23-07-2025, 01:05 AM
Behind the door...
She wasn’t wearing a towel.
She wasn’t covered at all.
Completely naked...
Just the warmth of water behind her
And this thin sliver of space through which she was now asking him to cross a threshold neither of them had ever approached before.
But he was still staring at her, wide-eyed, his expression unreadable, as though the air between them had thickened too much for words.
In her mind, the words echoed, What must he be thinking?
Did he imagine her now, standing there with nothing but dripping water and heat?
Her lips parted, just barely, waiting, watching him carefully.
She was asking for help in the most vulnerable way, baring a part of herself she usually kept carefully hidden.
Ravi’s breath hitched, and for a second, he struggled to find his voice.
The sight of her there, half-shielded by the door,
water tracing the lines of her skin, woke something deep inside him.
A mixture of protectiveness, desire, and the uneasy tension of crossing an invisible boundary.
“I—yeah. Of course,” he said finally, voice low, steadying himself. “I’ll get them.”
He rose, the click of the laptop lid closing sounding louder than usual in the charged silence.
His eyes didn’t leave hers as he stepped toward the hallway, careful not to look anywhere but at her,
Yet undeniably aware of her vulnerability.
Neetu watched him move, every step deliberate, as if time had slowed just for this moment.
The door remained slightly open, a fragile thread connecting them.
As Ravi disappeared down the hall toward her bedroom,
Neetu leaned back against the wall, closing the door softly.
Her heart thundered, a wild mix of adrenaline and something tender,
As her mind replayed his expression, the flicker of surprise, the careful restraint.
She knew this moment would linger with them, an unspoken acknowledgment of the fragile tension,
A dance around the edges of something neither dared name aloud.
She wasn’t wearing a towel.
She wasn’t covered at all.
Completely naked...
Just the warmth of water behind her
And this thin sliver of space through which she was now asking him to cross a threshold neither of them had ever approached before.
But he was still staring at her, wide-eyed, his expression unreadable, as though the air between them had thickened too much for words.
In her mind, the words echoed, What must he be thinking?
Did he imagine her now, standing there with nothing but dripping water and heat?
Her lips parted, just barely, waiting, watching him carefully.
She was asking for help in the most vulnerable way, baring a part of herself she usually kept carefully hidden.
Ravi’s breath hitched, and for a second, he struggled to find his voice.
The sight of her there, half-shielded by the door,
water tracing the lines of her skin, woke something deep inside him.
A mixture of protectiveness, desire, and the uneasy tension of crossing an invisible boundary.
“I—yeah. Of course,” he said finally, voice low, steadying himself. “I’ll get them.”
He rose, the click of the laptop lid closing sounding louder than usual in the charged silence.
His eyes didn’t leave hers as he stepped toward the hallway, careful not to look anywhere but at her,
Yet undeniably aware of her vulnerability.
Neetu watched him move, every step deliberate, as if time had slowed just for this moment.
The door remained slightly open, a fragile thread connecting them.
As Ravi disappeared down the hall toward her bedroom,
Neetu leaned back against the wall, closing the door softly.
Her heart thundered, a wild mix of adrenaline and something tender,
As her mind replayed his expression, the flicker of surprise, the careful restraint.
She knew this moment would linger with them, an unspoken acknowledgment of the fragile tension,
A dance around the edges of something neither dared name aloud.
-- oOo --
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