26-04-2025, 10:43 AM
Episode 29: The Moment She Faced Him
The classroom had gone quiet again.
Outside, the breeze pressed gently through the windows, rustling the corners of loose papers and skirts. Fans buzzed overhead, mixing with the sound of pencils against paper.
Meera, in her pink saree and sleeveless blouse, stood tall at the front of the room. She had just finished writing a problem on the board and now turned to face the class.
“Try this one,” she said, her tone calm, sure. “I’ll walk around.”
Students dropped their heads over notebooks. Chairs creaked. Work began.
But not for Arjun.
He didn’t move. Couldn’t.
His eyes were fixed—not just on Meera, but on the space around her. The light caught her earrings. The pink fabric glowed against her skin. The blouse curved clean around her shoulders, exposing just enough to unsettle something deep inside him.
She stepped down from the platform and walked slowly down the aisle between rows, stopping occasionally, hands behind her back, scanning work.
When she reached his row, she paused—right in front of him.
Not a word.
Not a glance.
Just presence.
Then—she lifted both arms.
---
She was still facing him.
Right there, barely two steps away, Meera reached up with quiet ease and began tying her hair into a ponytail. Her arms rose, her posture elongating slightly. Her sleeveless blouse revealed more now—the clean line from her shoulder down to the gentle inward curve of her upper arms. Her collarbones shifted subtly with the motion.
And Arjun stared.
Eyes wide.
Frozen.
Breath caught.
The loose end of her braid swung forward, brushing her shoulder. As she twisted the hair into a ponytail, her bangles slid down her wrist, catching the light. Her expression was neutral—focused on the task. Nothing about it was suggestive.
But to him, it felt like the world narrowed to that single moment.
There was nowhere else to look.
Her neck. Her arms. The lines of her saree. The ease in her movement. The faint movement of her chest as she adjusted the band.
He sat there, absolutely undone, yet completely still—praying she wouldn’t look down and see the storm in his eyes.
---
She finished the ponytail with a quick twist and a flick of her fingers.
And then moved on.
No glance. No word.
But Arjun remained stuck in that moment—chest tight, hands numb, heart loud.
Because she hadn’t looked at him once.
And still, she had never felt closer.
---
Later That Night – Arjun’s Room
The house had gone quiet.
Lights dimmed. The hum of the ceiling fan above did little to distract him. Arjun lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, arms by his side, his body still and wired with everything he couldn’t say out loud.
The moment wouldn’t leave him.
Her.
Standing right in front of him.
Hair lifted. Arms raised.
The quiet stretch of her body framed in soft pink fabric.
And what startled him most was how something so small—the bare glimpse beneath her arm, the curve of her shoulder, the soft shadow of skin he hadn’t seen before—could undo him entirely.
It wasn’t exaggerated. It wasn’t intentional.
But for the first time, he had seen something real. Something ordinary, and yet—to him—unbelievably intimate.
> Her armpits.
Her arms in motion.
Her being at ease in her skin.
He had never thought of it before.
And now he couldn’t think of anything else.
She had raised her hair without knowing what she’d revealed.
And that made it all the more impossible to forget.
He turned onto his side, pulled the sheet higher, and closed his eyes.
But sleep wouldn’t come easy.
Not tonight.
---
To be continued…
The classroom had gone quiet again.
Outside, the breeze pressed gently through the windows, rustling the corners of loose papers and skirts. Fans buzzed overhead, mixing with the sound of pencils against paper.
Meera, in her pink saree and sleeveless blouse, stood tall at the front of the room. She had just finished writing a problem on the board and now turned to face the class.
“Try this one,” she said, her tone calm, sure. “I’ll walk around.”
Students dropped their heads over notebooks. Chairs creaked. Work began.
But not for Arjun.
He didn’t move. Couldn’t.
His eyes were fixed—not just on Meera, but on the space around her. The light caught her earrings. The pink fabric glowed against her skin. The blouse curved clean around her shoulders, exposing just enough to unsettle something deep inside him.
She stepped down from the platform and walked slowly down the aisle between rows, stopping occasionally, hands behind her back, scanning work.
When she reached his row, she paused—right in front of him.
Not a word.
Not a glance.
Just presence.
Then—she lifted both arms.
---
She was still facing him.
Right there, barely two steps away, Meera reached up with quiet ease and began tying her hair into a ponytail. Her arms rose, her posture elongating slightly. Her sleeveless blouse revealed more now—the clean line from her shoulder down to the gentle inward curve of her upper arms. Her collarbones shifted subtly with the motion.
And Arjun stared.
Eyes wide.
Frozen.
Breath caught.
The loose end of her braid swung forward, brushing her shoulder. As she twisted the hair into a ponytail, her bangles slid down her wrist, catching the light. Her expression was neutral—focused on the task. Nothing about it was suggestive.
But to him, it felt like the world narrowed to that single moment.
There was nowhere else to look.
Her neck. Her arms. The lines of her saree. The ease in her movement. The faint movement of her chest as she adjusted the band.
He sat there, absolutely undone, yet completely still—praying she wouldn’t look down and see the storm in his eyes.
---
She finished the ponytail with a quick twist and a flick of her fingers.
And then moved on.
No glance. No word.
But Arjun remained stuck in that moment—chest tight, hands numb, heart loud.
Because she hadn’t looked at him once.
And still, she had never felt closer.
---
Later That Night – Arjun’s Room
The house had gone quiet.
Lights dimmed. The hum of the ceiling fan above did little to distract him. Arjun lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, arms by his side, his body still and wired with everything he couldn’t say out loud.
The moment wouldn’t leave him.
Her.
Standing right in front of him.
Hair lifted. Arms raised.
The quiet stretch of her body framed in soft pink fabric.
And what startled him most was how something so small—the bare glimpse beneath her arm, the curve of her shoulder, the soft shadow of skin he hadn’t seen before—could undo him entirely.
It wasn’t exaggerated. It wasn’t intentional.
But for the first time, he had seen something real. Something ordinary, and yet—to him—unbelievably intimate.
> Her armpits.
Her arms in motion.
Her being at ease in her skin.
He had never thought of it before.
And now he couldn’t think of anything else.
She had raised her hair without knowing what she’d revealed.
And that made it all the more impossible to forget.
He turned onto his side, pulled the sheet higher, and closed his eyes.
But sleep wouldn’t come easy.
Not tonight.
---
To be continued…
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