Riya and Dev stood in the middle of the boutique, the air around them thick with tension—charged, yet neither of them could bring themselves to speak. There was something electric between them, something words couldn't quite capture. It had been brewing ever since the rainstorm forced them inside, but now it hung in the silence, intensified by the moment they had just shared—a gaze that seemed to last an eternity. Dev's dark, penetrating eyes had locked on her, and for a second, Riya had forgotten where she was. His intensity made her heart race, as if she was the only person in the world he could see.
But then, the shrill buzz of his phone cut through the moment like a blade. Her stomach dipped asDev's jaw tightened he glanced at the screen, his expression hardening. His gaze flicked back to Riya one last time, a look that seemed to etch her face into his memory. He hesitated, his body almost leaning toward her, but then he turned sharply and walked away to take the call, leaving her standing there, pulse racing, her mind swirling with questions.
What just happened? she wondered, blinking to clear her head from the daze. She could still feel the weight of his gaze on her skin, the way his presence had drawn her in.
When Dev returned, the quiet confidence in his stride was back, though Riya could sense the tension still lingering between them. "You should change," she reminded him, her voice lighter than she felt. "Your suit's drenched from the rain."
He glanced down, as if just noticing the dark patches of wet fabric clinging to his frame. "Alright," he replied with that smooth, velvety voice that seemed to hum in her ears. He disappeared into the fitting room, and when he re-emerged, his change of clothes accentuated the sharp lines of his body.
the way the fabric stretched across his broad, muscular frame, holding him like a second skin. His suit, though impeccable, did little to hide the raw power beneath. His strong shoulders, the defined lines of his chest, and the way his biceps flexed ever so slightly when he moved—it was a quiet but constant reminder of the control he held, not just over himself, but over the world around him.
Riya had already paid for his clothes when he returned, an act that clearly surprised him. "I would have taken care of that," he said, his tone firm, yet not cold.
She snorted softly, teasing him. "What, can't a woman pay?"
"Other women can," he said, his long legs casually strolling towards her, his eyes so dark and searching through her face to settle them quietly at hers as if he'd wanted it for years, uncompromising—as his heavy breath reached above her head, she heard him say his voice low sending quite rumblings down her spine "But I'd prefer to pay for mine." The words curling in the air between them.His look clearly reflected the unsaid—his woman!
Riya felt a flush creep up her neck, he meant for his suit right? and not that I'm his woman right?her heart turned into a mess she quickly turned away, brushing off the moment with a hurried, "Let's go." But she couldn't ignore the warmth that spread through her when he said it. He was always composed, always so sure of himself, yet there was a softness there she hadn't expected.
As they stepped out onto the street, the rain had slowed to a drizzle, the city lights reflecting off the slick pavement. Dev's eyes flicked to her again, lingering on the way her wet hair clung to her neck. He pursed his lips, then said, "Have a meal with me?"
She looked at him, surprised by the casualness of the offer, and yet something about it felt intimate. After a beat, she nodded. "Okay."
They walked in comfortable silence, a quiet understanding passing between them as they made their way to a high-end restaurant nearby. It was the kind of place Dev was accustomed to—sleek, modern, understated in its luxury. The dim lighting cast a warm, golden glow over the room, highlighting the soft, plush seating and dark wood furnishings.
Once seated, Dev's attention was fully on her. "What would you like to eat?" he asked, his voice low and steady, as if this moment mattered more than just a simple meal.
Riya scanned the menu, her fingers brushing the leather-bound cover. "I'll let you decide," she said, half-smiling.
Dev ordered with precision, choosing dishes that were light yet flavorful. As they waited, he stole quiet glances at her, his gaze lingering longer than usual. Her hair, still damp from the rain, had dried in soft waves that framed her face, and he found himself captivated by how the strands clung to the nape of her neck. It was such a small detail, but it fascinated him. The way her skin seemed to glisten in the restaurant's dim light, the soft curve of her throat—it stirred something unfamiliar within him, something he wasn't quite ready to name.
When the food arrived, Riya felt a touch of awkwardness settle over her. She wasn't sure what to say, so she fell back on small talk. "How's work?" she asked, forcing herself to sound casual.
