Varun's POV

After everything that had happened with my panda's family, I knew one thing for certain: I needed power. Power to protect her, to control the people who dared to hurt her, and to make sure no one would ever harm her again. My father was the key to that.

My father, ABHINAV.

(ahhhhhhhh.........my fav character)

He was a man of immense influence, not just because of the wealth that surrounded him, but because of the fear he instilled in others. An underworld kingpin—respected, feared, and untouchable. Joining him was my way of gaining the power I needed. I had resisted being part of his world for so long, but for Gayathri, I was willing to do anything. If it meant ensuring her safety, I would embrace the darkness my father offered.

And then there was another reason—one I hadn't fully acknowledged until now.

Every time Panda spoke about the fictional men in the books she read, my chest tightened. The way her eyes lit up, the way she got lost in her stories... It always made me uneasy, angry even. She didn't realize it, but every time she gushed about some made-up hero, I felt this surge of jealousy that I couldn't shake.

Why should she admire someone who doesn't even exist?

hufffff.......pout 

It drove me crazy. And I hated how much I wanted to shut her up in those moments—not with anger, but with passion. I wanted to stop her from talking about these fictional characters by smashing my lips against hers, to make her understand that her love belonged only to me. No one else—not even in her imagination—had the right to her admiration, to her affection. Not even another woman. She could only lay her eyes on me.

I'd always listened quietly as she shared her love for these characters, nodding along even though it burned me up inside. But now I realized something. Maybe the answer wasn't just to be jealous. Maybe I had to become the man she dreamed about.

If she loves these fictional heroes so much, then why can't I be the one she falls in love with?

That was the key. I had to be that man—the one who could protect her, the one who made her feel safe, the one who commanded power and strength. If that's what it took to win her heart, I would do it. I would become the hero in her story, the one she would never be able to resist.

The thought made me smirk, determination settling deep in my bones. I was done watching her suffer, done feeling jealous over fictional men. I would step into the role myself. Power, love, control—it was all within my reach.

And soon, MY PANDA  would see it too. She'd see that I'm not just someone who's there for her. I'm the one she needs, the only one worthy of her love.

FLASHBACK:

It's stupid, really, the way I feel every time Panda starts talking about her books. I know they're just stories, made-up nonsense, but when she talks about those fictional men like they're the greatest thing in the world, I swear it drives me mad.

Take that one time, she was telling me about some knight—Sir Whats-His-Name—and how brave he was. She went on and on about how he rescued the princess, how noble he was, and how he risked his life for her without a second thought.

"Isn't that amazing, Varun? A man willing to risk everything for the woman he loves!" she had said, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

I nodded, trying to keep my cool, but inside? I was seething. Yeah, okay, Sir Lancelot, but how's he gonna help you when your family's making your life a living hell, huh? I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue. How could she be so fascinated by a guy who doesn't even exist? I was right there, willing to do whatever it took for her, and she was swooning over some dude in armor. Ridiculous.

Then there was that other guy she loved to talk about. Some billionaire CEO with a dark past who falls in love with a simple girl—because apparently, that was the epitome of romance in her eyes.

"He's just so mysterious, Varun," she had said, her cheeks slightly flushed as she talked about the brooding fictional character. "The way he hides his emotions but deep down, he's vulnerable. It's just...so romantic!"

Yeah, sure, I thought, so much that he can't even exist outside the pages of a paperback.

It wasn't just jealousy; it was like I was competing with her imagination. Every time she talked about these fictional heroes, I felt this ridiculous urge to top them. Like, I once found myself thinking, Should I rent a horse and ride up to her house in armor to get her attention? But then I realized I'd probably fall off the horse before I even got there.

One time, she was gushing about a detective—some guy who solves every crime, no matter how impossible it seems. She was going on about how smart he was, how he always knew what to do.

I couldn't help it. I blurted out, "Yeah, well, can he help you figure out your math homework? 'Cause last time I checked, you still needed me for that."

She looked at me, confused for a second, then burst out laughing. "Oh, Varun, you're so silly."

Silly? I was trying to make a point! But no, she just thought I was being funny. Meanwhile, I'm sitting there silently plotting how to become a detective just to prove I'm better than some guy in a mystery novel.

And don't even get me started on the time she was fangirling over some superhero. "He's just so...powerful," she had sighed dreamily. "He saves the world and protects the people he loves."

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they'd get stuck. Great. Now I have to compete with a dude who can fly and shoot lasers out of his eyes.

Another time, she couldn't stop talking about a romantic comedy where the male lead was a total dork who somehow landed the girl of his dreams. "He's so charming and funny!" she gushed, her eyes sparkling with delight.

I tried to keep a straight face, but inside, I was losing it. Why couldn't she see how charming and funny I was? I was practically a walking punchline! "So you're saying you want a guy who trips over his own feet?" I asked, trying to keep the mood light.

