23-06-2025, 12:57 AM
“See?” she said after the first bite. “Not bad.”
“High praise,” he said.
Their knees touched lightly.
“So,” she asked, stirring the noodles in her bowl, “what’s the story with you, Mr. Startup Boy?”
He smiled. “Trying to build something. Failing less lately.”
“You don’t seem like the failing type.”
“Neither do you,” he replied, his voice a shade lower.
She looked up at him, her gaze steady, curious. “Maybe we’re both good at hiding the cracks.”
For a second, the playfulness dropped, and something else flickered in her eyes.
Not vulnerability exactly, but awareness.
Of being seen. Of being drawn in.
“I think,” he said, his tone softer now, “you’re... different from what I imagined.”
She smirked. “You imagined me?”
He met her gaze. “Hard not to.”
She didn’t look away.
Her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile
Mischievous, but not mocking.
“Well,” she said, rising with her empty bowl, “you’re... not what I expected either.”
As she passed behind him, her fingers brushed lightly over his shoulder—just enough to make him feel it.
Just enough to let him know she did it on purpose.
“I’ll rinse these,” she said over her shoulder, “unless you want to impress me again.”
Abhi leaned back on the couch, heart beating a little faster now.
The house was quiet.
The rain outside whispered against the windows.
And something inside him stirred
Not just attraction
But anticipation.
Whatever was unfolding between them
It wasn’t loud, or rushed.
But it was starting to burn.
---
“High praise,” he said.
Their knees touched lightly.
“So,” she asked, stirring the noodles in her bowl, “what’s the story with you, Mr. Startup Boy?”
He smiled. “Trying to build something. Failing less lately.”
“You don’t seem like the failing type.”
“Neither do you,” he replied, his voice a shade lower.
She looked up at him, her gaze steady, curious. “Maybe we’re both good at hiding the cracks.”
For a second, the playfulness dropped, and something else flickered in her eyes.
Not vulnerability exactly, but awareness.
Of being seen. Of being drawn in.
“I think,” he said, his tone softer now, “you’re... different from what I imagined.”
She smirked. “You imagined me?”
He met her gaze. “Hard not to.”
She didn’t look away.
Her lips curved into a slow, knowing smile
Mischievous, but not mocking.
“Well,” she said, rising with her empty bowl, “you’re... not what I expected either.”
As she passed behind him, her fingers brushed lightly over his shoulder—just enough to make him feel it.
Just enough to let him know she did it on purpose.
“I’ll rinse these,” she said over her shoulder, “unless you want to impress me again.”
Abhi leaned back on the couch, heart beating a little faster now.
The house was quiet.
The rain outside whispered against the windows.
And something inside him stirred
Not just attraction
But anticipation.
Whatever was unfolding between them
It wasn’t loud, or rushed.
But it was starting to burn.
---
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