Gurvi exhaled, his voice low but firm. "What if I hadn't made it in time, Marinette?" His tired eyes met hers. "What if Gabriel had humiliated you in front of everyone? Thrown you out? What if people had laughed at you, mocked you, on such a prestigious stage?"

Marinette stiffened. She hadn't thought about it that way—not in the way he was seeing it. The thought of being ridiculed, of her dreams being crushed in front of so many people, sent a cold shiver down her spine.

"I—I don't know," she admitted quietly, gripping his hands a little tighter. "It would've hurt… a lot."

"Exactly." Gurvi leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again, his gaze piercing. "I couldn't let that happen to you. I wouldn't let that happen to you."

Her throat tightened. He had thrown himself into danger, taken on twelve armed men with nothing but his sheer willpower, all to protect her dreams.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she bit them back. "But, Gurvi… at what cost?" Her voice cracked. "You were bleeding. You could've—"

"But I didn't," he interrupted gently. "And if I had to do it again, I would."

Her heart clenched. She wanted to be angry, to scold him for always putting himself at risk, but how could she? When his entire being screamed that he would always fight for her, no matter the cost?

She shook her head, pressing her forehead against his again, whispering, "I hate you for doing this to yourself... but I love you more for why you did it."

As Marinette sat there, Gurvinder sleeping peacefully in her arms, her fingers absentmindedly traced the bandages wrapped around his bruised arms. The painkillers had finally eased his exhaustion, allowing him to rest, but her mind refused to be still.

Her thoughts swirled in turmoil.

What if one day…

What if one day, she was forced to choose? Between her dreams, her future, and him.

Gurvinder had thrown himself into danger without hesitation, choosing her over himself, again and again. But if the situation were reversed—if her success, her ambitions, her entire future stood on one side, and he stood on the other… could she do the same?

Would she choose herself over Gurvinder?

She clenched the fabric of his shirt, guilt creeping into her chest. The mere thought of it unsettled her. How could she even consider that possibility? But deep down, she knew it wasn't that simple.

She had fought so hard for her dreams. They weren't just hers; they were a part of her soul, just like Gurvinder was. But would there come a day when she would have to pick between them?

She looked down at him, his face calm in sleep, his breath steady. He had put everything on the line for her tonight—his body, his safety, his pride. Would she be strong enough to do the same for him if it ever came to that?

She didn't know.

And that terrified her.

Marinette picked up her phone, her fingers hesitating over the screen before she finally typed a message to Alya.

Mari: Hey, I need to talk to you—

Before she could even finish, her phone buzzed with an incoming message.

Alya: Girl, I was just about to text you! Are you seeing this?!

Marinette frowned. Seeing what?

Before she could ask, Alya sent a link.

Alya: Gurvi's fight. It's all over the internet.

Marinette's heart stopped for a second. Her breath hitched. What?

She clicked on the link with trembling fingers.

The video loaded, and she felt her stomach twist painfully. The grainy footage showed a dark alleyway, streetlights flickering. Then—Gurvinder, standing alone, the bag strapped tightly across his chest. A group of men—twelve—surrounded him, armed with steel rods.

Then it began.

The way he dodged, the way he took the hits, blocking the brutal swings with his bare arms—her heart ached watching it. His forearms, now wrapped in bandages, had taken the brunt of it. She could see the pain in his stance, in the way he lunged forward despite the overwhelming odds. He didn't back down. He couldn't back down.

For her.

Marinette felt her throat tighten.

The video cut off right as Gurvinder dropped to his knees, panting, before forcing himself to keep moving. The sheer determination in his posture sent a shiver down her spine.

The view count was climbing. The comments were flooding in.

Who is this guy?

That's INSANE.

He took down 12 guys alone?!

Is he even human?!

Somebody tell me who he is, I need to know.

Marinette's grip tightened on the phone. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

Gurvi had no idea this was spreading like wildfire. No idea that his fight, his sacrifice, was now being seen by thousands—maybe millions.

And worst of all… she had no idea what this would mean for him.

Marinette's fingers hovered over the screen before she quickly called Alya. It barely rang twice before Alya picked up.

