like this?

And when he said—

"Aap jaana bhi chahegi, tab bhi nahi jaane denge." (Even if you wish to leave, I still won’t let you go.)

Oh. My. God.

The intensity in his eyes, the depth of emotions that flickered just for a few seconds, and that undeniable authority in his voice—

It sent shivers down my spine.

His words weren’t just a statement; they were a promise. A command.

And then, so effortlessly, he reached out and wiped my tear-streaked face with his hands.

His touch was gentle, yet firm.

Caring, yet powerful.

The way his fingers brushed against my skin—slow, deliberate, like he was erasing every trace of pain from my face—

It was enough.

My eyes shut on their own.

My breath hitched.

For the first time in what felt like ages, I felt sukoon. (Peace.)

My heart, which had been thundering inside my chest, finally slowed down.

I had never imagined that a person—**a man, no less—**could ever give me this kind of care. This kind of unwavering devotion.

But he did.

And I didn’t know if I could ever live without it again.

And while slowly caressing my cheek, he whispered—

"Dard ho raha hai?" (Is it hurting?)

His voice was filled with tension, care, and so much love that for a moment, I forgot about everything else.

But the second his words settled in—I finally felt it.

The dull, aching pain in my stomach that I had been ignoring all this time… it was bad.

I nodded in response to his question, suddenly aware of how much it hurt.

And then, without a second thought—he lifted me into his arms.

Effortlessly. As if I weighed nothing.

He didn’t ask, didn’t hesitate—just carried me.

And then, without a word, he walked towards the bed, holding me close.

Slow, steady steps—but never once loosening his grip.

I knew I should be feeling weak right now, exhausted because of the pain—

But all I could focus on was him.

His warmth, his strength, the way his arms wrapped around me like a shield.

"I love being in this purush’s (man’s) arms."

The thought came unbidden, but I didn’t fight it.

Because it was true.

He helped me settle comfortably on the bed, his hands adjusting the pillows, tucking the blanket around me with a gentleness that made my heart ache.

How can I stop myself from falling for him?

Every action, every touch—it was too much, yet never enough.

But then—he pulled his hands away.

Why?

I had just said no to him a moment ago, but now I didn’t want him to leave.

Why was he stepping back?

Can’t he stay with me a little longer?

Doesn’t he see how much I need him right now?

It hurts too much.

And then—he said it.

"Jaana." (Love.)

I’m dead. I’m absolutely dead.

His voice.

His eyes.

That deep, husky tone, still heavy with sleep—

How?

How can someone be this effortlessly attractive without even trying?

And right after waking up?

This man… he’s dangerous for my heart.

Unknowingly, my grip on his hand loosened, slipping away before I could even process what was happening. My mind was still clouded, my body exhausted, and yet—before I could even function properly, he was already back.

And this time, he held a hot pouch in his hands.

Without a word, he handed it to me, his gaze holding a silent command—"Take it."

I pressed the warm pouch against my aching stomach, letting out a small sigh of relief. The warmth soothed me instantly, easing the discomfort, but not nearly as much as the way he was looking at me—like he was still waiting, still watching over me.

And then—he bowed.

BOWED.

"Kitna cute banega yrr ye banda?" (How much cuter can this man get?)

I stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

Did he just—??

Oh, Bhagwan! (Oh, God!)

"Kaunse punya kiye the maine?" (What good deeds did I do to deserve this?)

This is not normal. This is not real.

I mean—I hadn’t even kept a Solah Somvar ka vrat (a sixteen-Monday fast for Lord Shiva).

"Ye kaunse janam ke fal yaha de rahe ho mujhe, iske roop mein?" (Which past life's karma are you rewarding me for in the form of this man?)

My mind was still recovering from the absolute cuteness overload when he spoke again—

And this time, he destroyed me.

"Kya khana pasand karegi aap, Rani Sahiba?" (What would you like to eat, My Queen?)

I am dead. Gone. Vanished. Poof.

THE GREAT KING OF RAJASTHAN IS TAKING MY ORDER.

What do I do now? Where do I hide my face?

Should I just curl up and die of embarrassment?

Why is he like this?

Why is he saying things like this? Does he not realize the effect he has on me?

I had expected so many things from him…

I had thought he would find periods disgusting.

I had thought he would stay distant.

I had thought he would not care.

But I was wrong.

I am always wrong about him.

And then—he came back with a vanilla ice cream tub.

Bro.

VANILLA?!

Out of all the flavors in the world, he had to pick the one I hated the most.

I mean, come on! Chocolate? Strawberry? Even butterscotch would have worked—but no, vanilla.

I sighed.

But honestly? It didn’t matter.

Even if he had given me sukhi roti (dry roti), I would have taken it with a smile.

How could I not?

How could I say no to him?

"Itna toh jisne paida kiya usne kadar na ki..." (Even the one who gave birth to me didn’t value me this much...)

And yet, here he was—this unexpected, unbelievable man, treating me like I was precious.

But what if…?

What if one day, he leaves too?

"Agar iss insaan ne bhi chhod diya toh?" (If this man leaves me too…?)

No.

No, I won’t survive that.

This time, if I lose someone like him—

I will make sure I die trying.

I smiled softly, looking at him—at this new side of him.

