Abhinav’s life had always been war. Even in peace, he lived with structure. He woke early, worked out in the cold mornings, spoke little, kept his mind ready for deployment. Gunnu’s world was the opposite—messy, loud, with laughter spilling into the oddest hours.
And yet, he found cracks in his discipline whenever she entered a room.
One morning, Gunnu teased him openly while he stood quietly sipping tea. “Rajput ji, are you practicing to be a statue? If I pinch you, will you even move?” Her cousins laughed loudly. Abhinav didn’t answer. Instead, his stoic gaze lingered on her until her cheeks warmed. For the first time, she faltered under his silence.
Whispers began to spread.
“She’s too childish… how will she run a household?”
“She’s not mature for him.”
“She’ll ruin his serious reputation…”
Gunnu laughed it off because innocence was her shield. But that night, in her room, she curled on her bed, the words echoing: immature, childish.
Abhinav overheard one such remark from an aunt. His jaw clenched, his fists curled. He didn’t speak, but in his soldier heart, a vow formed. If the world tried to shame her sunshine, he would stand as her shield. She didn’t know it yet, but she had already become his to protect
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