A few days had passed since that night on the ridge, and a comfortable, unspoken rhythm had settled between them. Gungun had officially moved her things into Aarav’s apartment. Every evening, the transition from the professional, composed version of Aarav at the office to the soft, fiercely devoted man behind closed doors made her heart swell.

He was incredibly mindful of her. Because he had a lifelong habit of sleeping shirtless, he had explicitly sat her down on the first night and asked if she was entirely comfortable with it. Gungun had only laughed softly, telling him it was his house and she didn't mind at all. In reality, seeing the broad, solid expanse of his shoulders didn't make her nervous; it made her feel protected.