16. RAIN

VIKRAM SINGH RAJVANSH'S POV

As I ride my Ducati through the winding roads, Vyom's arms wrapped tightly around my waist, I feel a sense of freedom and exhilaration. The dinner at the fancy restaurant was a success, and Vyom seemed to enjoy himself. I glance back at him, his face lit up by the passing streetlights, and feel a surge of affection.

But as we ride, the sky grows darker, and I can sense the storm brewing. Suddenly, the rain comes pouring down, soaking us to the bone. I expertly maneuver the bike to the side of the road, seeking shelter under a nearby shed.

As we huddle together under the shed, waiting for the storm to pass, I can feel Vyom's body tense up. The rain pounds against the metal roof, creating a deafening din, and I wrap my arms around Vyom, holding him close.

But then, a blinding flash of lightning illuminates the dark sky, and Vyom's body goes rigid. He buries his face in my chest, his breathing rapid and shallow. I realize, with a jolt of concern, that he's having a panic attack.

I hold him tighter, trying to calm him down. "Shh, Vyom, it's okay," I whisper into his ear. "I've got you. You're safe."

But he's beyond reason, his body trembling with fear. I try to remember everything I've learned about panic attacks, about how to calm someone down. I speak softly, reassuringly, trying to break through the fog of fear that's consumed him.

As the storm rages on outside, I hold Vyom close, feeling his heart racing against mine. I can feel his panic, his fear, and I want to absorb it all, to take it away from him.

Slowly, gradually, Vyom's trembling begins to subside. His breathing slows, and he looks up at me, his eyes wide with fear. I smile, trying to reassure him, and he buries his face in my chest once more.

This time, it's not fear that's driving him, but something else. Something deeper. I feel it too, a sense of connection, of intimacy, that goes beyond words.

As the storm begins to clear, I realize that this moment, right here, right now, is one I'll never forget. Vyom's panic attack has brought us closer together, has shown me a vulnerability in him that I hadn't seen before.

And as I hold him close, feeling his heart beating against mine, I know that I'll do anything to protect him, to keep him safe. Anything.

As I hold Vyom close, He still not calm yet. I can feel his body shaking with sobs. He's crying so hard, it's like his whole world is crumbling around him. I try to comfort him, whispering soothing words into his ear, but nothing seems to be working.

I glance around, trying to think of something, anything, to distract him from his pain. But we're alone, under this shed, with nothing but the sound of the rain and Vyom's ragged breathing.

I need to distract him for the good.

He scared from the thunder and rain.

He needs to be free from it.

But I fear what if he started to hate me because of this.

I'm not a gentle man, not when it comes to the things that matter. I'm harsh, demanding, and unyielding. But with Vyom, I'm different. I'm gentle, even when I'm being rough.

I look down at Vyom, his face scrunched up in pain, his eyes closed as he cries. I can feel his heart breaking, and I want to fix it, to make it better.

"Vyom?" I say, my voice low and rough. "May I kiss you?"

Vyom's sobs slow, and he looks up at me, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. He looks at me like he's not sure what I'm asking, like he's not sure what's happening.

But then, something shifts in his eyes. Something softens, and he nods. Just a small nod, but it's enough.

I take a deep breath, and I lean in. My lips crash against Vyom's, hard and demanding. It's not a gentle kiss, not a soft kiss. It's a harsh, consuming kiss that takes everything from him.

Vyom's body melts into mine, his lips parting as he gasps for air. I take advantage of his open mouth, my tongue sweeping in to claim him. He tastes like tears and rain, like pain and sorrow. But I don't care. I want him, all of him, every part of him.

I kiss him like I'm starving, like I need him to survive. I kiss him like I'm trying to consume him whole, like I want to swallow him up and make him a part of me.

Vyom's arms wrap around my neck, his fingers digging into my hair as he holds me close. He kisses me back, his lips moving against mine in a fierce, desperate rhythm.

We kiss like that for what feels like hours, our lips locked together in a fierce, consuming passion. The storm rages on outside, but we're in our own little world, a world of heat and passion and desire.

