COFFEE & COCAINE ( The Unforgotten Bloosm)

The city moved past in a blur outside the tinted glass windows of the black car. Tall buildings blurred into one another, their cold, shimmering surfaces reflecting the soft, dying hues of the afternoon sun. Inside the car, the silence was heavy — only the gentle hum of the engine and the occasional crackle of Sahil's radio filled the space.

Nayan Shrivastava sat motionless, leaning back into the leather seat, his right hand resting over his knee, the other clutching the edge of the seat — tense. A war was waiting ahead. The confrontation with the Italian syndicate would not be diplomatic. But that wasn't what twisted his insides today.

It was her.

Aagartha.

Every breath she had taken while asleep on his chest — he remembered them like hymns.

The car turned a sharp corner, the tyres slicing through the wet street, but Nayan's mind was far from the path they followed. He closed his eyes for a second, and the memory surged — raw, bright, consuming.

---

She had been unconscious, her body trembling from the remnants of trauma. And there she was — head resting against his chest. Fragile. Warm. Real.

And in that instant, the whole world had stopped.

He had held her as if holding onto the last breath of a dying god. As if every war he'd ever fought, every life he'd taken, every sleepless night and silent scream — had only led him here.

To her.

To the moment she slept against him, blindfolded and bruised, yet perfect.

> "What is happening to me?" he had thought, but he already knew the answer.

His chest had swelled with an unfamiliar ache. Not of pain. But of overwhelming peace. Like the kind that chokes you.

> "It felt like I was cradling the moon in my arms."

> "It felt like... maybe my breaths were only made for this moment."

He had looked down at her — the curve of her lips, the flutter of her lashes, the way her breath danced against the collar of his shirt — and for a second, he forgot he was Nayan Shrivastava.

He wasn't the tycoon, the CEO, the cold-blooded strategist. He was a man.

Just a man — alive only because she was in his arms.

He remembered smiling to himself, heart racing.

> "I want to dance like a madman. I want to scream to the stars and tell them — look, she's here. She's finally here."

> "Everything I ever did… everything I endured… was just to reach this moment."

And in that haunting silence, his soul whispered things even his lips dared not speak:

> "No matter how life unfolds — whether sorrow or joy, loss or victory — Let every moment belong to her. With her. From her. Because of her."

His throat had tightened, his eyes misted.

> "Even if she forgets me... even if she never remembers what we once were... let this moment be mine."

He had wanted to tell her the lines — the lines etched into his soul since lifetimes before.

> "First comes love, then passion, then adoration... But you — you are my worship. My pride. My last and only love."

He hadn't said it aloud.

But he had meant every word with the weight of galaxies.

---

The car moved steadily through the heart of the city, nearing the underground chamber where the Italian syndicate had been summoned. Sahil, seated across from him, glanced up — sensing the shift in his master's mood.

Nayan opened his eyes again. Cold. Composed.

But inside, something trembled.

He looked out at the glowing skyline, fingers tightening over his ring.

> "What did she do to me? Why, in that moment, did the world feel... right?"

> "Even with chaos, even with scars... she made it all make sense."

He exhaled slowly.

> "I cradle her like the sky holds the moon — not to possess her, but to honor her light, even from afar."

The memory of her head on his chest lingered — not like a wound, but a melody. A soft rhythm against the hollow places in his soul.

> "I wish she remembered those lines we once shared… back when eternity was ours."

He had whispered them once, in another life maybe.

> "Before love, there is affection… then longing… then devotion…

But you — you are my worship.

You are my pride… my final, only love."

And now, as he neared the building where blood and power awaited, all he wanted… was to go back to that moment.

To hold her again.

Even if just for one second more.

The car halted. The door opened.

He stepped out, a titan once again.

But inside — he was the man who once held the moon.

---