Love in the air by Vatsal Bhargava - HTML preview

CHAPTER 6 – EYES THAT LIED

The morning air was crisp, but Meera's heart burned with confusion. She stood at the rooftop's edge, staring over the silver skyline of Paris, Aarav's jacket draped around her shoulders like a memory.

Behind her, Aarav stirred, the tension between them palpable. "Last night was a mistake," Meera whispered, the words choking her. Aarav walked toward her, the wind tousling his dark hair. His eyes — once her safe haven — now held storms she could no longer decipher.

"Don't say that," he said hoarsely. "Don't ever say that."

But somewhere deep inside, Meera knew: the eyes that once promised love now hid lies darker than the night.

They made their way to an abandoned church Aarav claimed was another "safehouse." The irony wasn't lost on her.

Inside, shadows clung to every corner. Candles flickered weakly against the heavy stone walls, the place reeking of forgotten prayers.

Aarav paced like a caged animal. Meera followed, her voice breaking the silence.

"Who was that woman, Aarav?" His face tightened. "An old ghost."

"A ghost that wants you dead," Meera snapped.

He grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer. "You don't understand the world I've lived in, Meera."

"Then make me understand!" she cried, her voice echoing through the empty halls.

Aarav's hands cupped her face, rough yet desperate.

"I lied to protect you," he said. Meera searched his eyes, begging for the truth. But all she found were locked doors and shadows.

Before she could pull away, his lips crashed against hers — bruising, desperate, raw. She fought him for a moment before surrendering, her anger melting into the fire that only he could ignite.

Their kiss was a battle — of rage, of longing, of betrayal.

Later, tangled in a makeshift bed of coats and blankets, Aarav traced lazy patterns on her bare back. "There are things you don't know," he murmured against her skin. "Things I can't tell you."

Meera closed her eyes, savoring the bittersweet closeness. She wanted to believe him. Needed to. But deep inside, doubt gnawed at her soul.

Outside, a car engine rumbled. Footsteps crunched on gravel. The enemy was near.

They scrambled up, grabbing their things. Aarav led her through a hidden tunnel beneath the church, his grip tight on her hand.

"Trust me," he said, over and over. She wanted to. God, she wanted to. But trust was a fragile thing. And once broken, it could never be whole again. As they emerged into an alley, Meera caught a glimpse of something that shattered her heart:

Aarav slipping a phone from his jacket and texting — in secret. Not to her.

She yanked her hand away. "Who are you texting?"

Aarav’s face froze. "Nobody." Lie.

His eyes lied, even as his lips smiled. The world tilted around Meera. The kisses, the promises, the whispered "I love you"s — how much of it had been real?

Before he could stop her, she turned and ran.

Through the crowded streets, Meera ran like her life depended on it. Maybe it did.

Tears blurred her vision. Memories of Aarav flashed before her — the tender touches, the reckless laughter, the nights tangled in each other's arms. Had it all been a game? She ducked into a small bookstore, crouching behind a dusty shelf. Her heart pounded as footsteps approached.

"Meera," Aarav’s voice called out, soft and pleading. "Don't do this."

But the spell was broken.

He found her easily, kneeling beside her.

"You don't understand," he whispered. "I was trying to save you."

"By lying to me?" she spat. He reached for her, but she flinched. "I am toxic, Meera," he said, voice cracking. "Everyone close to me either dies or disappears. I couldn't risk you becoming one of them." She stared at him, tears streaking her face. In his anguish, he looked so beautiful it hurt.

But beauty meant nothing when it was built on betrayal.

A noise at the door snapped their attention.

Armed men burst in, shouting in French.

Aarav shoved Meera behind him, pulling a gun from his waistband. Shots rang out. Chaos erupted. Books toppled. Glass shattered. Blood stained the ancient wooden floors. Aarav fought like a demon, but there were too many.

In the smoke and screaming, Meera saw something she would never forget: The woman from the café — the one with the sinister smile — standing by the door, watching, waiting.

And in her hand?

A locket. Meera's locket. The one Aarav had given her, swearing it would keep her safe.

It hit her like a punch to the gut. Aarav hadn't just lied.

He'd set her up.

The world blurred around her. Betrayal burned hotter than any bullet. As darkness swallowed her consciousness, Meera heard one last thing — the woman's voice, cold and victorious:

"You were just a pawn, darling." And somewhere in the chaos, Aarav’s tortured scream split the night