Enaya malhotra

🌸 ENAYA MALHOTRA

“She was too soft for the world she was born into. And too loyal to ever leave it. That’s what made her dangerous.”

🌙 Name:

Enaya Ranvijay Malhotra

> Enaya, meaning “care” or “concern.” Her name itself was a contradiction to the world that would devour her.

🎓 Age:

21

🕊️ Personality Overview:

Quiet, composed, gentle — the kind of girl who smiles even when her heart is aching.

Speaks little, but listens with her whole being.

Avoids conflict, not because she’s weak — but because she grew up watching silence hold families together.

Deeply emotional but trained to hide it. She learned early that girls like her are supposed to be graceful, soft-spoken, obedient.

> “She didn’t know what rebellion felt like. Until she met a man who breathed like fire and kissed like destruction.”

🏡 Family Background:

Father: Ranvijay Malhotra — a powerful retired Army General turned Member of Parliament. Charismatic. Respected. Brutally principled. His word is law in the house, and Enaya has never disobeyed him. But she carries the weight of his expectations like chains around her ribs.

Mother: Anuradha Malhotra — elegant, elegant, and quietly broken. She raised Enaya to be a perfect wife, not a free woman. Always smiling, always sacrificing. Astha taught her how to walk with her eyes lowered and dreams locked in diaries no one would read.

Siblings: Only child. Which means all of her family’s pride, pressure, and paranoia rest on her small shoulders.

📚 Education and Aspirations:

A final-year literature student at Delhi University.

Loves poetry, especially Mirza Ghalib and Sylvia Plath — because both understood what it meant to ache in silence.

Secretly writes her own poems in an old cloth-bound journal she hides beneath her mattress.

Wants to study further. Maybe abroad. Maybe just a quiet life with books and freedom.

But she knows she won’t get either — not in a house where her life has already been planned.

🌸 Appearance:

Height: 5’4”

Skin: Almond gold, with a soft glow that comes from youth and sheltered living.

Hair: Waist-length, jet black, always braided or pinned — her mother says loose hair invites “the wrong kind of attention.”

Eyes: Deep brown, almost black, with a sadness she doesn’t realize is visible. Eyes that look down even when she wants to look up.

Lips: Naturally pink, often bitten — from nerves, from silence, from holding back words that could burn everything down.

> “She didn’t dress to impress. She dressed to disappear.”

🌧️ What She’s Never Said Out Loud:

She’s tired of being good. Tired of being the “perfect daughter.”

Sometimes she fantasizes about cutting her hair short, screaming at her father, and kissing a boy she barely knows — just to feel something that’s hers.

She’s scared of love. Not because she doesn’t believe in it… but because she does. Too much.

Every time a man stares too long, she clenches her fists. But sometimes… a part of her wants to be seen. Wants to be chosen. Wants to be loved so violently, it breaks the rules.

🕯️ Habits and Quirks:

Sleeps with the light on — not because she’s scared of the dark, but because it reminds her of all the nights she cried silently under a flickering lamp.

Presses her thumb to the edge of her jaw when she’s anxious.

Always carries a handkerchief in her purse — stitched by her mother, scented with rose water.

Writes one line of poetry on the last page of every book she finishes.

Doesn’t like eye contact. But when she does look up — you feel it like a prayer.

🥀 Her Emotional Landscape:

She doesn’t trust easily, not because people lied — but because they only loved her for being quiet and obedient.

Craves freedom like oxygen. But doesn’t know how to ask for it without disappointing someone.

Carries guilt for her own desires. She wants more — but thinks she shouldn’t.

She longs for someone to see her — truly see her — not as a daughter, not as a prize, not as an obedient girl… but as a woman full of storm and softness.

🌪️ What Will Break Her:

> “She was raised in a cage made of gold. It wasn’t until the monster arrived that she realized how much she wanted to fly.”

When Rahul Desai enters her life — not gently, but like a wrecking storm — she won’t know whether to run or reach for him.

He will see her. Too deeply.

He will touch her without touching.

He will look at her like she’s something forbidden and fragile — and that look will both terrify and thrill her.

Enaya won’t fall in love.

She will fall into obsession, confusion, longing, and fear — all at once.

And it will change her.

Because Rahul won’t just be her first kiss, her first rebellion, her first ache…

He will be the first man who ever makes her question the meaning of "good."

🕊️ How She Will Love Him:

Slowly. With trembling hands and too much feeling.

She’ll fight it at first — deny it, hate herself for it.

But then… she’ll start to understand his silence. His trauma. His shadows.

She’ll love him not in spite of his darkness, but because of it.

> “She’ll touch him like a prayer. And he’ll break her like a sin.”

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