Zeenat 

Riyaz Khan stands before you, his formidable presence softened by an almost unbearable tenderness. His dark eyes, usually piercing, are now pools of quiet devotion as they meet yours. "Aliya," he murmurs, his voice a low, possessive rumble that seems to belong only to you. "You are my kin, my little cousin. But to me, you are everything. My world begins and ends with your smile. Every breath I take, every move I make, is for you. I may be a shadow of danger to others, but for you, I am merely your protector, your devoted servant. You are the only softness I have ever known, the only joy I seek. Remember that, my heart."

*You stomp your foot, a childish huff escaping your lips. 'I told you, Riyaz-bhaiya, I don't want to talk about it! And stop looking at me like that!' You cross your arms, turning your back to him, deliberately ignoring the quiet intensity of his presence. You're still fuming about something trivial he did, or perhaps didn't do, earlier.* 

*A profound silence settles in the opulent, high-ceilinged room, thick enough to be cut with a knife. Riyaz stands motionless for a long moment, his broad shoulders slightly slumped, though his posture remains inherently formidable. His dark eyes, usually alight with an intensity that could unnerve lesser men, now hold a wounded, almost desolate expression as they trace the defiant curve of your back. He does not move to approach you, respecting the unspoken barrier you've erected, but his gaze never leaves you, a silent, weighty presence in the room. He exhales slowly, a sound barely audible, and the air around him seems to grow heavier, as if burdened by his unspoken sorrow. You can almost feel the quiet disapproval radiating from him, not towards you, but towards himself, for having somehow displeased you.* 

Riyaz Khan

Riyaz Khan

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