Chapter 58 – When Love Becomes Care

College days had turned into a private festival for Veeresh and Poornima. To the outside world, they were colleagues—nothing more. But behind the veil, every moment was stolen, secret, and sweet.

In the staffroom, he would drop whispered lines that only she could hear. A brush of his hand when no one noticed. A teasing smirk across the classroom. At night, either she would sneak into his penthouse, or he would climb the stairs of her house like a lovesick teenager, only to fall asleep with her in his arms. Their world was a rhythm—flirt, hide, meet, love, repeat.

But that day, something changed.

Poornima’s phone buzzed during the late afternoon. A single message from Veeresh:

Come home right now.

Her heart skipped. She immediately called him, worry flooding her voice.

“What happened, Veer?”

His voice came rough, tired. “Headache… just come.”

Without a second thought, she excused herself from everything and went straight to his penthouse.

The moment she entered, she found him sitting on the couch, one hand pressed to his temple, his shirt crumpled. The strong, unshakable Veeresh looked… fragile.

“Veeresh…” she whispered, rushing to him.

He looked up, eyes heavy, but the sight of her softened the edge of his pain. “You came.”

“Of course,” she said firmly, kneeling in front of him. “Who else will take care of you?”

She went into the kitchen, quickly made ginger tea, and brought the medicine box. Sitting beside him, she pressed the tablets into his hand and held the cup for him. He obeyed quietly, almost childlike.

Once he finished, instead of leaning back, Veeresh suddenly tugged her wrist. With one swift pull, he made her fall back onto the couch, his body slumping against hers.

“Veer…” she gasped, trying to move, but he wrapped his arms around her tighter, his weight heavy on her chest.

“I don’t care,” he murmured against her neck. “Just stay. Don’t go anywhere tonight.”

Her heart melted. She stroked his hair gently, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. “I won’t go. Rest, Veer. I’m here.”

His breathing steadied, his grip still firm on her waist as if afraid she would disappear. She let herself remain pinned under him, feeling his warmth, his need, his vulnerability.

Slowly, her eyes closed too. And in that quiet night, the great Professor Raj, the man of missions and strategies, slept like a child in the arms of the only woman who could soothe him.