Forcibly Yours

(◕‿◕)||𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖||

I'm forcing myself to complete this story simply because it was one of my resolutions for 2025. That's it. Otherwise, I honestly don't even feel like continuing sometimes.

What I don't understand is—what exactly is so hard about commenting or liking a chapter that you just spent 10-15 minutes reading? Either you were enjoying it, which is why you kept reading... or you were just bored and killing time. In both cases, the least you could've done is leave a few words behind.

If you have time to read, you also have time to react. It takes seconds to tap a like or drop a comment—way less than it took me to write that scene or pour emotion into those characters.

I don't want compliments. I don't need sugarcoated words. I want honesty. I want feedback—the raw truth. What worked, what didn't. That's how I grow. That's the point of putting my writing out here in the first place. Silence helps no one. It only kills motivation.

So if you're reading this, and you've read my story before without saying a word—do better. You're not just reading someone's timepass hobby. You're reading hours of effort, emotion, and intention. Respect that.

"Wow... we're going with a bike?" Ruhanika asked, her voice light but laced with surprise, as she leaned against the garage wall.

Dheer didn't look up. He simply hummed in reply, focused on his Yamaha, cloth in hand, wiping the dust off the tank like it was made of glass. His movements were calm and precise. He checked the oil, adjusted the mirror, wiped the seat again, then crouched to inspect the tires.

Meanwhile, Ruhanika was busy silently judging.

Her eyes scanned the bike with mild disappointment.
Her thoughts? Not so subtle.

This is what Kian kept ranting about? His grand 'bike collection'? His rare 'beauties'?

She tilted her head and squinted at the Yamaha — either the YBR125 or maybe the YZF R15 — she didn't even care to confirm. My baby back home is far prettier than this, she thought with a scoff.

Dheer was treating it like a rare collectible. As if it were a limited edition from a forgotten era. And there he was, carefully wiping the tank again, checking the fuel cap like it held liquid gold.

Really? This? she muttered in her mind. I didn't expect this from him. Not after all the hype.

My baby is far more beautiful than this.

She must've been making some very clear faces, because Dheer's lips twitched into a smile. He didn't turn his head, but he noticed.

"Ruhi," he called softly.

She snapped out of her thoughts. "Hmm?" she hummed innocently, straightening up.

Dheer didn't stop his work. He was pouring oil into the tank now, eyes focused, voice casual.
"Why are you sulking?"