Priya's cheeks flushed pink under the compliment. She looked down at herself self-consciously for a second, tugging lightly at the hem of her t-shirt like she suddenly remembered how revealing it was with him standing there.
And became a little embarrassed, "I… usually only wear this at home. But today I decided to wear it for dance practice," she admitted quietly. "It's more comfortable for practice. Didn't expect you to come so early."
Arahan stepped a little closer, casual, "I'm glad I did. Otherwise, how can I witness you look beautiful in these clothes?"
She bit her lip, smiling shyly. "Stop, you're going to make me blush even more."
"Too late," he teased gently. "I have already recorded every part of you in my mind."
Hearing this, Priya again became blushed, she took one of the biscuits, breaking it in half and offering him the other piece without thinking. "Here, eat it."
But instead of taking it, he held her hand. And put the biscuit directly in his mouth, while even licking her finger. "Instead of giving it, you should feed me directly."
Priya blushed, but she nodded. And for the next few biscuits, she tore it and fed it. It was weird for a girl to do something with someone else, which they did not even know for even a month.
But Priya felt it was okay to feed Sharky with her own hands.
From the far corner of the room, Zainab had just walked in with her group of girls. She stopped dead when she saw the scene: Arahan and Priya standing close, sharing food, Priya in her skin-tight rehearsal clothes, Arahan looking at her like she was the only person in the world.
Zainab's arms crossed instantly. Her jaw tightened. She felt a sharp jealousy. She didn't know why, but she hated seeing Arahan smiling together with Priya.
She marched over to her girls, barking orders louder than necessary. "Come on, warm-up positions! We're not here to stand around!"
But her eyes kept darting back to Arahan and Priya.
Arahan caught Zainab's glare over Priya's shoulder and let the corner of his mouth lift in the most infuriating smirk.
Then he turned his full attention back to Priya.
"Ready to run the couple number?" he asked her.
Priya nodded, finishing the last sip of water. "Let's do it. From the top."
As they moved to the center, Arahan placed his hand on her waist, right where the leggings met bare skin at her lower back. The contact was warm, electric through the thin fabric.
And this time, when they started dancing, every touch felt a little heavier. A little more intentional.
---
The music looped back to the beginning, a slower, more intimate version of the track.
Priya reset her position in the center, rolling her shoulders to loosen up, the tight leggings stretching over her ass and thighs with every small movement.
Arahan stepped in behind her, placing his right hand exactly where the choreography called for: low on her waist, fingers splayed wide enough to feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her t-shirt.
This time, though, he didn't keep it strictly professional.
He pulled her back against him just a fraction more than necessary for the opening frame. Her ass brushed the front of his trousers, soft, unintentional at first, then lingering as they swayed into the first slow step.
Priya feels shy, she can feel that was inappropriate. But she didn't pull away. Her body settled into his hold, spine arching slightly so her breasts lifted toward the ceiling.
"You like it?" he murmured near her ear, voice low enough that only she could hear over the music.
Priya continuously blushed, but she nodded, "A little closer… for the turn."
Arahan obliged. His left hand slid up her arm to clasp hers, while his right dipped lower, thumb tracing the dip of her waist, then pressing flat against her lower abdomen just above the waistband of her leggings.
He could feel the subtle tremor in her muscles, the way her breathing quickened when his fingers flexed, pulling her flush against him for the slow hip roll.
They moved together: side step, turn, dip. In the dip he supported her fully, back arched over his arm, one of her legs hooking loosely around his thigh for balance.
Her core pressed directly against his growing hardness through their clothes. She felt it. Her eyes fluttered half-closed for a second before she opened them again, cheeks flushed deeper than from exertion alone.
When he brought her up, their faces ended inches apart. Her lips parted on a soft exhale. Arahan's thumb "accidentally" grazed the underside of her breast as he straightened her. Priya bit her lower lip, but she didn't step back.
"Better?" he asked quietly.
"Much better," she whispered back, voice a little husky.
They ran it twice more. Each time the touches grew bolder breaking the bounds of "choreography", his hand sliding down the curve of her hip during a spin, her fingers lingering on his chest when she faced him, their bodies grinding in slow motion during the romantic hold.
Sweat made her t-shirt cling transparently in places, nipples faintly visible now, dark points against white cotton. Arahan's trousers were uncomfortably tight, but he kept his face calm, focused, like this was just practice.
From the side of the room, Zainab watched every second.
Her arms were crossed so hard her knuckles whitened. Her girls kept shooting her worried glances, but she ignored them.
