23-04-2025, 02:54 AM
Episode 25: Closer Than It Looks
The late afternoon sunlight streamed into the staff room in pale strips. The college had gone quiet. Only a few conversations echoed faintly down the corridor. Inside, the air was still—fans humming, papers shuffling.
Meera stood near the wall cabinet, filing away the last of the worksheets. Her cream cotton saree had shifted during the day—pleats loosening slightly at the waist, softening the clean line that usually defined her posture.
She didn’t seem to care. The day was almost over.
Priya, lounging nearby, noticed immediately.
She stood up, walked over, and before Meera could react—reached down and gently adjusted the loose pleats at her waist.
Not rushed.
Not hesitant.
Just… familiar.
Her fingers slid between the fabric and Meera’s blouse, tucking it securely, pressing softly against the curve of her waist as she straightened it with practiced ease.
Meera froze—only for a moment.
Then glanced over her shoulder with the faintest smile. “You could warn me, you know.”
Priya shrugged. “You keep walking around like that, you’re going to cause a situation.”
“And you’re the self-appointed protector of decency now?”
“No,” Priya said, letting her palm rest lightly against Meera’s side before stepping away. “I’m the one who can’t look away either.”
Meera didn’t respond.
But she didn’t move, either.
---
Just Outside – Arjun Watching
From down the corridor, Arjun stood beside the notice board, back to the wall, pretending to read an old timetable pinned behind glass.
But his eyes were locked on the narrow opening of the staff room door.
And what he saw knocked the breath out of him.
Priya, bent slightly, fingers adjusting the pleats right at Meera’s waist. The same waist he’d stared at from a classroom desk more times than he could count. The exact curve his dreams had turned into rituals.
Meera didn’t stop her.
She let her.
She smiled.
That hand. That touch.
It wasn’t an accident.
It wasn’t something anyone could mistake.
Arjun’s chest tightened. His throat dried. He looked away too late and walked off too fast.
His thoughts didn’t follow him.
They stayed there.
Inside that room.
With her.
And the hands that weren’t his.
---
Later That Evening – Arjun Alone
The house was quiet. The dinner dishes had been washed, the lights dimmed in the hallway. But Arjun sat in his room—door closed, window cracked open, his college bag still untouched on the chair.
He wasn’t thinking about homework.
He was thinking about what he saw.
It wouldn’t leave him.
Priya’s hand. Meera’s waist. The way her fingers moved with ease, slipping into the pleats of the saree, tucking it with quiet confidence. Meera’s body didn’t flinch. She smiled. Let it happen. Like it wasn’t the first time. Like it meant nothing.
But for Arjun, it meant everything.
That moment hadn’t been meant for him. But he’d seen it. Too clearly.
And now, in the quiet of his room, he felt the weight of it pressing down on his chest. Not just lust—need. Frustration. The ache of something so close, so vivid, and so far out of reach.
He leaned back, closed his eyes.
And saw it again. Frame by frame.
The soft fall of Meera’s saree. The shift of her waist as she stood still. Priya’s fingers—slow, certain—brushing fabric against skin.
Meera didn’t even move.
She just let herself be touched.
Arjun exhaled, sharp and low.
His pulse quickened.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep without thinking about it. Without reliving it. Without his body responding in ways he no longer fully controlled.
The worst part?
He didn’t want to forget it.
He wanted to stay in that scene. Let it loop. Let it claim him for a while longer—because in that moment, even from a distance, he felt closer to Meera than he ever had.
---
To be continued…
The late afternoon sunlight streamed into the staff room in pale strips. The college had gone quiet. Only a few conversations echoed faintly down the corridor. Inside, the air was still—fans humming, papers shuffling.
Meera stood near the wall cabinet, filing away the last of the worksheets. Her cream cotton saree had shifted during the day—pleats loosening slightly at the waist, softening the clean line that usually defined her posture.
She didn’t seem to care. The day was almost over.
Priya, lounging nearby, noticed immediately.
She stood up, walked over, and before Meera could react—reached down and gently adjusted the loose pleats at her waist.
Not rushed.
Not hesitant.
Just… familiar.
Her fingers slid between the fabric and Meera’s blouse, tucking it securely, pressing softly against the curve of her waist as she straightened it with practiced ease.
Meera froze—only for a moment.
Then glanced over her shoulder with the faintest smile. “You could warn me, you know.”
Priya shrugged. “You keep walking around like that, you’re going to cause a situation.”
“And you’re the self-appointed protector of decency now?”
“No,” Priya said, letting her palm rest lightly against Meera’s side before stepping away. “I’m the one who can’t look away either.”
Meera didn’t respond.
But she didn’t move, either.
---
Just Outside – Arjun Watching
From down the corridor, Arjun stood beside the notice board, back to the wall, pretending to read an old timetable pinned behind glass.
But his eyes were locked on the narrow opening of the staff room door.
And what he saw knocked the breath out of him.
Priya, bent slightly, fingers adjusting the pleats right at Meera’s waist. The same waist he’d stared at from a classroom desk more times than he could count. The exact curve his dreams had turned into rituals.
Meera didn’t stop her.
She let her.
She smiled.
That hand. That touch.
It wasn’t an accident.
It wasn’t something anyone could mistake.
Arjun’s chest tightened. His throat dried. He looked away too late and walked off too fast.
His thoughts didn’t follow him.
They stayed there.
Inside that room.
With her.
And the hands that weren’t his.
---
Later That Evening – Arjun Alone
The house was quiet. The dinner dishes had been washed, the lights dimmed in the hallway. But Arjun sat in his room—door closed, window cracked open, his college bag still untouched on the chair.
He wasn’t thinking about homework.
He was thinking about what he saw.
It wouldn’t leave him.
Priya’s hand. Meera’s waist. The way her fingers moved with ease, slipping into the pleats of the saree, tucking it with quiet confidence. Meera’s body didn’t flinch. She smiled. Let it happen. Like it wasn’t the first time. Like it meant nothing.
But for Arjun, it meant everything.
That moment hadn’t been meant for him. But he’d seen it. Too clearly.
And now, in the quiet of his room, he felt the weight of it pressing down on his chest. Not just lust—need. Frustration. The ache of something so close, so vivid, and so far out of reach.
He leaned back, closed his eyes.
And saw it again. Frame by frame.
The soft fall of Meera’s saree. The shift of her waist as she stood still. Priya’s fingers—slow, certain—brushing fabric against skin.
Meera didn’t even move.
She just let herself be touched.
Arjun exhaled, sharp and low.
His pulse quickened.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep without thinking about it. Without reliving it. Without his body responding in ways he no longer fully controlled.
The worst part?
He didn’t want to forget it.
He wanted to stay in that scene. Let it loop. Let it claim him for a while longer—because in that moment, even from a distance, he felt closer to Meera than he ever had.
---
To be continued…
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