The hotel suite had gone quiet—too quiet.
Aarush could hear Noah’s breathing from across the room. Soft. Unsteady. A mix of exhaustion and the kind of emotional bruises that never made it to the tabloids. He watched Noah stand by the window, arms wrapped around himself as if the storm outside somehow seeped into his bones.
The city lights reflected off the glass and painted Noah in gold and shadow. He looked impossibly young in that moment—not a celebrity, not the scandal on everyone’s screen, not the cheeky boy who flirted like it was oxygen.
Just Noah.
Breathing.
Hurting.
Aarush exhaled quietly. “Noah… come here.”
Noah didn’t move at first. “Why?” he whispered, voice fragile in a way Aarush had never heard.
“Because you’re shaking.”
“I’m not—”
But his voice cracked. The lie fel
