Mafia's Heartbeat

chapter 14

Guys don't get confused but only for to night Nishant is sleeping with Tanuj
JoohaIsMyPoha pls don't kill komal just yet

The haveli had gone quiet.

The lanterns outside flickered in soft amber hues. Most of the guests had retired. The laughter had dimmed. Even the air felt slower, heavier — after what happened.

Aarav sat alone on the swing in the backyard courtyard, still dressed in his cream kurta. His hands rested in his lap, red and sore where the mehendi had burned. The welts were fading now — ointment had helped — but his heart still ached where Nikhil’s name had once bloomed on his skin.

He didn’t hear the footsteps behind him, soft on marble.

Until he felt a warm touch on his shoulder.

Nikhil (quietly): “Come with me.”

---

He led Aarav to the roof of the haveli — where the stars stretched wide and clear above. A thick white sheet had been spread out on the floor, lined with soft pillows and fairy lights in jars. A small first-aid box sat open. Beside it… lay a bowl of rosewater, a cone of mehendi, and a black marker.

Aarav blinked, heart rising.

Nikhil (soft grin): “You wanted my name on your hands, right?”
Aarav: “I… yes. But—”
Nikhil: “Then give me your hand. I’ve got my own ritual.”

He pulled Aarav gently to sit in his lap, cradling him from behind like he was made of glass. With the marker, he began writing.

On Aarav’s right palm:
“Nikhil” — small, neat, written right across his lifeline.

On the left:
A tiny heart. Inside it, the letter "N" and a lightning bolt.

Aarav (whispers): “What’s the lightning?”
Nikhil (smirking): “For how fast you struck me stupid when I met you.”

Aarav’s laugh was soft — the first real one since the pain.

Then Nikhil leaned forward, pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.

Nikhil (gently): “Mehendi fades. But I’ll write my name on you a hundred times if I have to. Skin. Soul. Wherever you need it.”

Aarav turned slightly, eyes glassy.

Aarav: “Why are you so good to me?”
Nikhil (quietly): “Because I know what it’s like to never feel chosen… and I choose you. Always.”

Aarav curled into his arms, face tucked in Nikhil’s neck. They sat like that under the stars — hands entwined, names redrawn, hearts steady again.

And far below, in another room, Tanuj snuggled against Nishant's chest in sleep, whispering,
Tanuj (half-awake): “Bhai, okay now?”
Nishant (kissing his curls): “Yes, baby. Bhai’s safe. Nikhil fixed it.”

Inside the havali
The clock struck nearly midnight as Kai, Raj, and Kritika sat together in Kritika’s room — all still in their Mehendi outfits, feet bare, hair slightly messy from the day’s chaos.

A tray of half-eaten ladoos lay between them. The fairy lights blinked lazily above.

Raj sat on the floor, hugging a cushion to his chest, quiet.

Raj (softly): “He didn’t even cry loudly. Just… sat there. Like he was ashamed of hurting. That broke me.”
Kai (gently): “Aarav’s always been like that. Silent storm. Keeps his tears for when no one’s watching.”
Raj (nods): “And still tried to comfort Tanuj even while in pain.”