19. I'm Falling For You

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Ananya

Akshith and Yuvaan had left, their hurried departure leaving behind an eerie silence between Shaurya and me. I stood there, the setting sun casting a golden glow over the bustling market as I tried to steady my racing thoughts. Shaurya and I had wandered through the streets, lost in our own little world, until the sky began to fade, transitioning from soft hues of orange to the dusky purple of the evening. It felt as though time had slowed down, allowing me to savor the fleeting moments of this perfect day.

I pulled out my phone to text Shika about Akshith and Yuvaan. My fingers hovered over the screen as I waited for her response, my mind drifting back to Shaurya, who had been unusually quiet.

The soft vibration of my phone pulled me out of my reverie. I read Shika's message, saying Vikram will look after them till they reach the hotel safely.

But before I could respond, I felt his presence beside me—calm yet filled with an unspoken tension. Shaurya's voice, low and slightly unsure, broke the stillness. "Ananya, will you come to a place with me?"

I turned to face him, finding him standing just a few inches away, his posture tense, his hand slightly trembling as he brushed it through his hair. His eyes, usually so intense, now seemed almost vulnerable. Something was different.

I studied him, the nerves in his demeanor pulling at my heart. "Is everything alright?" I asked softly, my voice laced with concern. The nervous chuckle that escaped his lips only deepened the unease swirling inside me.

"I'm fine," he assured me, but the uncertainty in his eyes spoke volumes. "Just... follow me?"

The vulnerability in his gaze tugged at me in ways I couldn't explain. There was something about the way he asked, something raw and honest, that made my heart beat just a little faster. The trust between us had always been there, but now, it felt like it was deepening, like we were on the verge of something unspoken.

I nodded, unable to resist his silent plea. "Okay, I'll come."

A relieved smile bloomed on his face, a brief but beautiful moment of light in the tension that surrounded us. He turned, leading me to the parking lot, and I followed him without a second thought.

As we reached his bike, I felt my pulse quicken. Shaurya, ever the enigma, was a sight to behold—his quiet strength and the way he seemed to move through the world with effortless confidence. He handed me a helmet, his fingers brushing against mine for a fraction of a second, sending an unexpected shiver through me.

I slid the helmet over my head, the cool leather encasing me in its warmth. Shaurya adjusted his own helmet, his movements slow but deliberate, and then, without a word, he climbed onto the bike, waiting for me to join him.

I had no idea where Shaurya was taking me, but the cool evening breeze and the fading warmth of the sun made everything feel so serene, so... right. The road stretched before us, a ribbon of freedom that seemed to go on forever. My heart raced in the quiet intensity of the moment, and before I could stop myself, I leaned into him, my cheek resting softly against his back.

The closeness, the stillness of the world around us, and the steady hum of the engine under us felt... heavenly. In that moment, it was just him and me—nothing else mattered. I expected him to shift or pull away, maybe even comment on my sudden closeness, but instead, he did something that made my heart flutter in unexpected ways. Without a word, his hand reached up, warm and gentle, guiding mine to his torso.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second, my pulse quickening at the touch, but then, as if drawn by an invisible force, I wrapped my arms around him. The sensation of his body against mine, the warmth of his chest under my hands, felt so right, like I had always belonged here.

I pressed my cheek more firmly into his back, the leather of his jacket cool beneath my skin, and let my helmet fall to the side, my hair now free in the wind. With my eyes closed, I let myself sink deeper into the moment, letting the wind carry away the thoughts that were beginning to overwhelm me.

But even in this perfect serenity, there was something else—a pull, a yearning that I couldn't quite explain. Deep down, a part of me wasn't ready for this moment to end. I wasn't ready to leave him, to slip away from this closeness we had found.

I didn't know what this was between us, didn't understand the feelings stirring inside of me, but they were strong, undeniable. A part of me had always known something was different with Shaurya—the way he looked at me, the quiet intensity in his touch, the way he made me feel like the only person in the world. But now, with my arms around him, pressed so close, I couldn't ignore it anymore. There was a bond between us, unspoken and yet so real. It was more than just attraction. It was something deeper—something I wasn't ready to face, but couldn't deny.

My heart beat faster against his back, matching the rhythm of the bike, as the road blurred before us. In this moment, I wasn't just holding onto him physically—I was holding onto something I couldn't name, but it was there, pulsing between us, and I was too afraid to let go.

