A bold spy working for India's R&AW who was not allowed to love or exist on this earth for people fell in love with a girl.
A girl who itself was sunshine radiating pure innocence and joy. her bright eyes bringing him back from his realm which scare...
The morning was quieter than usual. Ayesha sat on the balcony of her hotel room, a steaming cup of coffee in hand, watching the sun rise over the city. But her thoughts were far from calm. Her encounter with Vikram at the café lingered in her mind. "Woh banda kuch zyada hi secrets rakhta hai," she muttered, frustrated at his evasiveness.
Her phone buzzed. It was a message from Vikram.
"Breakfast? Rooftop. 9 AM."
Ayesha stared at the screen, debating whether to go. Finally, curiosity won. By 9:05, she found herself stepping onto the rooftop terrace. Vikram was already there, leaning against the railing, his face calm but his eyes scanning the surroundings.
"You're late," he teased as she approached.
"Tumhe kabse punctuality ki parwah hone lagi?" Ayesha retorted, taking a seat across from him.
Vikram smirked but didn't reply. Instead, he gestured toward the spread of food. "Order kuch bhi kar lo. They make a mean French toast."
Ayesha raised an eyebrow. "Tumhare jaise banda French toast khaata hai? Mujhe laga tumhe sirf black coffee aur danger pasand hai."
"Danger comes with the job. But breakfast should be enjoyable," he said with a wink.
The banter flowed easily for a while, but Ayesha couldn't shake the questions swirling in her mind. Finally, she decided to confront him.
"Vikram," she began, her tone softer. "Tum itne guarded kyun ho? Har baat ko mazaak mein kyun uda dete ho?"
He looked at her, the teasing glint in his eyes dimming slightly. "Kyunki kabhi-kabhi sach zyada complicated hota hai."
"Complicated toh sab kuch hota hai," Ayesha pressed. "Par kabhi-kabhi... kisi ke saath sach share karne se cheezein asaan bhi ho jaati hain."
For a moment, Vikram seemed to consider her words. Then, he leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Ayesha, tum ek achhi insaan ho. Shayad isi liye main tumse kuch cheezein nahi share kar sakta."
"Kya matlab?" she asked, confused.
"Matlab," he said, leaning forward slightly, "ke kuch sach sirf aur zyada sawaal paida karte hain. Aur main tumhare life mein complications nahi lana chahta."
Ayesha frowned. "Tum yeh decide nahi kar sakte. Mujhe haq hai—"
"Tumhara haq hai khushi ka," Vikram interrupted gently but firmly. "Aur mera kaam yeh ensure karna hai ke tumse woh cheena na jaaye."
The intensity in his voice left her speechless. For a few moments, they sat in silence, the city buzzing softly below them.
Far from the rooftop, Vikram's team was on high alert, stationed strategically around the hotel. The intel they received about a potential threat had them scanning every corner, every shadow. Hidden snipers kept their sights on the surrounding buildings, ensuring no blind spots.
Suddenly, one of the team members, positioned in a high-rise across the street, spotted movement—a glint of light reflecting off metal. "Sniper! Building northeast, third floor," the agent reported through the earpiece.
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