Author's POV:
From that day on, something shifted.
Y/N stopped arguing with him.
No more petty comebacks.
No more playful eye-rolls or sarcastic teasing.
Their conversations turned short. Dry.
Just enough to get the work done, nothing more.
"Here's the schedule."
"I already sent the email."
"Your coffee's on the table."
And Rabin noticed it.
He didn't say anything—at least, not directly.
But he felt it.
The silence between them grew heavier each day.
She didn't hover anymore.
She didn't lecture him when he left his scripts scattered everywhere.
She didn't stay late in the dressing room just to complain about how he ate junk for dinner again.
She distanced herself.
And he didn't know why that suddenly bothered him so much.
It's been a month.
A month of her cold politeness.
A month without that fire in her eyes.
And yet, even in the quiet—he kept looking.
Waiting for something.
Anything.
But Y/N?
She was just trying to survive.
Trying to protect what was left of her plan.
What was left of herself.
Even the schedule turned ruthless.
Back-to-back shoots.
Brand meetings.
Late-night script readings.
Commercials. Interviews. Endless retakes.
Rabin barely had time to breathe, let alone notice how much things had changed between them.
Or maybe—he did notice.
But he didn't have the luxury to stop and feel it.
Y/N remained professional.
Always on time.
Always two steps ahead.
But never close.
They shared the same space, same car, same schedule— But somehow, they felt like strangers passing by.
No more sarcastic remarks from her.
No more teasing smirks from him.
Just silence filled with everything unspoken.
He didn't ask why.
She didn't explain.
They both let time do the talking—
Or maybe… he were just scared of what might come out if he did.
After a brutally hectic month, the agency finally granted a 3-day break.
Just three days—but it felt like breathing after drowning.
Y/N used that time to finish what needed to be done…Pick up the finalized script for Rabin's upcoming web series. Ten thick copies—each heavier than the last.
By evening, she found herself in front of his apartment again.
Routine. Mechanical.
Drop the scripts and leave.
Just like she's been doing—clean and distant.
She entered using the spare code, expecting the usual faint music or TV hum.
But this time—
Silence.
Unnerving, heavy silence.
She set the scripts down on the side table and glanced around.
No sign of movement.
His shoes were at the door, his phone left charging on the counter.
Her brows furrowed.
Quietly, she stepped toward the hallway and stopped outside his bedroom door.
Knock knock.
"Hey… I came to drop the script."
Silence.
"You hear me?" she asked again, this time louder.
Still nothing.
Something in her gut twisted.
She hesitated—then turned the knob.
The door creaked open slowly, revealing Rabin lying on his bed, tangled in his sheets. His face drenched in sweat, his brows furrowed tight, lips muttering incomprehensible words.
His fingers twitched. His chest rose and fell unevenly.
He's dreaming.
No—he's struggling.
"Rabin…?" her voice softened, unsure.
She moved closer, the air heavy with concern now.
"Sorry ..I'm sorry…"
His voice broke out in his sleep, cracked and low.
Her heart dropped.
He wasn't just sleeping—
He was haunted.
Something in his dreams was tearing him apart.
Without thinking twice, Y/N rushed to his side.
"Rabin…" she whispered, brushing the damp strands of hair from his forehead.
His skin was clammy, drenched in sweat, his breathing still uneven.
She cupped his face gently, her thumb wiping the sweat from under his eye.
"Hey… what happened?"
"Rabin?" she repeated, her voice softer now, laced with worry.
Then—
Suddenly—his eyes flew open.
Bloodshot. Lost.
Like he didn't recognize where he was—like he didn't recognize her.
But in the next second, he sat up abruptly—
and without warning, pulled her into his arms.
Tightly.
Desperately.
Like he needed to know she was real.
Like he'd just crawled back from a place darker than night.
Y/N froze.
Just for a moment.
Then her hands instinctively lifted, resting lightly on his back.
She could feel it—
The way his shoulders trembled.
The way his chest heaved like he'd just run miles through fear.
He didn't say a word.
He didn't need to.
Whatever haunted him…
It had cracked the version of Rabin the world knew.
And in that moment—
He wasn't the icon.
Not the actor.
Not the arrogant boss.
He was just Rabin.
A man holding on to the only person who felt like safety.
Y/N stiffened in his arms, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice.
"Ahh—if you're awake, I'll just bring some water for you—" she said, trying to gently pull away, heart pounding a little too fast.
But Rabin didn't let go.
"Don't go."
His voice cracked, barely a whisper.
"Don't… leave me."
Her breath hitched.
Huh? she blinked, unsure if she heard that right.
But then—she felt it.
His arms around her, holding tighter.
His face buried in the crook of her shoulder.
His eyes shut again—not in sleep, but in something else.
Something that looked a lot like pain.
Y/N stood there, frozen in his embrace.
The Rabin she knew—sharp-tongued, confident, untouchable—was nowhere to be seen.
