Scene – Pratap Singh Mansion, Late Night
The moon hung high, silver light pouring into the room through the half-open curtains. Kiara stood before the mirror, brushing her hair when Yuvaan entered, his tone sharp but laced with concern.
"So, it's true," he said, crossing his arms. "You're actually planning to fast tomorrow?"
Kiara turned, her eyes calm yet defiant. "Yes, I am. It's Karvachauth. Every wife prays for her husband's long life."
Yuvaan scoffed lightly. "Wife, husband, long life… Kiara, I'm not human. I'm a warlock — death doesn't come for me the way it comes for your kind. Your prayers won't make a difference."
Kiara frowned. "Maybe not to you. But to me, it means everything."
He stepped closer, frustration flickering in his crimson-rimmed eyes. "You don't get it — I don't want you weakening yourself for something meaningless. You'll ruin your health."
Kiara's chin lifted. "Meaningless? Was it meaningless when I prayed to Lord Shiva, and you came back from the brink of death? You call yourself a warlock, Yuvaan, but that day — it was faith, not dark magic, that saved you."
Yuvaan hesitated, his gaze softening for a moment — then he masked it with a wry smirk. "You and your stubborn beliefs."
"And you with your arrogance," she shot back.
They stood face to face, silence charged with emotion and unsaid affection.
"Fine," Yuvaan said finally, his voice low. "If you insist on fasting, then I'll make sure you break it before sunset."
Kiara crossed her arms, meeting his gaze fearlessly. "We'll see, Mr. Warlock. If I can't break your ego, I'll at least keep my fast."
Their eyes locked — part challenge, part affection, and part something neither dared name.
The night around them deepened, as if even the shadows leaned in to witness their quiet battle — a mortal woman's faith against a demon's disbelief.
Scene – Pratap Singh Mansion, Early Morning
The first rays of dawn spilled gently through the curtains of the Pratap Singh mansion. The air was fragrant with sandalwood and jasmine, mingling with the soft hum of Chandrika's morning aarti.
Kiara sat before the household temple, draped in a light crimson saree with gold borders. Her hair still damp from an early bath, she lit the diya, closed her eyes, and folded her hands, whispering prayers not only to Lord Shiva but for Yuvaan.
Yuvaan leaned against the staircase railing, arms crossed, silently watching her. Her calmness unsettled him in a way he could not name.
Chandrika entered, beaming. "Kiara beta, this is your first Karvachauth. Lord Shiva will bless your bond."
Kiara smiled faintly. "I only want His blessings for Yuvaan's safety, Moti Baa."
Before Chandrika could respond, Yuvaan's voice cut through. "Safety? For me? You might as well pray that fire doesn't burn."
Chandrika frowned. "Yuvaan, don't mock tradition."
He shook his head. "I'm not mocking it, Moti Baa. I just don't want her risking her health for me. She shouldn't faint again in this heat."
Kiara turned to him, eyes calm yet piercing. "Maybe you don't need protection, Yuvaan. But this is about my devotion."
Yuvaan's expression tightened. "Faith won't keep you hydrated. You'll tire yourself out."
Kiara's voice remained steady. "You can fight death, Yuvaan, but not my devotion."
Silence filled the room. Yuvaan looked away, muttering, "You're impossible."
Kiara smiled faintly and returned to her prayers, resolute. Yuvaan left, torn between his stubbornness and concern for her well-being.
---
Scene – Mansion Courtyard, Late Morning
The women of the family decorated the courtyard with rangoli and silver lanterns. Vinod read the newspaper lazily, while Bhoomi, mentally unstable, wandered nearby, talking to herself and imagining scenes of Kiara and Yuvaan together.
Yuvaan stood by the window upstairs, watching Kiara. Her strength and serenity captivated him, making him feel both protective and helpless.
He spoke under his breath, "If she feels dizzy today, I won't let her continue this fast alone."
As Kiara looked up briefly, smiling unknowingly in his direction, Yuvaan's frustration melted into quiet admiration. Faith, it seemed, could be as powerful as magic itself.
Scene – Pratap Singh Mansion, Midday
The sun blazed outside, but inside the Pratap Singh mansion, the aroma of fresh food filled the air. Yuvaan stood near the dining table, a plate of delicacies in his hands, savoring each bite with deliberate slowness.
"Kiara," he called, holding out a piece of jalebi, his tone teasing, "you have to taste this. It's too delicious to resist."
Kiara, seated nearby, kept her hands folded in prayer, her eyes unwavering. "Yuvaan… I won't break my fast," she said firmly.
He grinned, walking closer, letting the sweet aroma waft near her face. "Come on, just one bite. Think of it as… a little indulgence for your beloved."
She shook her head, lips pressed tightly. "I promised. I will fast for you. This is for your long life, and I won't waver."
Yuvaan chuckled, amused and frustrated all at once. "You really are impossible," he murmured, placing the plate back but keeping his eyes locked on hers.
Kiara's gaze held firm, a quiet defiance in her stance. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, a small victorious smile, and Yuvaan realized that her devotion wasn't just piousness — it was a strength he hadn't expected.
He sat beside her, not offering the food this time, but simply watching her, silently acknowledging her resolve. The room was filled with unspoken emotions — affection, admiration, and a tension neither wanted to break.
Yuvaan leaned back, pretending to take another bite but keeping one eye on her. "I should have known… nothing tempts you when you've set your mind," he said softly.
Kiara blushed but kept her gaze downward, satisfied in her silent victory.