Chapter 9: An intruder in her room

 Roshni sat cross-legged on the floor, a soft cushion beneath her and her sketchbook balanced gently on her lap.

Her long hair was tied in a loose braid, a few strands escaping to brush against her cheeks.

One hand held a fine-tip pencil, dancing in quiet focus as she traced the delicate curves of a new design—a ring this time, inspired by the swirl of a flame.

She wasn’t in a hurry.

She bit her lip gently as she added tiny gemstone patterns to the edges of a ring sketch.

The silence of her room was comforting—just the rustle of the pencil, the distant hum of the fan, and the occasional buzz of her thoughts… all circling around one name.

Her strokes were patient, her fingers steady… but her eyes—they betrayed her calm.

Every few minutes, without even realizing, she would glance at her phone lying just beside the sketchbook.

The screen was dark. No new notifications.

No new messages.

Nothing from him.

It had been hours.

A part of her kept trying to convince herself — “He’s busy. Maybe he fell asleep. Maybe he’s not thinking about me anymore.”

But the other part…

the quieter, more vulnerable one…

simply missed him.

She sighed, tossed the pencil aside and leaned back, staring at the ceiling for a moment.

Then she glanced at the time. 11:02 PM.

Okay, enough of this.

Time to sleep, she told herself.

She began packing her sketchpad away, placing her pencil neatly on the bedside table, and stretching lazily as she stood.

She had just taken a few steps toward the switchboard when—

Tap. Tap.

A sound.

Soft.

From the balcony.

She froze.

No. It wasn’t her imagination. It was real.

A delicate knock—like knuckles gently brushing against the glass of her French window.

Her heart dropped to her stomach.

The curtains swayed slightly, as if stirred by the night itself.

Another knock.

This time firmer.

Real.

She stood slowly, pulse thudding against her skin like a warning—or was it anticipation?

Barefoot, breath shallow, she walked toward the window.

Her hands reached for the curtain, every nerve in her body awake.

She pulled it aside—

And gasped.

There he was.

Rudra.

Standing outside her French window, in a black shirt, sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly messy, like he’d run a thousand thoughts through it.

His eyes—those damn eyes—locked onto hers like magnets.

Intense.

Burning.

Unapologetic.

Her lips parted in disbelief.

Then, with a subtle raise of his eyebrows, he motioned for her to open the slider.

She opened the latch with trembling fingers, slid the door open slowly, the cool breeze brushing past her skin as his scent slipped in with it — sharp, familiar, maddening.

“aa_aap?”, she whispered, unsure if she was dreaming.

He didn’t say anything.

Just stepped in.

One step.

Then another.

He was inside now, in her room, and she was still holding the edge of the curtain like an anchor.

Their eyes met in the dim light.

She didn’t know what to do — whether to step back, whether to move closer.

How could he just climb up to her balcony like that?

Is he is some roadside Romeo, or what! reckless and utterly sure of himself.

“What if you'd fallen?”, she whispered, almost to herself.

“What if someone had seen you?”, Her voice trembled with concern more than anger.

Finally, she found her voice again.

“Why are you here?”, she finally asked.

“You order me to come here….”

“What?wh…when did i…?

“Check your last message! I miss you”

Did he just come because I was missing him…just like a romantic hero!

“I—”, she stammered.

“I came to make sure you meant it.”

She looked down nervously, softly, then looked up at him again, her voice lower now.

“Rudra, you can’t just show up like this…”

“I know, but I can’t promise”, he said, stepping closer.

He reached out then—slowly, deliberately—and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

His fingers brushed her skin, lingering for just a second too long.

“I felt it”, he said.

“Like a pull in my chest. Like you were calling me without a sound.”

Rudra chuckled, his voice low and warm.

Bending down to her level…

eye to eye…

“Well, careful next time. I’m dangerously obedient when you whisper my name.”

The spell was cast…

she was losing herself……

And just before she will fall completely….

to escape from his intensity…

she shifted the topic

“ummm.. i was just sketching a ring” 

He knew what she was doing… but just to let her off the hook for a few moments, he glanced at the small ring sketch lying open on her bedside table.

“Let me see,” he said, walking past her, and she followed.

He picked up the sketchbook and studied it with quiet appreciation.

“This one… is beautiful”, he said, running his thumb just above the design without touching it.

“It’s fierce… like fire trapped in gold.”

She looked at him, surprised. “You understand design?”

He didn’t take his eyes off the page. “Hmm”

She stepped closer, eyes curious. “What do you do, Rudra?”

He looked up at her now, his gaze unreadable. “What do you think I do?”

She shrugged, almost teasing. “Drive around in expensive cars. Wear black shirts like it’s a uniform. Show up at girl’s windows late night.”

That made him chuckle. “Sounds dangerously accurate.”

Her smile softened, curious now. “No, seriously. I barely know anything about you.”

His eyes held hers — that intense, smoldering stillness.

“You want to know me, Roshni?”

She nodded slowly.

He stepped forward, erasing the little space left between them.

“Then let me show you my world…”

Her breath caught at this closeness.

She turned her back, unable to handle the storm in his eyes.

He reached for her hand — fingers grazing, then fully locking with hers.

