The silence in the house was unbearable.
Aakrati had tried everything—scrolling endlessly, walking from one room to another, even talking to herself out of boredom.
"Shrisha seriously takes forever…" she muttered, throwing her phone aside.
No reply.
No distraction.
Just… nothing.
She sat up suddenly.
"Okay, I'm not doing this."
And just like that—without thinking twice—she grabbed her keys and left.
A few minutes later, she stood outside Arsh's apartment.
Knocked once.
The door opened.
Arsh looked at her—slightly surprised, but not questioning.
She walked in like she belonged there.
"I'm bored," she announced, dropping onto the couch.
He closed the door behind her, watching her quietly.
"Hmm," he said, voice low, almost amused. "So this is where you come when that happens?"
She shrugged, already getting up again. "You should feel special."
"I do."
She didn't notice the way he said it.
Or maybe she did—
But chose not to think about it.
Within minutes, she was already roaming around his place.
Opening random cabinets.
Picking up things.
Looking everywhere like it was her personal tour.
"You always touch everything?" he asked, leaning casually against the wall.
"Yes."
"And no one stops you?"
"Who will?"
A small pause.
Then—
"I will."
Arsh said it so calmly that Aakrati actually paused for a second.
Then she smiled.
"You won't."
He raised an eyebrow, already stepping toward her. "Try me."
He reached for her wrist again, this time not just stopping her—but gently pulling her along with him, guiding her backward toward the couch.
Aakrati resisted instantly, laughing under her breath.
"Arsh—no—"
But he didn't stop.
Slow. Certain. Unbothered.
And that was exactly why she did what she did next.
Without warning—
She leaned forward and started tickling him.
"Now stop me!"
Arsh let out a short breath of laughter, clearly not expecting that.
"Aakrati—"
"You said you would!" she grinned, continuing, completely in control now.
For a moment, he actually moved back, trying to avoid her hands.
She followed.
Relentless.
Laughing, teasing, not letting him get a second to recover.
Arsh was laughing, breath uneven, trying to dodge her hands—but he didn't really try that hard.
Because he was already moving.
Step by step, backing toward the couch while Aakrati stayed busy, completely focused on tickling him.
"You're losing," she grinned, not even noticing.
"Am I?" he murmured.
The next second—
He dropped onto the couch.
And before she could react—
His hands found her waist and pulled her with him.
Aakrati gasped softly as she ended up right on him.
Her hands froze mid-air.
Her laughter stopped.
When she realized she was sitting on him, her eyes widened.
"Arsh—leave me."
"No."
She tried to get up, but his grip at her waist stopped her.
"This isn't normal," she muttered.
"Leave me—people don't sit on each other like this."
Arsh didn't let her move that easily.
One hand still steady at her waist, holding her in place.
"They do much more than this," he said, voice low, teasing.
Aakrati blinked, instantly flustered. "Arsh—"
"What?" he smirked, looking up at her. "You started it."
"I was just—"
"Tickling me?" he finished, amused. "And now?"
His fingers tightened just slightly—just enough to stop her from escaping.
"Now you're quiet."
Aakrati looked away, cheeks warming.
Arsh watched her for a second, clearly enjoying how quickly her confidence had disappeared.
"Where did all that attitude go?" he murmured.
Aakrati tried to push his shoulder lightly. "Don't start again… just let me go."
"You were very brave two minutes ago," he said, leaning in a little closer. "Now suddenly—quiet."
"I'm not quiet," she protested, but her voice came out softer than she intended.
He smiled at that.
"Say something properly then."
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Again.
That was enough for him.
His hand shifted slightly at her waist, steady, keeping her from slipping away as he leaned closer.
"Arsh… don't—" she said quickly, turning her face a little.
He paused for half a second.
Then, softer this time—slower—
"Then stop me."
She didn't.
Didn't push him away.
Didn't move.
Just stayed there, caught between resisting and not really wanting to.
And he noticed.
Of course he did.
So this time, when he leaned in—
He didn't stop.
The moment his lips touched hers, Aakrati's eyes widened in shock.
Her breath caught, fingers tightening around his shoulders as if she needed something to steady herself. It wasn't soft or hesitant—there was something deeper in the way he kissed her.
Something he hadn't been showing until now.
Arsh didn't pull back.
His hand tightened at her waist, drawing her closer, like he had no intention of letting this moment slip away. The kiss carried a quiet intensity—like a feeling he had kept hidden for too long and wasn't holding back anymore.
Aakrati stiffened at first, her instinct telling her to step away—
But she couldn't.
Because the way he held her, the way he stayed—
It didn't feel uncertain.
It felt… real.
Slowly, her resistance faded.
Her grip shifted, fingers curling into his shirt as she leaned in just a little, almost without realizing it.
And that was enough.
The kiss deepened—not rushed, not careless—but filled with something unspoken. Like everything he hadn't said, everything he hadn't shown, was suddenly there in that one moment.
His hold wrapped around her more securely, pulling her closer as if he didn't want distance to exist at all.
And this time—
She didn't try to create any.
When he finally pulled back, it was slow.
Reluctant.
His forehead almost brushing hers, his breath still uneven.
And the way he looked at her—
It wasn't teasing anymore.
It wasn't playful.
It was something quieter.
Stronger.
Like a truth he hadn't said out loud—
But had just made her feel.