The next morning, Jaipur stirred awake in muted gold. Sunlight slipped past the sheer curtains of Devraj’s flat, painting faint streaks across the floorboards. The air was heavy with that quiet stillness that follows a storm. The kind where silence says more than words ever could.

Aksh stirred on the bed, lids reluctant to lift. When they finally did, he pushed himself up, running a sluggish hand through his hair, shoulders weighted with a heaviness that hadn’t lessened with rest. Half-asleep, he shuffled toward the bathroom door, feet dragging slightly against the cool floor. He pushed it open and stepped inside, wincing at the sight that greeted him in the mirror.