“But not tonight,” he whispered, pulling her gently until her back rested against his chest.

“Tonight, I want to live in yours.”

His arms slid around her waist, slow and sure, pulling her close.

Her breath hitched as he dipped his head, voice brushing against her ear like velvet.

“This room… these sketches… the scent of your shampoo…that Jasmin plant in your balcony…

this is just a part of your world, isn’t it?”

“Will you let me in.. for more ..Roshni….”

She could only nod..

His other hand’s fingers wandered from her wrist, brushing up the length of her arm like a whisper,

Slowly.

Intentionally.

until they reached the delicate curve where her shoulder met her neck.

He paused there, his thumb drawing lazy circles against her skin.

She leaned back slightly, her pulse wild.

Her hands resting over his palm which is firmly circling her west.

He bent lower and pressed a kiss to her shoulder — gentle, but far from innocent.

She closed her eyes, lips parting, heart crashing against her ribs.

Another kiss — to the base of her neck.

Then one just beneath her ear.

She trembled.

And that’s when he whispered, voice low and raspy against her skin,

“Is this… too fast for you?”

A pause.

Her breath caught.

She was not able to make any sound …..

He exhaled deeply, a soft sigh against her shoulder—like he was holding back something wild.

“Trust me, Roshni…”, he murmured, pressing another kiss just beneath her ear, “it’s painfully slow for me.”

She blushed and turn around and hug him…as the warmth of Rudra's embrace lingered, Roshni rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear.

She had never felt so alive, so aware of every breath, every shift in the air, every flutter in her chest.

She held him tighter, as if grounding herself in the reality of the moment, though part of her feared he might vanish if she let go.

“You shouldn't open your balcony windows, Roshni,” he murmured.

She pulled back just slightly, lifting her head to look up at him.

“People like me find a way in.”

“And then what happens?”, she whispered.

He smiled, slow and devastating.

“Then they forget how to leave.”

She smiled…shaking her head at his relentless flirting...

“Rudra...”, she began, her voice soft, almost uncertain. “Did you... have dinner?”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her forehead in a tender, lingering kiss.

“I’ll eat later. Right now, I’m more interested in hearing about your plans for tomorrow.”

"I don't have anything special planned," she said softly. "Maybe just finishing some drawings, netflix ... you know, the usual."

He tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“Would you let me steal you away for a while, Roshni? Just a few hours, to make sure you don’t drown in your sketches... or your thoughts about me.”

"Steal me away?", she repeated

“Yes, someone is hugging me right now, but she doesn’t even know anything about me except my name…”

“Let me show you myself a little… haq banta he tumhara.””

[It’s your right…]

“I…” she trailed off, her mind swirling with possibilities.

The uncertainty lingered, but there was a part of her, a bold, daring part, that wanted to say yes.

" I’ll have to lie to aunty,” she murmured still little hesitant.

He gently cupped her face, lifting her chin so she would meet his gaze.

"Say yes, Roshni.”

“ Just say yes."

She thought for a moment and then nodded.

Rudra’s smile deepened, satisfaction and something else—possessiveness, perhaps—flashing across his features.

He pulled her back into his embrace, holding her close, savouring the warmth of the moment.

“My Good Girl”, he whispered.

His hand brushed against her chick as he gave her a small, contented smile. "It’s a date, then."

They stood there in silence, wrapped around each other like the night around stars.

After a few long moments, she whispered softly, her voice brushing his chest,
“You should head back now… it’s late.”

“Yeah, I should…”, he murmured, but made no effort to move away.

His arms stayed around her, gentle yet firm.

Two more minutes passed in the quiet hum of their embrace.

“Rudra…”

“Roshni…”

They said each other’s names at the same time—softly, like a secret only the night was meant to hear.

He smiled into her hair. “We’re going to keep doing this, aren’t we?”

She looked up slightly. “What?”

“Standing still, saying nothing, and yet feeling everything.”

Her cheeks flushed as her gaze dropped again.

He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head.

“Tomorrow,” he said, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes.

“Be ready by 11. Wear something light…rest I will message you tomorrow”

She nodded shyly; eyes gleaming.

He walked toward the balcony, pausing at the glass door.

Turning back, he added, “And Roshni?”

“Hmm?”

“I almost forgot…”, he said, voice casual but laced with something unspoken.

“I really love this T-shirt of yours.”

Her brows knit in confusion at first—but before she could respond, he gave her a slow, knowing wink and walked away.

The door clicked shut behind him.

For a heartbeat, she stood frozen.

Then, instinctively, her eyes dropped to the soft baby blue fabric clinging to her skin.

Realization hit her like a wave.

Her mouth parted slightly.

Oh…

my …

God…

She rushed to the mirror, heart pounding.

There it was—subtle but unmistakable under the soft room light.

The outline, the way the fabric sat just a little too naturally.

She wasn’t wearing a bra.

Her cheeks turned a deep crimson as her hands flew to cover herself, even though she was alone.

Did he notice?

Of course, he noticed.!!!

That smug, wicked smile...

How she will face him tomorrow …

She buried her face in her hands, a flurry of embarrassment and something warmer stirring in her chest.