Then she arrived.
He looked at his reflection in the glass. A boy who had been nothing. A man who could become everything. The heat in his chest uncoiled like a sleeping serpent waking to war.
Shiva stared at his own hands. The heat was no longer a shame. It was a destiny.
That night, his palm ignited while he slept. He woke to the smell of singed sheets and the sight of Isha standing in his doorway, eyes wide but unafraid.
Then she arrived.
He looked at his reflection in the glass. A boy who had been nothing. A man who could become everything. The heat in his chest uncoiled like a sleeping serpent waking to war.
Shiva stared at his own hands. The heat was no longer a shame. It was a destiny.
That night, his palm ignited while he slept. He woke to the smell of singed sheets and the sight of Isha standing in his doorway, eyes wide but unafraid.