13-08-2025, 06:19 PM
Sirisha returned with two glasses of water
Setting them gently on the table before sitting down again, this time closer.
“Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about that hug,” she teased, watching him carefully.
He smiled, slow and genuine. “I think I’m still trying to figure out what it meant.”
She nudged him playfully with her elbow. “Maybe it meant you finally let your guard down.”
He looked into her eyes, warmth blooming in his chest. “Maybe.”
“Or maybe,” she whispered, leaning forward just enough to let her breath brush his cheek,
“it meant you like the way I look in this kurti.”
Ravi’s gaze flickered down to the curve of her neck, then back to her eyes. “I do.”
She smiled wider, emboldened now. “Careful. If you say that out loud too much, I might hold you to it.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I think I’m already held.”
Her fingers traced a lazy circle on the back of his hand. “Good.”
They sat like that for a moment, words slowing down, replaced by quiet connection,
The kind that builds in the space between breath and touch.
Sirisha leaned back slightly, letting the kurti shift over her thighs,
The damp patches clinging a little more to her skin.
She noticed Ravi’s gaze,
But instead of looking away, she held it, letting him see, and feel, the effect he had on her.
“You keep staring Bhayya,” she said softly, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Do I make you nervous, Bhayya?”
Ravi shook his head, though his chest tightened. “No… not nervous. Just… aware.”
“Aware?” she asked, leaning a fraction closer. “Of what exactly?”
He hesitated, then let his fingers brush lightly against her hand resting on the couch.
Setting them gently on the table before sitting down again, this time closer.
“Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about that hug,” she teased, watching him carefully.
He smiled, slow and genuine. “I think I’m still trying to figure out what it meant.”
She nudged him playfully with her elbow. “Maybe it meant you finally let your guard down.”
He looked into her eyes, warmth blooming in his chest. “Maybe.”
“Or maybe,” she whispered, leaning forward just enough to let her breath brush his cheek,
“it meant you like the way I look in this kurti.”
Ravi’s gaze flickered down to the curve of her neck, then back to her eyes. “I do.”
She smiled wider, emboldened now. “Careful. If you say that out loud too much, I might hold you to it.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I think I’m already held.”
Her fingers traced a lazy circle on the back of his hand. “Good.”
They sat like that for a moment, words slowing down, replaced by quiet connection,
The kind that builds in the space between breath and touch.
Sirisha leaned back slightly, letting the kurti shift over her thighs,
The damp patches clinging a little more to her skin.
She noticed Ravi’s gaze,
But instead of looking away, she held it, letting him see, and feel, the effect he had on her.
“You keep staring Bhayya,” she said softly, a teasing lilt in her voice. “Do I make you nervous, Bhayya?”
Ravi shook his head, though his chest tightened. “No… not nervous. Just… aware.”
“Aware?” she asked, leaning a fraction closer. “Of what exactly?”
He hesitated, then let his fingers brush lightly against her hand resting on the couch.
.