Rudra felt betrayed.
Not by Ayaan.
By himself.
By the way his heart screamed louder than his mind. By the way his body ignored every order, every rule of distance, every line of control he had drawn for years.
One step.
Then another.
Until he was standing directly in front of the couch—directly in front of him.
Ayaan's breath caught. His eyes lifted, slowly, hesitantly, to meet Rudra's. From this angle, sitting while Rudra loomed above, he had to tilt his chin up slightly, lips parting just a fraction.
And Rudra… leaned in.
Not enough to touch.
Just enough to feel the warmth of each other's breath.
Just enough that one movement, one slip, one whisper could erase the space entirely.
The air grew heavy, thick with unspoken words neither dared to voice.
Ayaan's hand twitched against his knee, like he wanted to reach out but didn't. His lashes fluttered, cheeks flushed. He swallowed, gaze darting from Rudra's sharp eyes to the faint curve of his lips—then back again.
Rudra's own chest rose and fell, steadier than he felt. He said nothing. He couldn't.
Because what words could capture this?
This raw pull, this need, this terrifying unfamiliarity of standing so close to someone and not wanting to retreat?
Silence stretched, louder than sound.
Neither moved.
Neither spoke.
And yet—everything between them had already shifted
To be continued