The silence after that cheek kiss had been unbearable.
Rudra, not knowing how else to deal with the heat crawling up his neck, had stood abruptly and muttered,
"I'll… make something."
He strode into the kitchen, sleeves rolled higher, opening cabinets he didn't even need. His hands hovered over ingredients like he was planning a gourmet dish, but in truth… he was stalling. Running.
Because his heart wouldn't calm down.
Because Ayaan had kissed him.
Because he hadn't hated it.
Behind him, the living room stayed quiet for a while. Then—soft footsteps. Careful, hesitant.
Rudra froze with a spoon in his hand. He could feel it before he heard it.
Ayaan. Standing just behind him. Close enough that Rudra could sense his warmth, though not a single touch connected them.
His chest tightened. He gripped the spoon harder, as if it could ground him.
Then, instinctively, Rudra turned—too quickly.
And suddenly—
Face to face.
A breath apart.
Rudra's eyes widened, utterly caught off guard. Ayaan looked startled too, but only for a moment. Then his gaze softened, and—without saying anything—he leaned forward. Just a little.
Not touching. Not yet.
But closer.
Close enough that Rudra could see the faint tremble of his lashes, the nervous quirk of his lips, the courage hidden under all that shyness.
Rudra's pulse thundered. His grip on the spoon slackened. He should have stepped back, should have regained his usual control…
But his body didn't move.
Instead, he stayed there—caught in Ayaan's quiet gravity, unable to look away.
To be continued.....