Snow drifted lazily outside the tall windows of Aarush’s ancestral home, soft flakes sticking to the glass like delicate fingerprints left by winter itself. Inside, the warmth from the fireplace filled the living room with a golden glow. Noah sat curled up on the couch, a thick Kashmiri shawl wrapped around him, inhaling the subtle scent of sandalwood that lingered everywhere in the Sen residence.
Aarush had stepped out for a phone call with one of his partners, leaving Noah to gather himself. He still felt raw from the emotional unraveling of the previous night—his confession, his fears, his desire for stability, and how deeply he had fallen for Aarush despite their messy beginning.
A part of him wished he hadn’t said so much.
But a bigger part of him needed Aarush to know all of it.
