The sun rose, spilling golden light into my room. I groaned, rubbing my eyes, and forced myself out of bed. As usual, I rushed to the bathroom to freshen up. A yellow long-sleeved blouse and black jeans—simple, comfortable. I caught my reflection in the mirror and sighed.
Yesterday's incident flashed in my mind. Falling onto the long black leather couch with Kathir—our bodies tangled for that brief moment. I shut my eyes and shook my head. Not going there.
His scent still clung to me, ghosting my skin, invading my nostrils. Nine hours in his shirt, and I still wasn't rid of it. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my perfume, spraying it around me in quick bursts. The strong floral scent overpowered the remnants of his cologne. Good.
I glanced back at the mirror and smiled. Perfect.
The taxi pulled up in front of Kathir's house. I paid the driver and stepped out, inhaling deeply. This morning had been peaceful so far—no drama, no chaos. Hopefully, the rest of the day would follow suit.
I rang the doorbell. No answer. I pressed it again. Still nothing.
Then, I noticed it—the door was slightly open.
"The door is open?" I muttered, pushing it gently. I peeked inside. The house was eerily silent. Not a single sign of life. Even Winston, his ever-present dog, was nowhere to be seen.
A smirk tugged at my lips. Looks like Kathir Rathore isn't home.
Just as the thought settled, I heard footsteps. My smile vanished in an instant.
Spoke too soon.
I turned toward the staircase just as Kathir descended. His black twill shirt hung loosely, the buttons undone as he fastened them one by one. My gaze betrayed me, flickering down to his toned chest before I caught myself. I snapped my head away, feigning interest in the wall.
"You've arrived," he said, voice deep and steady.
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. But my eyes—my damn eyes—drifted back, catching the flex of his fingers as they worked the buttons. His forearm muscles tensed, veins prominent under his skin.
I swallowed, forcing myself to focus.
No wonder people fear him. One slap from those hands could send someone straight to the ground.
Kathir's sharp gaze flicked toward me. His forehead creased slightly, catching my wandering eyes. Realizing I'd been staring, I quickly looked away.
"There's a mess in Winston's room—" he started.
"Done by you?" I interrupted before he could finish.
His fingers stilled at the last button. He gave me a silent glare, then adjusted his collar. "No. Winston."
I nodded, a teasing smile forming. "Oh, I see. I thought it was you."
His eyes narrowed slightly before he rolled them, jaw clenching. Without another word, he walked past me. His shoulder brushed against mine, sending a jolt of unexpected warmth down my spine.
But then—he stopped.
I turned, frowning. His body had gone rigid. His fists clenched at his sides. His breathing uneven.
"What happened?" I asked, stepping closer.
No response.
This reaction—I had seen it before. The way he froze. The way tension coiled around him like a predator ready to strike.
And then, before I could step back—he grabbed my arm.
"K-Kathir?" My voice wavered.
His grip tightened. His nails dug into my skin. His head tilted slightly, jaw flexing as if he were battling something inside him.
"Kathir, stop," I urged, wincing. "You're hurting me!"
He didn't move. His eyes were shut tight, his breathing ragged.
The sting in my arm grew unbearable. My veins screamed for relief. "Kathir!" I shouted louder this time.
His eyes snapped open. For a split second, I caught something—guilt? Pain? Regret? It was gone before I could decipher it.
He released me abruptly, stepping back. I clutched my arm, glaring at him. "What the hell is wrong with you, Mr. Kathir Rathore? Why do you keep doing this to me? What exactly is your problem?"
His jaw tightened as he rubbed his forehead, looking as though he was battling some inner war.
"How the hell am I supposed to feed your mother right now?" I snapped. My anger burned, washing away the ache in my arm.
He looked at me, then at my arm. His hand twitched, as if wanting to reach out. I took a step back.
He exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching harder before he muttered, "Sorry."
Sorry? Just sorry?
"That's it?" I scoffed. "Just sorry?"
But before I could say more, he turned and walked out.
"Hey! I'm not done talking!" I shouted after him.
The door slammed.
I exhaled forcefully, throwing my phone onto the black leather couch. Frustration boiled in my veins.
"Argh! This man is infuriating!"
I flipped my hair out of my face, trying to compose myself. But the sting in my arm and the weight of unanswered questions refused to let me be.
I took a deep breath, calming my racing thoughts before starting my day. Pushing aside the lingering frustration from Kathir's actions, I forced a smile as I entered Renuka Aunty's room. Her frail figure sat motionless in the wheelchair, her once bright eyes now clouded with exhaustion. I sighed softly and crouched beside her, gently adjusting the shawl over her shoulders.
"I need to run to the supermarket to grab some groceries for my house," I informed her as I carefully helped her freshen up. "But don't worry, I'll be back before lunch."
After maneuvering her wheelchair into the living area, I glanced at Winston, who was curled up on the carpet, snoring softly. A small chuckle escaped me. "Wait, I'll bring you something delicious," I told Renuka before heading to the kitchen.
The scent of simmering herbs and broth filled the space as I stirred the soup, letting the warmth soothe my nerves. Once it was ready, I returned to the living area and settled on the black leather couch, carefully feeding Renuka spoonfuls of the fragrant broth. After wiping the corners of her lips with a tissue, I guided her back to her room, tucking her in gently.