Dev played along, answering her questions in his usual composed manner, but his responses were clipped, careful. He wasn't used to talking about himself, not in this way, not with her. But when the conversation shifted to Riya's work, something changed. She lit up, her eyes glowing as she spoke about her passion, and Dev found himself listening intently, even though she was guarded with him, careful not to share too much. She remained composed, in control of the conversation, but there was something about the way she spoke that drew him in.
"You really love what you do," he observed quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Riya paused, caught off guard by the softness in his tone. She looked at him, her gaze uncertain. "I do," she said after a moment, her voice quieter now too.
Dev watched her closely, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It shows." There was something about the way he said it—so simple, so sincere—that made her heart skip a beat.
She blushed, ducking her head slightly, and for a moment, the conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence.
The rest of the meal passed in a blur of light touches and stolen glances, their exchanges growing more relaxed, more natural. When they finally left the restaurant, the tension between them had softened, but the charge was still there, humming beneath the surface.
Dev insisted on driving her home. By the time they pulled up in front of her house, Riya had dozed off, her head resting gently against the car window, her slow and steady breath matching his calm. Dev turned his head to look at her, his breath slightly heavy. There was something mesmerizing about the way she slept, her face relaxed and peaceful, free from the guarded composure she always maintained around him.
He reached out, his fingers hovering just above her cheek, tempted to brush away the stray strands of hair that had fallen across her face. But before he could make contact, the driver's sudden coughing fit broke the moment. The poor soul couldn't handle his boss who have been a monk all his life approaching a woman, his soft heart couldn't take such shock, tsk tsk. Dev's hand snapped back, and he shot the driver a cold, hard look, that had the man scrambling out of the car in terror.
Dev sighed, leaning back in his seat. He glanced at Riya again, a strange heaviness settling over his chest. She wasn't the forgiving type, and for some reason, that thought weighed on him more than he cared to admit. He closed his eyes, the warmth of her presence still lingering in the car.
Dev glanced at Riya as she stirred awake, her hair slightly tousled from sleeping, a few stray strands falling over her face. There was something undeniably endearing about the way she looked just then—so unlike her usual composed self. For a moment, he allowed himself to take it in: her soft, sleepy eyes and the hint of a frown as she tried to fix her messy hair. She looked cute, and that simple realization made his breath hitch.
But right now, with her looking so unguarded, something inside him softened in a way that was unfamiliar yet impossible to ignore. She looked different—vulnerable, approachable, as if the walls she usually kept between them had fallen, even if just for this brief moment.
Without thinking, he reached out again, his fingers hovering close to her face as if he were about to brush a strand of hair away. He stopped himself just short of touching her skin, his hand lingering in the air as he marveled at how such a small thing—her messy hair, her sleepy face—could stir something so deep within him.
His fingers grazing the air between them. She froze, her heart skipping a beat as she felt the heat of his hand so close to her skin. Riya blinked, her drowsiness quickly fading as she realized where they were. "We're here?" she asked, sitting up, her fingers quickly moving to fix her hair, though the slight messiness only added to her charm.
He retreated his hand and chuckled softly, though his voice held its usual composure. "You looked tired," he said gently. "So I waited."
For a fleeting second, Riya caught the softness in his gaze, the way he was watching her with something close to fondness, and it made her heart flutter.
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry—"
"Don't be," he interrupted, his tone firm yet soft. "You needed the rest."
She swallowed, unsure of what to say. His kindness caught her off guard, as did the warmth in his gaze. She glanced away, trying to steady her racing heart.
Dev cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "I'll see you at Ganesh Chaturthi," he said, his voice all serious again.
Riya blinked, surprised by the sudden change in tone. The faint scent of Dev's cologne filled the car—dark, woody, and subtly masculine. It was intoxicating, making her brain momentarily freeze as she took in the smell that seemed to wrap itself around her like a warm embrace. Her thoughts scattered, her usual sharpness dulled by the sheer nearness of him, the closeness of his presence. She cleared her throat and got out of the cramped space it wasn't helping her, she stopped midway
"Aren't you coming in?"
"Next time" his lips slightly curved.
She stood on the pavement, watching as Dev's car slowly pulled away from her house. The rumble of the engine was low as her heart still fluttered in her chest, her mind replaying the events of the evening—the subtle looks, the soft exchanges, and the way his scent had wrapped around her.
And for the first time, she allowed herself to smile—just a little.