VARUN'S POV:

I had been waiting for Gayathri's birthday for what felt like forever. I wanted to give her something special, something that would make her eyes light up the way I always dreamed of seeing. As I thought about it, my mind wandered back to all the times she talked about wanting a pet—a dog, specifically. Her face would light up whenever she mentioned how much she dreamed of having a dog, but she always ended those conversations with the same note of sadness: her parents wouldn't allow it.

That's when I made my decision. A golden retriever puppy—it was perfect. Something she would love and cherish. I knew this gift would mean more to her than anything else because it was something she had always wanted but never could have. I didn't just want to make her smile; I wanted to give her something she could hold onto, something to bring her joy even when life at home wasn't kind.

Her birthday was in May, and I knew her house would be filled with family, not friends. Her family, strict as they were, didn't allow her much freedom, and she'd never really celebrated with friends before. That's why Sathya and I—my friend, no, more like a brother—decided to go. We weren't just going as guests. We were going because Gayathri deserved to feel surrounded by people who truly cared about her, who knew her beyond the walls her family built around her.

I remembered how, a while back, she had begged us not to come to her house when we suggested doing a group study there. She looked terrified then, and I didn't fully understand why. But this time, I couldn't stay away. I needed to give her this gift myself, to see the happiness in her eyes. I wanted to see her smile in person when I gave her the puppy. Nothing else mattered.

When we arrived at her house, my breath caught in my throat. There she was, standing in front of the cake, wearing a pastel-colored kurta. She looked... breathtaking. The way the soft colors of her outfit highlighted her natural glow made it hard for me to focus on anything else. The kurta flowed gently, accentuating the delicate way she moved, and in that moment, she looked like the embodiment of everything pure and beautiful. Her hair framed her face perfectly, and there was a softness in her expression, a kind of grace that had me mesmerized.

But then, as I looked closer, I noticed something—her eyes. They weren't sparkling with the carefree joy I'd imagined. No, there was something else there, something darker. Fear. It tugged at me, and made me wonder what was wrong. Her eyes—they held something heavy, something I couldn't ignore. Fear. It was as if she was standing there physically, but her heart was miles away, dreading something.

Before I could figure it out, Suddenly, her uncle stormed over, his face twisted in anger. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away, out of sight. My blood boiled instantly, but I forced myself to stay calm. Not here, not now, I thought. After a few minutes, she came back, her face pale, but she forced a smile as if nothing had happened. I could see through it, though—there was a small red mark on her cheek, barely visible, but it was there. I noticed it. I wanted to say something, to ask her, but I didn't. Not now. Not in front of everyone.

The celebration continued. Her family members were crowding around, giving her gifts, but my eyes never left her. Every time I looked at her, I felt myself falling more and more. When it was our turn, Sathya and I walked over to her. The closer I got, the harder it became to hide what I felt. God, she was beautiful, even in this mess. Even when she was hiding so much pain, she still carried herself with such grace. The way she stood there, her eyes still holding that fear but masking it with politeness, stirred something deep inside me.

I placed the small box on the table in front of her. She frowned, confused as the box shook a little. I watched her open it slowly, her delicate fingers lifting the lid. The next moment, her face lit up. That smile... God, that smile. I felt like the entire world stopped. Nothing else mattered in that moment except for her. The way her eyes sparkled with happiness, the way her lips curved into the most beautiful smile I had ever seen—it was everything. In that instant, I knew I'd do anything to see her like this, to keep that smile on her face forever. I would do anything to see that smile again, to keep it on her face forever.

The rest of the room faded away. All I could see was her. My Panda. The tears in her eyes weren't from pain or sadness for once. They were from joy, pure and sweet. And in that moment, I knew. I was gone. Completely lost. I wanted to kiss her, right there, right on her soft cheeks. She looked so innocent, so adorable, so beautiful—like a baby. My baby... My baby.

She turned to me, her voice soft as she thanked me. I barely managed to pull myself back to reality, stepping aside to let Sathya give her his gift. Sathya stepped forward and handed her his gift—two cute coffee cups. She beamed at him too, and it warmed me to see her like this. For once, she wasn't hiding behind the mask her family forced her to wear. She was genuinely happy.

As the celebration wound down and guests began to leave, something gnawed at me. She was avoiding us, or at least it felt that way. She wouldn't glance in our direction again after that moment. she started avoiding our gaze. Not once did she look at me, and that knot in my chest tightened.My gut told me something was wrong, but I pushed the thought away, convincing myself she was just busy with her family and all the attention.

We wished her happy birthday again before we left, and as Sathya and I headed home, I couldn't shake the feeling. As I sat in the car on the way home, my mind was filled with thoughts of her. Her smile, her joy. How could someone be so effortlessly beautiful, so cute, without even trying? Every detail about her was perfect to me, and I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wanted her in my life. I wanted to be the one to make her smile like that every day, to take away whatever fear she was hiding behind those eyes. I kept replaying the evening in my mind. Her smile. The puppy. That mark on her cheek. Why didn't she look at us again? Was she hiding something? But the memory of her smile kept overpowering every doubt. That smile... it was all I could think about.

By the time I reached home and made it to my room, I was lost in thought. I had no memory of the drive or how I ended up in my room.  I laid down on my bed, my mind full of her—Gayathri, my Panda. I imagined what life would be like with her by my side. Our family. I would keep her happy, always. I'd protect her from everything, especially from the monsters in her own home.

With that thought, I closed my eyes, her smile still imprinted in my mind. Sleep took over, but even in my dreams, she was there—her smile, her laugh, her soft brown eyes.

She was my everything. And one day, I would make sure she knew that.