"We are here."

His voice sliced through the quiet, pulling me out of the trance I had slipped into. I hadn't even realized the tears had fallen until I felt the coolness of them against my skin. Hastily, I wiped them away, embarrassed, but the vulnerability in that simple gesture lingered in my chest. My heart raced as I stepped off the bike, my fingers trembling as I ran them through my hair, trying to regain some composure.

Shaurya put the bike on its stand, and I watched him remove his helmet, his movements almost mechanical—too controlled, too still. When he got off, I looked around, trying to piece together where we were.

We were in the middle of nowhere, it seemed—a forest, or something wild like that. The trees surrounded us in every direction, their shadows stretching long in the fading light of the evening. The quiet was deafening, broken only by the distant rustle of leaves and the soft lapping of water. I felt my pulse quicken, a mix of awe and unease swirling within me.

I turned to Shaurya, confusion written all over my face, and that's when I noticed it—the flicker of nervousness in his eyes. It was faint, but it was there, and it sent a ripple of unease through me. Not because I didn't trust him—no, it was something else. A quiet fear, one that had nothing to do with me but everything to do with him.

His lips curled into a small smile, trying to ease the tension between us, but it only deepened my concern. "I own this place," he said, a gesture sweeping towards the small house nestled at the edge of a lake, surrounded by nature. His words felt like a secret, whispered between us, but they also carried a weight I couldn't understand.

The house was breathtaking—modest yet perfect in its own way. It sat on the edge of a tranquil lake, the water reflecting the fading light of the sun like a mirror. I could feel the serenity of the place seeping into me, calming the frantic beating of my heart, but still, something about this whole situation felt...different.

Without another word, Shaurya extended his hand to me, his fingers outstretched, almost hesitant. I placed my hand in his without thinking, and for a moment, everything else faded—the tension, the fear, the questions. It was just us.

We walked together toward the door, and Shaurya unlocked it with a key I hadn't seen him bring. The sound of the door creaking open was surprisingly loud in the stillness, and I stepped inside, my senses immediately assaulted by the coziness of the space.

The living room was small but warm, and inviting. The soft glow of the lamps filled the room with a golden hue, making the wooden walls feel even more intimate. There was a couch in the center, a small kitchen attached to the side, and a dining table tucked near the windows. The space felt like it belonged to someone who cherished peace, someone who found solace in simplicity. But the thing that struck me the most was the staircase leading upstairs, and the photos of Shaurya and his family that lined the wall beside it.

I didn't need to ask the question on my mind. Shaurya must've sensed it, for he answered before I could open my mouth. "There's a bedroom with an attached bathroom upstairs." His voice was low, almost gentle, as though he was trying to make me feel comfortable.

I nodded, my thoughts still racing. I couldn't help but notice how the light from the windows played off the white curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. Everything about the cottage felt like a dream—beautiful, calm, almost surreal.

I looked at him, trying to gauge what this place meant to him. There was something deeply personal about it, something that went beyond the walls and windows. As I stood there, surrounded by the quiet of the space, I couldn't help but feel like I was stepping into a piece of his soul.

"Do you want water? I can't offer anything cold as there's no fridge here," Shaurya said, removing his jacket and draping it over the armrest of the couch. His movements were casual, but there was a quiet grace to them that I couldn't ignore. As he walked toward the kitchen, I couldn't help but watch him, a sense of wonder filling me.

I looked around the space, still trying to grasp the peace this place seemed to hold. The kitchen was simple yet inviting—there was a stove, a few cutlery pieces, and a cabinet stocked with vegetables and food items. The sight of the freshly stocked supplies made it feel even more personal, like this was a place he genuinely used and cared for.

"Do you have milk? I'll make coffee for us," I offered, and without missing a beat, Shaurya retrieved a bottle of milk from one of the cabinets. I felt a strange warmth settle in my chest as I turned on the stove, the soft click of the flame breaking the quiet.

He leaned against the kitchen counter, watching me intently, but not in a way that made me uncomfortable—instead, it felt like he was truly present, savoring this moment with me. I carefully poured the coffee powder into the pan, the smell of it filling the space, rich and comforting. It was such a simple thing, making coffee, yet it felt so... intimate.