"Yes!" she replied, laughing. "But only if he trips into my heart!"

At that moment, I felt a pang of jealousy. What was wrong with me? Why was I competing with fictional guys?

Now, here I was, sitting in class, trying not to scream while she waxed poetic about Zade Meadows. The mere thought of Zade being all brooding and intense made my blood boil.

I could barely focus in class. Every time Panda opened her mouth to talk about another fictional character, I felt a little piece of my sanity slip away. Like the day she started raving about Zade Meadows from Haunting Adrenaline.

"Varun, he's just the perfect guy! He's mysterious, intense, and oh my gosh, the way he loves... it's just so passionate!" She practically swooned, her eyes sparkling as she described him.

I clenched my fists under the desk, trying not to let my irritation show. Passionate? What did that even mean? Did he bring her coffee in the morning and whisper sweet nothings? Or did he just look brooding while saving the world from some evil overlord? I rolled my eyes, fighting the urge to let my jealousy spill over.

"Sure, Gayathri, but I bet he doesn't even know how to play a video game," I retorted, trying to keep the banter light.

She laughed, completely missing the sting of my words. "Well, he's not supposed to! But you know what he's a Hacker. It's all about the mystery! You wouldn't understand!"

You're right, I thought because I'm busy being jealous of a fictional character.

When she started telling me how Zade had this mysterious backstory and a tragic past, I felt like someone had punched me in the gut. Mysterious? Tragic? I wanted to shout, Have you met me? I have my own tragic story—like the time I lost my favorite video game because I forgot to save my progress.

After a day filled with jealousy, I decided I had to see what all the fuss was about. I ordered Haunting Adrenaline even though I typically read psychological thrillers and scholarly books. But if it meant understanding what made her light up like a Christmas tree, then fine. I could suffer through it. I needed to understand what was so special about Zade. Maybe if I knew, I could compete.

When the book arrived, I settled into my room, fully prepared for the onslaught of "romance." But what I encountered was a completely different beast. I read line after line, and my jaw dropped.

Once I started reading, my expectations were quickly shattered. I had expected romance and sweet confessions, not twisted plot lines and intense dark scenes. By the end, I was left traumatized and questioning everything.

This is dark romance???

He blinked...trying to process the things in his mind.

 I never knew my panda had such an appetite for the twisted and torrid. I could feel my cheeks heat up, transforming into a ripe tomato as I got deeper into the chapters.

So this is what she's into? I thought. Does my sweet panda have a dark side? The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and I couldn't help but blush furiously, my face feeling like it was on fire.

I recalled her casually mentioning wanting to experience "those kinds of things" with her partner one day, and I smiled, thinking it was just about normal romance. I had thought she meant candlelit dinners and maybe some cheesy dance moves—boy, was I wrong! I facepalmed, muttering to myself,

 "Ahhh... so my panda has this dark side too. I thought my panda was innocent. Naughty girl."

 Now, the embarrassment washed over me like a wave. "Oh man, my poor innocent panda, you're not as innocent as I thought," I mumbled to myself, shaking my head in disbelief.

I facepalmed and chuckled at my predicament. What have I gotten myself into?

After a long day filled with too many emotions, I closed the book, still feeling the embarrassment wash over me. How was I supposed to look her in the eye after this? My best friend had a hidden layer of allure that I had never imagined. All the teasing about characters like Zade made sense now; she wasn't just infatuated with him for his brooding looks—she was captivated by the whole thrilling vibe.

I placed the book back on my shelf, a mix of admiration and dread swirling within me. I decided I'd have to take a cold shower to cool off.

As I stepped into the bathroom, I couldn't shake off the feeling that I'd need to step up my game. I was going to become the hero in her story, whether she liked it or not. I took a long shower, attempting to wash away my embarrassment and sort through my jumbled emotions.

The more I listened to her talk about these men, the more I realized—I wasn't just jealous. I was determined. Determined to become everything she admired in them. Not that I'm gonna start wearing a cape or anything, but...if it means winning her heart, I'll figure out how to be her knight, her billionaire, her detective, and her superhero.

Because at the end of the day, no fictional guy could love her as much as I do. And when she finally realizes that? Well, those paperback heroes won't stand a chance.

How can I be jealous of a fictional character and feel like a fool for not realizing the depths of my panda's taste in literature? I chuckled to myself, shaking my head. I couldn't let her know how much her words affected me. If I did, I'd ruin our friendship, and that was the last thing I wanted.

That night, I crawled into bed, still blushing. The thought of my panda and her dark romance left me feeling both amused and intrigued. I made a mental note: if she ever wanted to experience "those things" in real life, I'd have to be the one to guide her. Who knew what kind of trouble that would lead to?

As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn't help but smile, a mix of excitement and uncertainty swirling within me...

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