Every time Arahan's hand drifted lower on Priya's waist, every time Priya smiled up at him like that, something hot and bitter twisted in Zainab's chest. Jealousy.
She hated how Priya looked in those clothes. Hated how Arahan looked at her like she was the only girl in the world. Hated most of all that it bothered her this much.
Practice wrapped up twenty minutes later. Mrs. Sharma dismissed everyone. Priya grabbed her towel, still breathing hard, and shot Arahan a small, private smile before heading to change.
Arahan picked up his bag slowly, deliberately taking his time.
Zainab was already at the gate by the time he stepped out into the corridor. She was leaning against the wall, arms still crossed, foot tapping impatiently.
She pushed off the wall the second she saw him.
"Arahan."
He stopped, raising an eyebrow. "Zainab. Are you waiting for me?"
She stepped right into his space, close enough that he could smell her jasmine perfume mixed with the faint scent of chalk dust from the room.
"What the hell was that?" She hissed, voice low but shaking with fury. "You think you can just… paw at Priya like that in front of everyone? Grinding on her like some cheap street dancer? She's not one of your little playthings."
Arahan looked down at her calmly, that same devilish half-smile tugging at his lips. "I was dancing. Following her lead. She didn't seem to mind."
Zainab's eyes flashed with fury. "She's too nice to call you out. But I saw it, the way you touched her, the way you looked at her. You're doing this on purpose, just to get under her skin."
Arahan tilted his head, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. "Jealous, princess?"
The word hit her like a slap. Zainab's breath caught in her throat. Her face flushed from pink to blazing red.
"I'm not jealous," she snapped, but her voice cracked on the lie. "I just don't like seeing you act like a creep. Especially not with her."
Arahan stepped closer, until she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. His voice dropped to a low, intimate murmur that only she could hear.
"Then why are you standing here waiting for me instead of walking away? Why do your hands shake when you yell at me? And why…" He leaned in a fraction more, close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin. "…do you keep staring at my hands like you're remembering exactly where they were on her body… and wishing they were on yours?"
Zainab's lips parted. For a moment, no sound came out. Her chest rose and fell faster. She swallowed hard.
"You're disgusting," she finally managed, but the words sounded weak, even to her own ears.
Arahan chuckled softly, the sound low and dangerous. "Maybe. But you're still here."
He reached out slowly, giving her every chance to stop him, and brushed a stray strand of hair off her cheek with the back of his knuckles. Zainab flinched, but she didn't pull away.
For a long time they stood there inches apart, tension crackling between them like static electricity.
Then Zainab shoved him hard, right in the chest. "Stay away from her. She's a teacher. And also stay away from me."
She turned on her heel and stormed off down the corridor, ponytail swinging wildly, fists clenched at her sides.
Arahan watched her go, the devilish smile never leaving his lips.
---
The next day's rehearsal started later than usual, Mrs. Sharma had a staff meeting, so the room was already warm and dimly lit when Arahan walked in.
The ninth-grade girls were scattered around stretching, chatting in low voices. And then there was Priya.
She stood near the speaker, testing the playlist, and Arahan's steps faltered for half a second.
Today she'd gone even bolder.
A black sports bra, thin straps, deep V-neck plunging between her breasts, the fabric hugging and lifting them so every breath made them rise noticeably.
Below that, high-waisted bike shorts in shiny black lycra, so tight they outline the full, round shape of her ass, the cleft between her cheeks visible when she shifted weight, the smooth lines of her thighs flexing with every small movement.
A thin sliver of midriff showed between the two pieces, toned, glistening faintly with the first hints of sweat.
These types of dresses were not allowed in the school, but she brought them here and changed them. And also she is teacher, and even asked for the permission from Mrs. Shabnam. So, she allowed it.
Priya caught his eye and gave a small, almost shy smile, but there was a spark in it. Confidence. Like she knew exactly what she was doing and wanted him to notice.
"New outfit?" Arahan asked casually as he dropped his bag.
Priya shrugged one shoulder, ponytail swinging. "It's hot today. And… easier to move in. No one else minds." Her gaze flicked over him quickly. "You don't mind, right?"
"If I mind it, did you change the dress," He asked, teasing her.
Priya thought for a second, and said, "If you don't like it, I can change it."
Hearing it, Arahan became happy, he even understood that now Priya is ready to become his.
"Not at all. You look fucking incredible in these dresses, it just I want that no one can sees you in these clothes, except of me." Arahan replied, and his tone was a little possessive.
Priya didn't understand, complete meaning of his words, but hearing his compliment, she he bit her lip to hide the smile, cheeks warming. "Thank you. Let's just dance."