The scent of the brewing coffee seemed to envelope the room, and I couldn't help but take a deep breath, inhaling the warmth that spread through me. Shaurya moved to the cabinet and took down two cups, his actions fluid, almost rehearsed. I filled both cups, handing him his, and as I did, I noticed the soft, amused smile playing on his lips. It was a small thing, but there was something about the way he looked at the cup that made my heart skip a beat. Why was he smiling at something so ordinary?

I brushed the thought aside, but the quiet smile lingered in my mind. We both walked back to the living room, settling into the couch. There was only one seat, so we found ourselves sitting side by side, the space between us so small, so intimate. I could feel the heat from his body seeping into mine, and a strange, almost electric tension filled the air.

I took a sip of my coffee, and instantly, I felt the warmth spread through me. The taste was perfect—the right balance of milk and sugar, just the way I loved it. It was the best coffee I had ever tasted, but I couldn't help the soft moan that threatened to escape my lips. I stopped myself at the last second, a small flush creeping up my neck as I silently cursed my own reaction.

"It's the best coffee of my life," Shaurya said, his voice a low, warm murmur, and I felt my cheeks heat up. His words, simple as they were, seemed to carry so much weight. I wanted to thank him, to say something meaningful, but my words got stuck, tangled in the strange, deep feeling that had taken root in my chest.

"Do you come here often, Shaurya?" I asked, the question escaping my lips before I could stop it. I turned to look at him, only to find that he was already looking at me. His gaze was steady, intense, like he was waiting for me to say something more.

"Yes, and we can come here whenever you want to," he replied, his voice low, like he was offering me something private, something special. The words settled in my chest, making my heart race a little faster. I just nodded, too shy to speak, my cheeks flushing a soft pink at the thought of being here alone with him, in this quiet, secluded place.

I caught the edge of a smile tugging at his lips from the corner of my eye, but I didn't dare to meet his gaze. The space between us was thick with unspoken words, with feelings we hadn't yet voiced.

A strand of hair fell across my face, and as I reached up to tuck it behind my ear, I felt his hand cover mine. The touch was gentle, but there was something electrifying about it, something that made my breath catch in my throat. My eyes shot up to his, and I found him looking at me with such intensity that it made my heart skip a beat.

Without a word, his fingers slid through the strands of my hair, pushing it back behind my ear, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary. His eyes never left mine, his gaze deep, like he was searching for something in me, or perhaps, letting me see something in him. The world around us seemed to fade, the only sound the beating of my heart, loud in my ears, drowning out everything else.

The tension between us was palpable, so thick that it almost hurt. I could feel it, crawling under my skin, making every nerve in my body come alive. He was close, too close, and yet I couldn't seem to pull away, couldn't bring myself to break the moment. Every inch of me was aware of him, of the way his hand was still hovering near my face, of the heat radiating between us.

"Wh...why did you bring me here?" I stammered, the words slipping from my lips as my heartbeat quickened, pounding in my chest like it was trying to escape. The nervousness mingled with excitement, twisting inside me, tightening my stomach into a knot. As if sensing the turmoil within me, Shaurya moved a little closer. The couch beside me dipped, and my breath hitched at the shift in the space between us.

"I wanted to spend some time with you, alone," he murmured, his voice barely audible, the words almost like a secret meant only for me. The way he whispered the last word, so soft and intimate, sent a shiver down my spine. The warmth of his breath brushed against my ear, and every nerve in my body seemed to come alive. Goosebumps rose on my skin, the heat inside me intensifying. I could feel every inch of him near me, my body responding to his presence in ways I didn't fully understand.

"Wh...why?" I managed to whisper, my voice betraying me, trembling under the weight of his proximity. My fingers fisted the fabric of my kurti, a futile attempt to steady myself. His thighs brushed against mine, a touch so subtle but so electric that it stole the air from my lungs. His forearm brushed against mine, and I felt him closing in, leaving no space between us. I had felt these urges before, when we were close, but now, with him this near, my entire body went into overdrive. My throat felt dry, my pulse racing, and I was suddenly too aware of how badly I wanted him.

"Tell me you don't want to spend time with me, we will leave" his voice dropped lower, husky, just for me, his words brushing against my ear like a caress. I could feel the unevenness in his breathing, and it mirrored my own. My hands trembled, gripping the fabric of my kurti tighter, but somehow, I didn't want to pull away. I wanted this closeness, even if it was making me lose control. I was scared, but excited in a way that felt almost wrong.

