“Prime Minister Rudra Pratap Singh,” your friend began, offering an introduction, oblivious to the tension in the air. “We just wanted to say hi—” But Rudra’s attention was solely on you, his voice a deep rumble as he cut her off. "You're here," he said, his tone more of an observation than a question.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze. He was your dead boyfriends twin Rudra. The quite one. "I didn’t expect to see you here."

Rudra’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite read. You haven't seen him even at the funeral of Rohit "Nor did I expect to see you... with them." His eyes briefly shifted toward your friends before returning to you, the unspoken words hanging heavily between you both. Rudra leaned back on the sofa just slightly. All the old feelings that he suppressed for the sake of his brother came rushing back. His voice dropping to whisper, meant only for his ears.