11-04-2025, 05:47 AM
(This post was last modified: 11-04-2025, 05:49 AM by shamson9571. Edited 1 time in total. Edited 1 time in total.)
Episode 14: Just Out of Reach
The corridor outside the staff room was unusually quiet for a weekday afternoon. Most students had left, and the rest were either finishing club activities or lingering near the gate.
Arjun stood outside the half-open staff room door, fidgeting with the strap of his bag. Meera Ma’am had asked him to pick up a set of solved worksheets from her desk—“You’ll find them in a blue file,” she’d said before vanishing inside.
He hesitated, then knocked lightly.
Inside, Meera looked up from her chair. “Come in,” she said, without looking twice.
He stepped in slowly, eyes darting around the room. The lighting was soft, one tube light flickering at the far end. Priya Ma’am sat at a desk by the window, legs crossed, flipping through a magazine with little interest.
Meera was by the far shelf now, standing on her toes, reaching for a file above her height. Her cream-colored saree shimmered faintly under the pale light, the pleats perfectly tucked—until she stretched.
Arjun froze.
As her arms rose above her head, the pallu shifted back slightly. The movement pulled her blouse tighter across her back, and just below that—a clean strip of bare waist peeked out between blouse and saree.
No navel.
But close.
So close.
The fabric at her hip loosened slightly as she leaned further in. The pleats dipped, not enough to fall, but enough to tease the possibility.
Arjun’s breath slowed. His heart thudded loud in his chest.
She adjusted her fingers higher, inching toward the file. The saree threatened to dip just one inch more. Arjun leaned slightly, eyes fixed, hoping it would slip—just a little. Just enough to show what his imagination had already rehearsed a hundred times.
But before it could, she got the file.
She stepped down with a small satisfied breath, turning toward him, completely unaware.
“Here,” she said, holding out the file. “It’s already arranged by section.”
Arjun blinked, taking it from her hands, but his mind was still behind her. At that shelf. At that moment.
“Thanks, Ma’am,” he mumbled, avoiding her eyes.
She gave him a polite smile, already moving back to her desk. “You can leave it on your class rep’s table after checking your name.”
He nodded and turned to go—too quickly.
Behind him, near the window, Priya watched quietly. She hadn’t moved. She hadn’t said a word. But she’d seen it.
The way Arjun’s eyes had locked.
The pause.
The subtle lean forward.
The stillness in his body while Meera was turned away.
She didn’t say anything. Not now.
But something in her gaze narrowed—measured. Curious.
------
Later That Day — Arjun's Room
Evening settled into his room with the kind of silence that should’ve been peaceful—but for Arjun, it was anything but.
His math book lay open in front of him, but the numbers might as well have been a foreign language. He wasn’t thinking about formulas or revision.
He was thinking about her.
That moment.
In the staff room.
The shelf.
Her arms raised.
That soft strip of bare skin right above her hips.
He hadn’t expected to see that much. He never did. But when it happened, when her blouse lifted just slightly and the pleats of her saree loosened with that one long stretch—he knew.
He was seconds away.
From seeing the one thing he had imagined endlessly. The one detail that had haunted him through every late-night thought, every slow glance in class—her navel.
It was almost there.
So close.
The fabric had dipped just enough to send his heart into freefall. His eyes locked on the edge of the pleats, watching every shift of her waist, every tug of gravity. For a second, he thought it was really happening. That this was it.
But no.
She found the file.
She stepped down.
The pleats held.
Like fate was playing games with him.
A moment offered, then taken.
Like someone dangling a flame just out of reach, only to snuff it before it burned.
He sighed and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling fan.
“Why?” he muttered under his breath. “Why now? Why not one inch more?”
His hand ran across his face, equal parts frustrated and embarrassed. He wasn’t proud of how obsessed he had become with something so small, but it felt bigger than that.
It wasn’t just about the navel.
It was about the tease. The nearness. The almost.
He closed his eyes, and it all replayed—frame by frame. Her reaching. Her breath. The slight shift of fabric. Her soft waist curved like it belonged in another world.
And him, stuck in this one.
Always watching. Never touching.
Always almost.