This wasn't him on screen.
This wasn't an act.
This was real.
And maybe…
Just maybe…
She was the only one seeing it.
Rabin's POV:
It's been a while since the nightmares stopped.
I thought I had escaped them… or maybe I just got used to the silence…But last night— It came back.
Vivid. Violent…But something was different.
This time, I saw her.
The same shadows. The same screams.. the same dress... But now, there was a face.
Blurry… fading in and out like a broken frame. And yet—my chest tightened.
Because even through the haze, I recognized it.
It was Y/N.
How?Why?She was never a part of those memories. She couldn't be… or did i miss her that much .. tch naahh …
But my mind—
My fucked up mind is trying to place her there.And that scared me more than the nightmare itself…
"Rabin…"
She called my name—softly. Almost like a whisper.
That's when I realised…I'm holding her.
Too tightly…There's no space between us—none.
Shit!! I froze..
She's shocked. I can feel it in the stiffness of her body, the way her breath catches against my chest.
And me? I'm shocked too.
What the hell am I doing?
Argghhh—how do I even pull away now?
If I do, what do I say? Oops? Sorry? Bad dream?
Lame.
Should I avoid her eyes? Pretend like this didn't happen? Or… should I look?
Really look into those eyes?
Because despite everything—
I want to.
I want to see those eyes again even if they're filled with confusion.
Even if they're scared…Even if they never look at me the same way again.
Y/N's POV:
"Rabin…"
I called him softly.
He didn't move…Not even a twitch.
So I gently pulled myself away from the hug.
My eyes landed on his face—drenched in sweat. His brows still furrowed like he hadn't fully left whatever nightmare had just gripped him.
Without thinking, I took out my handkerchief and started wiping his face.
He just… stared at me.
His eyes weren't cold this time. Just tired. Maybe a little scared.
"I'm sorry I shocked you," he said, voice low.
"What happened?" I asked gently.
"Just a bad dream."
"Oh," I replied simply…Because what else could I say? I stood up from the bed, wanting to give him space—but then…
He grabbed my wrist.
Not tight…Not forceful, Just… enough.
I looked down at his hand, then up at him.
His grip slowly loosened.
But he didn't let go.
And I— I couldn't bring myself to say anything.
So I just stood there…Watching him.
Waiting
Not sure if he needed to speak… or just didn't want to be alone.
Until—
"Ahh… what's my schedule today?" he asked, voice still rough from sleep. Or maybe from whatever that dream was.
"It's your week off. You can rest," I replied gently. "I'm just here to drop off your web series script."
"Oh…" he murmured.
Quiet again.
"It's on the living room table. You can check it when you're free."
He nodded slowly. "Umm… so, are you going somewhere?"
"Yes. Personal work," I said, trying to keep it short.
"Ohh…"
That one word again. But this time it carried something heavier. I gave him a slight nod, then turned around and walked out.
No looking back.
Even though I could feel his eyes on me.
As soon as I stepped outside, my heart started racing, thumping so loud I thought people could hear it.
I swooshed out of the apartment building as fast as I could and made my way to the nearest bus stop.
Yes, I had a plan.
Yes, I needed space.
And right now…
I just wanted to go home.
Because I needed a break—from all of it.
From him.
I sat at the bus stop, quietly waiting.
The air was still, and my heart had just started to settle when—
Riiinggg..
Caller ID: DEVIL BOSS
I sighed, already bracing myself.
Of course.
I answered.
"Yes?" I said, trying to sound neutral.
"Where are you now?"
His voice was sharp. Awake. Alert.
"I'm on the way to somewhere… what happened?"
"Stay right there! Send me your location."
"What? Why? Aren't you supposed to be resting?"
"Fast!!" he barked—and cut the call before I could argue.
I blinked at my phone.
My brain? Not processing.
At. All.
Still… I sent him the location.
I don't even know why.
Muscle memory maybe..
My bus arrived—doors opening with a soft hiss and I just stood there.
Watching it…
My chest ached as it pulled away without me.
There goes my plan ..Once again…
The devil ruined it…And I let him.
After a few minutes, the loud screech of tires pulled me out of my daze.
A sleek black Porsche stopped right in front of me, dramatic as ever.
Of course. He would make an entrance.
I stood up and walked toward the car.
The window rolled down slowly—like in one of his damn movies.
"Get inside," Rabin said coolly.
Huh?!
I blinked. That's it?
He raised an eyebrow.
"Do you want me to roll out the red carpet and open the door for you?"
I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly fell out.
Without another word, I got inside the beast.
"Okay. So what the hell is happening?" I snapped, buckling my seatbelt.
He didn't even look at me. His jaw was clenched, eyes fixed on the road.
"Is your phone out of network or what? Can't you see what's happening on social media?"
That made me pause.
I grabbed my phone, opened my app, and logged in.
My screen was instantly flooded with posts, comments, tags—
And then I saw it.