Rudra slid behind the wheel, the city lights streaking past as he started the engine. Normally, driving home was a mundane ritual — numbers, meetings, and strategy running through his mind. Tonight, though, every thought returned to Ayaan.
The ghostly hug. The soft, shy words. The warmth of his hand.
Rudra exhaled slowly, gripping the steering wheel just a bit tighter than usual. He felt… strangely flustered. A shiver of embarrassment ran through him. Not from danger. Not from confrontation. But from a soft, small café owner who had dared to touch him — gently, innocently, but leaving a mark on a side of him no one had ever seen.
He's… so bold, yet so nervous, Rudra admitted silently. And I… I can't stop thinking about it.
For a man used to control, to commanding fear and respect from every corner of the corporate world, this feeling was alien. Vulnerable. Dangerous, in its own quiet way.
Rudra's mind replayed the hug in detail — how Ayaan's arms had barely reached around him, the slight tremor in his fingers, the nervous, flushed smile. Rudra swallowed, a faint warmth rising in his chest.
He exhaled again. Quietly. Slowly. And for a moment, he allowed himself to imagine Ayaan here beside him — not rushing away, not flustered, just… there.
The car's hum filled the silence as Rudra drove on, dark eyes flicking to the rearview mirror, thinking about the boy who had managed, in just a brief moment, to make him feel flustered, shy, and strangely… alive.
No one in the office. No one in the boardroom. Not even his family. No one knew this side of Rudra Malhotra.
Only him, Rudra thought, a faint, private smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
And the thought made him grip the wheel a little tighter, heart a little faster, and yet… feel something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years: anticipation.
Anticipation for the next encounter. The next touch. The next quiet moment where someone could see all the layers he never lets anyone see.
The city lights blurred as he drove on, carrying both the weight of empire and the delicate, fragile warmth of a shy, small café owner who had just rewritten the rules of his private world.
To be continued...