"I...I didn't...didn't say that," I stammered, my voice barely a whisper, the words fighting to come out as I licked my dry lips. My mouth was parched, my throat tight, but I couldn't bring myself to look away from him. When I finally raised my gaze and locked eyes with him, something shifted. His eyes were dark, and intense, like they were pulling me into a world I wasn't ready to enter. But I couldn't look away. The magnetism between us was undeniable, and the proximity, the way his body was so close to mine, made my heart race out of control. I didn't know what to do, how to breathe, or what to say. All I could focus on was him, his presence, and the overwhelming desire I felt, pounding through every inch of me.

His breaths were now warm against my cheeks, the air between us thick with unspoken words and the weight of the moment. The distance between us was so small, I could feel the heat radiating off of him, and every exhale from him seemed to stir something within me. My eyes fluttered shut for a moment as his rough, calloused palms cupped my cheeks, the sensation sending a ripple of heat through me. The warmth of his touch contrasted against the softness of my skin, making my pulse race.

My hands moved almost instinctively, sliding up to rest on his forearms, fisting the fabric of his shirt, unable to ignore the way his presence was consuming me. I felt the air around us grow heavier, the world outside fading as his lips, those pink, inviting lips, hovered so close. My breath caught as his lips neared my forehead, the gentle touch making my heart skip a beat. I didn't want to move, didn't want to break this moment, yet my body betrayed me, yearning for more.

He moved closer, his body pressing against mine, and with every inch he reduced the distance, my breath became shallower, more desperate. My thighs instinctively clenched together, the pressure building, a mix of anticipation and desire that left me feeling almost dizzy. I could feel the overwhelming weight of his presence, his heat, his need.

"Go upstairs before I lose my control, Ananya," his voice was low, a husky whisper that vibrated against my skin, sending a jolt straight to my core. His lips brushed against my forehead, and I swore my mind went blank, numb to everything but the intensity of the moment. I couldn't think, couldn't move. All I could focus on was him, and the pull between us was magnetic.

"Then lose it," the words slipped from my lips, more bold than I'd ever thought I could be. A rush of adrenaline surged through me, and suddenly, my hands were moving, trailing from his elbows to his shoulders, then around his neck. The weight of his touch, the way his hands slid down my back, was enough to send me into a frenzy of longing. My body pressed against his, unable to break free from the magnetic force that tethered us together.

I felt him pull me closer, our bodies fitting together in a way that felt both natural and electrifying. My hands tightened around his neck as I rested my head in the crook of his, our breaths mingling. His heart beat in time with mine, a steady rhythm that seemed to synchronize our souls. In that moment, I wasn't sure where I ended and he began.

His hands trailed lower, the heat of his touch moving across my back before he cupped my asscheeks, and I gasped, the shock of his touch sending a shockwave of sensation through me. Without a word, he lifted me effortlessly, his strength both surprising and comforting, and I was suddenly straddling him, my legs wrapped around his hips, my front pressed against his, leaving no room for doubt about the intensity of our connection. His hands, firm and possessive, held me against him, as if afraid I might slip away.

Every inch of our bodies was pressed together, the heat, the desire, the need, it all felt so overwhelming. But still, I couldn't stop myself. Every nerve in my body screamed for him, for this closeness, for more. But I couldn't find the words, so I let my actions speak, tightening my hold around his neck as I let my body melt into his.

His hands slid from my backside to my waist, his touch sending a shiver down my spine as he pressed his hands into the curves of my body. A soft gasp escaped my lips, and I couldn't help but lean into him, my breath quickening. I pulled away from his neck slowly, meeting his gaze, and there it was again—those eyes, dark and filled with an intensity that made my heart race.

My lips trembled as his gaze pierced through me, almost as though he could read my every thought. My tongue unconsciously darted out to wet my lips, and I saw him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing as if he, too, couldn't fight the attraction between us. It was as if a magnetic pull between us was growing stronger with every passing second. I wanted to kiss his Adam's apple. I wanted to suck on it.

His hand gently cupped my face, tilting it ever so slightly, bringing me closer, his other hand still on my waist but now slipping beneath the fabric of my kurthi, his fingers brushing lightly against my skin. The touch was electric, sending goosebumps in its wake.