"I'll be back soon," I whispered, ruffling her hair before stepping out.
Descending the stairs, I walked past Kathir's room—its door locked with a pin-code panel. My eyes lingered on it for a second. What exactly was he hiding? Or was he just the kind of man who didn't like anyone entering his space? Not that it mattered to me.
Shaking off the thought, I left the house, informing the security guard before hailing a taxi to the supermarket.
The supermarket was bustling with customers. The sound of carts rattling, cash registers beeping, and low chatter filled the air, mixed with the cold, refreshing breeze of the air-conditioning.
"I need to be quick before Renuka Aunty's lunchtime," I muttered under my breath, pushing the trolley through the aisles.
My hands instinctively reached for a box of Coco Crunch—my breakfast staple—before grabbing a few chocolate bars. Sanjay, Vino, and I always fought over them at home, and I knew they'd appreciate the treat.
As I approached the checkout counter, a strong floral scent suddenly hit my nostrils. It was eerily familiar.
Wait… that's my fragrance.
I frowned, sniffing myself, but my perfume had already faded slightly. This one smelled fresh, intense—almost as if someone had just sprayed it.
Curious, I turned my head, and my breath caught in my throat.
A couple stood by the adjacent counter. The woman was laughing, dressed in a sleek, one-shoulder black dress, playfully pinching the cheek of the man beside her. He leaned in, attempting to kiss her, but she stepped back teasingly, making a few other customers roll their eyes.
My stomach twisted slightly. That girl...
Memories flickered—her face was familiar. I had seen her before at an office event. The same event where Kathir had forcefully grabbed me for a dance.
I bit the inside of my cheek, glancing back at my items. Why was she here? And why did Kathir act so strange that day?
"It's $350," the cashier's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
I blinked, quickly handing over the cash before making my way to the exit. But before stepping out, I cast one last glance at her.
Why is she wearing my signature fragrance?
I rolled my eyes. I knew perfumes weren't exclusive to one person, but still… it irked me.
Shrugging off the thought, I hailed a taxi and made my way back to Kathir's house.
As soon as I stepped inside, I placed the grocery bags on the coffee table and let out a deep sigh. My gaze drifted towards Winston's room, and the moment I peeked inside, I groaned.
His room was a mess.
Photos of Kathir lay scattered across the floor, their edges slightly damp with drool. Clearly, Winston had been licking them with an almost obsessive amount of love. My eyes twitched at the sight of Kathir's damaged wristwatch lying haphazardly on the bed.
"You just have to make a mess every single day, don't you?" I muttered, rolling my eyes at the fluffy culprit, who was too busy gnawing on his penguin toy to acknowledge me.
With an exasperated sigh, I got to work, tidying up the disaster zone. As I folded Winston's blanket, my eyes flickered to my arm. The faint redness from Kathir's earlier grip still lingered, and frustration bubbled in my chest.
Why did he always act that way?
Shaking my head, I threw the blanket onto Winston's bed and pointed a warning finger at him. "I swear, if you mess this room up again…"
Winston blinked at me, completely unbothered.
I sighed. "I need a nap."
Stepping out, I glanced at Renuka's room to check on her before heading to my own. As I walked past Kathir's door again, my gaze flickered toward the pin-lock panel.
Did he keep secrets in there?
I huffed. Who cares?
Collapsing onto my armchair, I let my body relax, the exhaustion of the day sinking into my bones. My eyes grew heavy, and before I knew it, sleep pulled me under.
Time passed in a dreamlike haze. A warmth enveloped me, and I instinctively reached out, grasping onto something firm and solid. I nuzzled into it, hugging it tightly, seeking comfort in the soft weight against me.
"Vidya."
A deep voice echoed through the distance, laced with irritation.
"Vidya."
The voice grew clearer, sharper.
My brows furrowed. Wait… that voice…
I slowly blinked my eyes open, and my heart nearly stopped.
Kathir Rathore.
His face was inches from mine, his piercing gaze locked onto me, his jaw clenched.
My breath hitched as realization crashed over me like a tidal wave. My arms—still wrapped around him—weren't hugging a pillow.
I had been hugging his arm.
I gasped, shoving him away as embarrassment flooded my entire being. "What the hell are you doing?!"
He straightened, rubbing his arm as if I had actually injured him. "I should be the one asking that." His expression was unreadable, but his clenched jaw and slightly narrowed eyes told me he was irritated.
Heat crept up my neck. "I—I thought it was a pillow!"
Kathir crossed his arms, looking me up and down with a mix of confusion and mild amusement. "A pillow?"
Oh God.
I needed an escape.
My eyes darted to my wristwatch—8:55 PM. Perfect.
"My job here is done! I have to go! Bye!"
Before he could get another word in, I bolted out of the room, practically flying down the stairs. I grabbed my things, flung the door open, and hailed a taxi. As I sank into the backseat, I let out a long, frustrated sigh.
My reflection in the window stared back at me, lips pressed together in disbelief.
"Another bad day," I muttered, rolling my eyes.