ππππ ππππππππ (π«πππ #1)
ππΌπΌπΈ πΌπ»π² πΌπ³ π πππ‘ π§ππ₯π ππππͺππ‘π ππππ πππππ Siya was built for purpose, her frame curvy and solid, her skin a rich, compelling dusky tone that glowed under the unforgiving Indian sun. Her confidence wasn't practiced; it was an innate spiritual buoyancy. She handled cash, complaints, and compliments with the same easy grace, her eyes sharp and assessing, missing nothing. Her life was an open book, written in bold, optimistic strokes. She was sunshine distilled, a force of nature entirely comfortable in her skin and her place, even as she dreamed of places elsewhere. πππππππ πππππππ Ekaansh Chauhan carried his world with him, and it was a heavy one. He was the definition of controlled containment. At sixteen, his lean, muscular frame was not the result of village labor, but of frantic, disciplined gym work-a physical attempt to outrun the demons that clawed at him in the quiet hours. He was strikingly handsome, certainly, but his beauty was sterile, guarded. His jaw was perpetually clenched, his eyes-deep-set and intense-held the muted, faraway look of someone who had seen too much, too soon.
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