I fisted the fabric of his shirt above his shoulders, feeling his warmth, his strength, wanting more of it. As he moved closer, the space between us evaporated, my breath hitching in anticipation. My eyes fluttered shut, waiting for the kiss I thought was inevitable, but instead, his lips landed gently on my right cheek, pressing a soft kiss there. His other hand traced my cheek with the gentlest caress, sending a wave of heat rushing through my body.

I stayed frozen for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest, unsure whether to pull him closer or let the moment unfold. The tenderness of his kiss on my cheek made something inside me ache, the softness contrasting with the intensity of everything else between us. But still, I wanted more.

He pulled back slightly, and I felt a strand of my hair catch on his stubble. The sight of him, his jawline shadowed by the mess of tangled hair, only made him look even more irresistible. I could hardly breathe as he leaned in again, this time kissing my left cheek, soft and lingering. Then, his lips moved down to my jawline, each kiss igniting a trail of warmth that sent shivers through my body.

My hands, almost of their own accord, moved from his fingers to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. My head tilted back as his kisses awakened something deep within me—something I wasn't sure I was ready for, but at the same time, I craved it.

His hand left my cheek and moved slowly to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair and gripping my nape with a firm yet tender hold. The pressure sent a rush of heat through me, making me gasp. His lips hovered over mine, our foreheads gently touching, breaths mingling in the space between us. My eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the closeness, the intensity, and the electric pull between us.

"Open your eyes, Anya," he commanded, his voice low and filled with a kind of quiet power that made a shiver run down my spine. The words sent a surge of warmth through me, and despite myself, my core responded.

"Anhh..." A soft moan escaped my lips as his fingers pinched the side of my waist, sending jolts of sensation through me. He caressed the skin with his knuckles, repeating his words. This time, I obeyed, opening my eyes.

Our gazes locked, and I could see the heat in his eyes, a fire that matched the one burning within me. But there was something more—something deeper—that made my heart skip. There was a vulnerability there, a feeling I feared to name: love. His eyes held a sincerity that left me breathless.

"I started falling for you, Ananya," he confessed, his voice steady but filled with emotion. My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, everything around us faded away. My grip around his neck tightened, as if afraid the world would slip away if I didn't hold on.

"Are you sure you're not saying this in the heat of the moment?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, afraid of what this revelation might mean.

His eyes never left mine, and he shook his head slowly, firmly.

"I'm physically attracted to you, yes. But more than that, Ananya, I'm emotionally drawn to you. I'm sure about my feelings for you. I can see a future with you," he said, his words seeping into my soul like a balm. My heart fluttered in my chest, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. Just hours ago, I was crying, unsure of where we stood. And now, here he was, confessing everything I'd secretly longed to hear.

The happiness that had bloomed in my chest faltered when the realization hit me like a crushing weight. He is falling for the Ananya he met as a host—the version of me that wasn't real. I'm not her. I'm an agent, playing a part. The interviews, the dresses, the questions, everything—none of it was genuine. What if he finds out? Will he still love me when he knows the truth?

I pulled my hands from his neck and stood up, distancing myself from him. Why did it have to be this way? I couldn't tell him the truth—not when he's been falling for someone I'm not. The fear gnawed at me. What if, in the future, he can't accept the real me? What if he resents me for all the lies?

I walked upstairs, my movements robotic, as if my body were detached from the overwhelming storm inside me. I could hear him calling my name, but it sounded distant, muffled by the rising panic in my chest. My eyes blurred with tears, and I couldn't bear for him to see me break down.

I stumbled into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Collapsing onto the floor, I hugged my knees to my chest, my sobs filling the silence. I cried until there was nothing left, the tears becoming dry, my body drained.

When I finally gathered enough strength to stand, I washed my face and walked out, but the house was eerily silent. Where was Shaurya? Panic surged through me. Was he safe? What if something happened to him? What if someone took him?

Fear clutched at my heart as I dashed downstairs, calling his name frantically. "Shaurya!" My voice cracked, but there was no response. I ran to the door and threw it open, searching the yard. The quiet night seemed to stretch endlessly in front of me, but he was nowhere to be found.

Without thinking, I sprinted into the jungle, calling his name, my chest tightening with every passing second.

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