The paediatrics ward had finally gone quiet.
The cartoon stickers on the walls looked tired, the lights were dimmed, and only one room still had its fairy lights on.
Swara pushed the door open with her back, holding a sleepy little boy in her arms.
"Arre Arjun, last story, okay?" she whispered. "Superhero doctor saves the day, then hero goes so jao, warna injection (go to sleep or you get an injection)."
Arjun giggled, clinging to her coat.
"You won't give me injection, Swara didi. You love me."
She sighed dramatically. "Exactly. That's why I'll give your Papa injection for not taking his BP medicine, okay?"
She tucked him in, kissed his forehead, and turned off the side lamp.
The moment she stepped into the corridor and pulled the door shut, she collided with something solid, expensive, and annoyingly good-smelling.
His chest.
Sanskar.
Her fake boyfriend.
Her real headache.
His hand shot out, gripping her waist automatically to steady her.
"Careful," he murmured, voice low. "If you fall for me in the corridor, people will say I pushed you."
She scowled. "First of all, I'm not falling for you. Second, why are you leaning on my paediatrics wall like some... catalogue model with emotional damage?"
He didn't move his hand.
"I was waiting." His eyes slid over her face, slow. "For my girlfriend. Who is very busy loving everyone except me."
Swara slapped his hand away and took a step back.
"Don't call me your girlfriend in that tone," she said. "You sound like you're about to commit a crime."
He laughed softly. "Sweetheart, if I commit a crime, it won't be saying you're my girlfriend."
There was something in the way he said it that made her heartbeat trip for half a second.
She rolled her eyes to cover it.
"Why are you even here?" she hissed. "It's 11 pm. Normal fake boyfriends go home."
Sanskar tilted his head, watching her. "Normal fake boyfriends don't exist. And real ones would be here too, after seeing you work yourself to death."
He straightened from the wall, sliding his hands into his pockets.
"I had a meeting nearby," he lied smoothly. "Thought I'd pick you up. Take you home. Feed you. Make sure you sleep more than three hours."
She squinted. Swara had no idea that his "meeting" actually meant finalising a deal that made half the city's underground bow to him. She just knew he always looked like he owned every hallway he walked through.
"You don't have to play the role all the time, you know," she said. "Yeh fake relationship sirf meri family ke liye hai (this fake relationship is only for my family). You can rest."
He smiled slowly. "Funny. I don't feel like I'm acting."
Her stomach flipped.
"Stop saying things like that," she muttered.
"Like what?"
"Like... that."
"Specific," he teased. "You're a doctor, Swara. Diagnose the problem properly."
She folded her arms. "The problem is, you flirt like there's a cash prize."
He stepped closer, closing the distance until her back almost brushed the wall.
The empty corridor, the late hour, his cologne — everything suddenly felt too intense.
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CHAOTIC HEARTS & OBSESSIVE SINS ✔️
عاطفيّةSwara - the chaotic doctor with a fragile core Paediatric doctor who runs on instinct, empathy and too much caffeine; her notes are messy but her diagnosis is razor‑sharp. Talks fast, feels deeply, rushes into danger before thinking-but unravels qui...