He groaned quietly, gripping the pillow behind his head. “This isn’t fair,” he whispered to no one. “Not fair at all.”
To be continued.....
The corridor outside the staff room was unusually quiet for a weekday afternoon. Most students had left, and the rest were either finishing club activities or lingering near the gate.
Arjun stood outside the half-open staff room door, fidgeting with the strap of his bag. Meera Ma’am had asked him to pick up a set of solved worksheets from her desk—“You’ll find them in a blue file,” she’d said before vanishing inside.
He hesitated, then knocked lightly.
Inside, Meera looked up from her chair. “Come in,” she said, without looking twice.
He stepped in slowly, eyes darting around the room. The lighting was soft, one tube light flickering at the far end. Priya Ma’am sat at a desk by the window, legs crossed, flipping through a magazine with little interest.
Meera was by the far shelf now, standing on her toes, reaching for a file above her height. Her cream-colored saree shimmered faintly under the pale light, the pleats perfectly tucked—until she stretched.
Arjun froze.
As her arms rose above her head, the pallu shifted back slightly. The movement pulled her blouse tighter across her back, and just below that—a clean strip of bare waist peeked out between blouse and saree.
No navel.
But close.
So close.
The fabric at her hip loosened slightly as she leaned further in. The pleats dipped, not enough to fall, but enough to tease the possibility.
Arjun’s breath slowed. His heart thudded loud in his chest.
She adjusted her fingers higher, inching toward the file. The saree threatened to dip just one inch more. Arjun leaned slightly, eyes fixed, hoping it would slip—just a little. Just enough to show what his imagination had already rehearsed a hundred times.
But before it could, she got the file.
She stepped down with a small satisfied breath, turning toward him, completely unaware.
“Here,” she said, holding out the file. “It’s already arranged by section.”
Arjun blinked, taking it from her hands, but his mind was still behind her. At that shelf. At that moment.
“Thanks, Ma’am,” he mumbled, avoiding her eyes.
She gave him a polite smile, already moving back to her desk. “You can leave it on your class rep’s table after checking your name.”
He nodded and turned to go—too quickly.
Behind him, near the window, Priya watched quietly. She hadn’t moved. She hadn’t said a word. But she’d seen it.
The way Arjun’s eyes had locked.
The pause.
The subtle lean forward.
The stillness in his body while Meera was turned away.
She didn’t say anything. Not now.
But something in her gaze narrowed—measured. Curious.
------
Later That Day — Arjun's Room
Evening settled into his room with the kind of silence that should’ve been peaceful—but for Arjun, it was anything but.
His math book lay open in front of him, but the numbers might as well have been a foreign language. He wasn’t thinking about formulas or revision.
He was thinking about her.
That moment.
In the staff room.
The shelf.
Her arms raised.
That soft strip of bare skin right above her hips.
He hadn’t expected to see that much. He never did. But when it happened, when her blouse lifted just slightly and the pleats of her saree loosened with that one long stretch—he knew.
He was seconds away.
From seeing the one thing he had imagined endlessly. The one detail that had haunted him through every late-night thought, every slow glance in class—her navel.
It was almost there.
So close.
The fabric had dipped just enough to send his heart into freefall. His eyes locked on the edge of the pleats, watching every shift of her waist, every tug of gravity. For a second, he thought it was really happening. That this was it.
But no.
She found the file.
She stepped down.
The pleats held.
Like fate was playing games with him.
A moment offered, then taken.
Like someone dangling a flame just out of reach, only to snuff it before it burned.
He sighed and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling fan.
“Why?” he muttered under his breath. “Why now? Why not one inch more?”
His hand ran across his face, equal parts frustrated and embarrassed. He wasn’t proud of how obsessed he had become with something so small, but it felt bigger than that.
It wasn’t just about the navel.
It was about the tease. The nearness. The almost.
He closed his eyes, and it all replayed—frame by frame. Her reaching. Her breath. The slight shift of fabric. Her soft waist curved like it belonged in another world.
And him, stuck in this one.
Always watching. Never touching.
Always almost.
He groaned quietly, gripping the pillow behind his head. “This isn’t fair,” he whispered to no one. “Not fair at all.”
To be continued.....
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