At the man who didn’t just exist in my life… he had made himself my home.

I held out my hand.

"Baitho yaha." (Sit here.)

He obeyed without a word, settling beside me as I took the ice cream tub from his hands.

I scooped a spoonful and took a bite.

Hmm.

Not that bad.

Or maybe it’s just because he got it for me.

"Mard jo laake diya hai tumhara." (Your man brought it for you, after all.)

My subconscious mind mocked me, smug and teasing.

And honestly?

For once, I didn’t have a comeback.

As he settled just beside me, something felt missing.

His warmth.

His presence was right here, yet I still felt the need to be closer.

So, without hesitation—

I gathered all my courage, convincing myself with the most logical argument I could find.

"Anjaane hi sahi… biwi toh main hi hoon… itna toh haq banta hai." (Even if unintentionally, I am still his wife… I have at least this much right.)

And with that, I rested my head on his bare chest.

His skin was warm—like a soothing fire on a cold night—and as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he simply leaned back against the dashboard, letting me stay right there.

For a few moments, it was just us.

His heartbeat.

His presence.

His silent acceptance of me being this close.

And then, suddenly—a thought crossed my mind.

"Should I share this with him?"

I glanced at the ice cream tub in my hand.

Now, let’s be real.

Me? Getting up to grab another spoon? Not happening.

So, without a second thought, I simply offered him mine.

Same spoon. No hesitation.

And like a good boy—my boy—

He took it.

As I continued eating, a thought kept nagging at me—a simple question, yet it refused to leave my mind.

And me being me, I didn’t just ask it normally.

I pulled his hair.

Because why not?

And then came his reply—

"I llllllllllllloooooooooooooooooooovvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee this man."

Bhai… Mard jaat ka yeh roop toh maine aaj tak kabhi dekha hi nahi tha. (I have never seen this side of a man before.)

If I did sixteen thousand 'Somvar vrats' also, I still wouldn’t be able to thank God enough for this blessing.

But still… itni jaldi nahi manungi. (I won’t give in so easily.)

And then, just like that—without even answering my question—he had the audacity to say he wanted to freshen up.

BRO.

"Don’t leave me."

My brain panicked as I watched him turn away.

And before he could take another step, I forced my mind to work—

And came up with one more question.

I asked him how he knew that I was on my periods.

His reply? Not shocking for me.

But maybe for him.

Because his face— oh God, his face.

It went from ‘Enjoy your ice cream’ to ‘Ye kya bol diya maine?’ (What did I just say?)

Busted.

I narrowed my eyes at him, questioning him further.

And unknowingly, he answered.

But before I could even process it, I felt his gaze on me—sharp yet soft, piercing yet warm.

Ab thank you bhi toh sun liya tha yrrr (He already heard me say thank you), ab kya apni aankhon se nigalne ka irada hai mujhe? (Now does he plan to swallow me whole with his gaze?)

Before I could say anything—

HE RAN.

Straight to the bathroom.

Like—BRO.

I literally just looked at him!

I waited for him, but after finishing that entire tub of unwanted vanilla ice cream, I realized I couldn’t eat another bite. It wasn’t my favorite, and if it were anyone else, I would have thrown tantrums. But it was him. The man who went out of his way to take care of me, the man who—despite our unexpected marriage—treated me like I was the most precious thing in his world.

Still, my stomach wasn’t satisfied. I needed something warm, something comforting.

I wasn’t in the mood to rest anymore; the pain had dulled, and lying in bed wasn’t helping. So, I forced myself up and made my way downstairs. The kitchen was quiet except for the gentle sounds of cooking. One of the house cooks was already at work, and I approached him, my voice softer than usual.

"Mujhe simple upma chahiye abhi." (I just want simple upma for now.)

I didn’t want anything heavy—just something light, something that would make me feel better.

Within minutes, the upma was ready. The warm, familiar aroma filled the air, making my stomach rumble slightly. I took a seat in the dining room, tapping my fingers lightly on the wooden table, waiting for Hukam Sa.

But he wasn’t here yet.

The silence stretched, making me restless. Maybe he was still in his room? Maybe he had dozed off again? The thought of him resting for a while longer felt satisfying. He had been awake all night, fussing over me, making sure I was comfortable. He deserved a few more minutes of sleep.

But then again, I wanted him here.

So, I decided to call him.

As I stepped out of the kitchen, the grand staircase came into view.

And there he was—

Hukam Sa.

Coming down the stairs in a hurry.

Dressed in just a crisp white shirt and pants, his hair slightly damp from his bath. His face looked relaxed, yet his eyes carried the same intensity as always.

A smile unconsciously formed on my lips as I watched him approach.

But then—

A sharp, searing pain shot through my lower abdomen.

It was so sudden, so unexpected, that I froze.

My body trembled.

My fingers instinctively clutched at my stomach.

The warmth of my smile faded—replaced by the cold grip of pain.

Hukam Sa was there—so close—just a few steps away.

But my vision blurred.

My knees wobbled.

My breath hitched.

My hands—frantically searching for support—met nothing but air.

Everything around me felt distant.

The voices. The surroundings.

The last thing I saw was him—his worried eyes, his lips parting as if calling my name.

And then—

Silence.

Everything around me—

Turned black.

________

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