"Girl, what the heck did I just watch?!" Alya's voice was a mix of excitement and shock. "Twelve armed guys?! And he won?! Is he secretly a superhero or something?!"

Marinette sat on her bed, glancing at Gurvinder sleeping beside her. His arms were bandaged, his face peaceful despite the bruises. She swallowed hard.

"He's not a superhero, Alya," she said quietly. "He's just—he's just Gurvi."

"Well, Gurvi just went viral," Alya replied. "This isn't just some random street fight video, Mari. People are talking. The comments are blowing up. Some are calling him a legend, some think he's a professional fighter, and a few are even trying to find him."

Marinette's heart pounded. "Find him?"

"Yeah," Alya confirmed. "They want to know who he is, where he's from. Some are saying they wanna interview him. Others are talking about MMA organizations scouting him. And a few are just straight-up calling him crazy for taking on twelve guys alone."

Marinette pressed her palm to her forehead. This was bad. Gurvi never fought for attention. He fought to survive. To protect. This wasn't some stunt for fame.

"Alya… what if he doesn't want this?" she whispered. "What if this just makes things worse for him?"

Alya sighed. "I don't know, Mari. But one thing's for sure—he can't stay hidden anymore. Whether he likes it or not, people know now."

Marinette looked at Gurvinder again, sleeping soundly, completely unaware of the storm brewing outside.

And for the first time that night, she wasn't just worried about him.

She was worried about what this world was going to do to him.

Alya's voice softened on the other end. "Mari… what was this about? Why was he fighting twelve guys alone? And why do I feel like you already know the answer?"

Marinette gripped her phone tighter, her gaze still on Gurvinder's sleeping form. Her heart felt heavy. She could lie—say she didn't know much. But Alya was her best friend. And right now, she needed someone to understand.

"He was bringing my dress," she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alya was silent for a moment. Then—"Wait. What?"

Marinette exhaled shakily. "I—I accidentally took the wrong bag. He ran all the way to the competition to bring me the right one. But before he could get there… those men attacked him."

Alya let out a slow, disbelieving breath. "So, you're telling me that this video—this insane fight that's going viral—happened because he was trying to save your competition?"

Marinette swallowed hard. "Yes."

Alya was quiet again. Then, a low, incredulous laugh. "Mari… do you realize what that means?"

Marinette blinked. "What?"

"That boy is crazy in love with you."

Her breath hitched. She knew that. She had felt it every time he put her first, every time he fought, endured, sacrificed—just to see her succeed.

And that's what scared her.

Because love like that… could destroy a person.

And she wasn't sure if she was strong enough to stop it from destroying him.

Marinette's grip on the phone tightened as she whispered harshly, "And that's exactly the problem, Alya."

Alya, taken aback, paused. "What do you mean?"

Marinette's eyes darted to Gurvinder, still asleep, his face peaceful despite the bruises lining his arms. "He keeps doing this—putting himself in danger for me. He keeps thinking that my future is worth more than his own life, and that's not love, Alya. That's—" She stopped herself, swallowing back her emotions.

Alya sighed on the other end. "Mari, I get that you're scared. But don't you see? This is his way of showing love. This is who he is."

"And what if one day it costs him his life?" Marinette snapped. "What if next time, it's not just bruises and bandages?"

Silence.

Marinette wiped at her eyes, her voice trembling now. "I never asked him to fight for me. I never wanted him to suffer for me."

Alya exhaled. "But he chooses to, Mari. He chose you. Just like you're choosing him every single day."

Marinette pressed her lips together, her heart aching. "Then maybe that's the problem."

Alya hesitated. "Mari... are you saying you regret this? Being with him?"

Marinette looked down at Gurvinder again, at his sleeping form, the way his breath was steady, how even in pain, he looked at peace with her.

She closed her eyes. "No. I could never regret him."

"Then what are you afraid of?"

Marinette swallowed hard. "I'm afraid… that one day, loving me will be the reason he loses everything."

Tikki floated silently in the dim room, her tiny form barely visible in the glow of Marinette's phone screen. She had listened to every word—every fear, every doubt. Marinette hadn't noticed her yet, too lost in her thoughts, her fingers gripping the fabric of Gurvinder's sleeve as if afraid he'd disappear.