Finally, we break apart, gasping for air. Vyom's eyes are wide and dazed, his lips swollen and bruised. I feel a pang of guilt, but it's quickly replaced by a sense of satisfaction. I've marked him, claimed him as my own.

And as we stand there, panting and trembling with desire, I know that nothing will ever be the same again.

As the rain finally begins to subside, I hold Vyom close, feeling his exhausted body relax into mine. He's cried himself out, and now he's just a limp, fragile thing in my arms. I feel a pang of concern, of protectiveness, as I realize just how broken he is.

Just then, I hear the sound of a car pulling up, and I glance up to see Prithvi, my assistant, stepping out of the driver's seat. I nod at him, and he hurries over to us.

"Sir?" he says, his eyes flicking to Vyom's limp form in my arms.

"I need you to take us back to the penthouse," I tell him, my voice low and firm. "And call Dr. Kumar. I want him to meet us there."

Prithvi nods, his face expressionless, and opens the car door for me. I carefully lift Vyom into my arms, feeling his head loll against my shoulder, and slide into the car.

As Prithvi gets behind the wheel and starts driving, I hold Vyom close, feeling his ragged breathing slow down. He's passed out, exhausted from his tears and his fears.

I glance down at him, feeling a surge of tenderness. He's so fragile, so vulnerable. And yet, he's also so strong, so resilient.

As we drive through the quiet streets, I feel a sense of responsibility wash over me. I need to take care of him, to protect him from the world. And I will. I'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe.

We pull up to the penthouse, and Prithvi opens the door for me. I carefully lift Vyom out of the car, feeling his weight settle into my arms.

As we step into the penthouse, I see Dr. Kumar waiting for us, his face concerned. "Vikram?" he says, his eyes flicking to Vyom's limp form in my arms.

"He's had a rough night," I tell him, my voice low. "I need you to check him out, make sure he's okay."

Dr. Kumar nods, and together, we move to the bedroom, where I gently lay Vyom down on the bed. As Dr. Kumar begins to examine him, I stand back, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over me.

I want to fix this, to make Vyom better. But I know I can't. All I can do is be here for him, support him through this difficult time.

And that's exactly what I'll do.

After some time, dr. Kumar came to me after examining him,

"Dr. What is wrong with him?"

"Did he experienced something,that triggered him?"

"Well, he got worked up while we were out in the rain, suddenly he started crying out loud and then after sometimes he passed out."

"Does he usually have some nightmares?"

"Yes, one time I saw him."

"This seems like PTSD. He is going crazy little by little."

I feel a chill run down my spine as Dr. Kumar's words sink in. PTSD? Going crazy? I look over at Vyom, who's still lying on the bed, his eyes closed. He looks so peaceful, so vulnerable.

"What do you mean?" I ask Dr. Kumar, my voice low and urgent. "What's going on with him?"

Dr. Kumar's expression is serious. "From what I've observed, Vyom is exhibiting symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. The panic attack, the crying, the emotional distress... it's all indicative of PTSD."

I feel a wave of fear wash over me. PTSD? That's a serious condition. "What can we do?" I ask, feeling a sense of desperation.

Dr. Kumar's face is grim. "He needs to see a psychiatrist, Vikram. ASAP. The level of trauma he's experienced is low, but if left untreated, it can escalate quickly. He could become withdrawn, isolated, and in extreme cases, even suicidal."

I feel like I've been punched in the gut. Suicidal? Vyom? No, no, no. That's not going to happen. Not on my watch.

"What can I do?" I ask again, feeling a sense of determination.

Dr. Kumar nods. "I'll refer him to a good psychiatrist. In the meantime, he needs rest, relaxation, and a safe environment. No stress, no triggers. Just calm and quiet."

I nod, feeling a sense of resolve. I'll do whatever it takes to help Vyom. I'll be his rock, his safe haven. I'll make sure he gets the help he needs, and I'll be there for him every step of the way.

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~ to be continued