Finally, Tikki spoke, her voice soft but firm. "Marinette… do you really think you're the reason he keeps fighting?"

Marinette startled slightly, looking up. "Tikki..."

The kwami hovered closer, her blue eyes filled with understanding. "You're not forcing him to do this, Marinette. You're not controlling his choices. He fights because that's who he is. Even if you weren't in the picture, he wouldn't just stand by and do nothing."

Marinette exhaled sharply, frustration and helplessness mixing in her expression. "But what if it kills him one day?"

Tikki landed gently on Marinette's shoulder. "Then stop thinking of it as him throwing his life away. He's not just fighting for you, Marinette. He's fighting with you. You're both choosing each other, aren't you?"

Marinette hesitated, her gaze drifting back to Gurvinder. He had always fought alone. Always taken every battle, every pain, every scar without anyone by his side. But now… now he had her.

Tikki's voice softened. "So the real question is… are you willing to stand by his side, the same way he stands by yours?"

Marinette's grip on her phone tightened as Alya's voice buzzed in her ear. But her mind was elsewhere—stuck on the question Tikki had just asked.

Would she be able to stand by him the same way he stood by her?

Her stomach twisted. She had always admired his strength, his resilience, his ability to keep going no matter how much it hurt. But was she capable of the same? Could she risk herself the way he did for her?

"Mari?" Alya's voice broke through her thoughts. "Girl, are you even listening? This video is crazy! It's all over the internet—people are calling him a beast, a machine, some are even comparing him to MMA fighters! But no one knows why he was fighting!"

Marinette blinked, trying to focus. "What are they saying about him?" she asked quietly.

"Mixed things," Alya admitted. "Some are in awe, some are terrified. People are wondering who he is, where he came from, how he fights like that. But there are also rumors starting… about him being dangerous, about him being involved in underground fights or gangs."*

Marinette felt her heart sink. She looked down at Gurvinder, still asleep, his face finally at peace after everything he had gone through. He didn't deserve this. He had fought for her, for her dreams, and now the world was twisting it into something ugly.

"Alya..." she whispered, "I need you to do something for me."*

"I need you to stop this before it gets worse," Marinette said firmly. "If people start thinking he's dangerous, it could ruin everything for him. He's already been through enough."

Alya hesitated. "Mari, I get it, but this is already spreading fast. You know how the internet works—once something goes viral, it's hard to control."

"Then we have to change the narrative," Marinette insisted. "You're a reporter, Alya. You know how to spin a story. We need people to see him for who he really is, not just some 'fighter' who took down a gang of thugs."

Alya thought for a moment. "We could frame it differently. Like, instead of 'mystery fighter beats up twelve men,' we make it about him protecting someone. If people see him as a protector instead of an aggressor, it'll change the way they talk about him."

"Yes!" Marinette's eyes lit up. "We can say he was just defending himself, that he was running an urgent errand and got ambushed."

"Okay, okay, I'll see what I can do," Alya said. "But Mari…" she hesitated, "this isn't just about the internet, is it? You're scared of what this means for you, too."*

Marinette sucked in a breath. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Alya," she admitted. "He's willing to do anything for me. He puts himself at risk without a second thought. And now… I keep thinking—if it ever comes down to it, could I do the same for him?"

Alya was silent for a moment before she spoke, softer this time. "You love him, don't you?"

Marinette's throat tightened. She glanced at Gurvinder, his bandaged arms resting on the blanket, his face calm despite the pain he must have been in.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I do."*

Marinette exhaled softly, her grip on the phone tightening for a moment before she ended the call. The thoughts swarming her mind were too heavy, too suffocating—she didn't want to think anymore.

She turned her head, looking at Gurvinder. His chest rose and fell steadily, his face calm despite the pain he must have been enduring. The bandages wrapped around his arms were a painful reminder of what he had done for her.

Without another thought, she slid closer, wrapping her arms around him gently, as if anchoring him to her. Her fingers curled into his shirt, holding him as if he might disappear if she let go.

She didn't care about the future, about choices, about fear.

Right now, she just needed him close.