For a moment… everything just… stopped.

Not for her—but for me.

Myra was above me, and I was beneath her. Her face was so close to mine that I could feel the warmth of her breath. For the first time, my eyes traced her features from such an impossible closeness, as if trying to memorize every little detail.

One of her hands rested over my chest, right above my heart, while the other was trying to reach past me for the book. And my hand… it had found its place on her waist, almost instinctively.

My breaths had turned uneven—I could hear them, feel them, each one louder than the last.

I had already admitted to myself that something inside me was changing… and this moment, this closeness, was proving it all over again.

As she stretched further to grab the book, my gaze unintentionally slipped to her neck… and then lower, where the mangalsutra carrying my name rested against her skin.

I immediately averted my eyes.

I gulped.

But when she leaned even more, pressing her palms firmly against my chest for support, her hand slipped through the slight opening of my shirt—right past the first two undone buttons.

That was it.

The dam I had been holding back… broke.

Her touch—right over my heart—felt like a sudden current running through me.

This is now My favorite place where I want her to touch me....

My eyes shut tightly, and without realizing, my grip around her waist tightened.

“Stop, Myra… please,” I said in a low, strained voice, my face turned away, eyes still closed.

And she stopped instantly.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” she asked softly, leaning closer to my face. Her hair brushed against my skin, hovering, teasing my senses.

Slowly, I turned my face toward her.

Maybe she felt it too… this sudden, undeniable closeness between us. Her gaze dropped to her hand resting on my chest… then to our position.

And just like that, her face flushed—a deep, undeniable red.

She quickly pulled her hand away and tried to get up in a hurry.

But in that attempt… she lost balance and fell right back onto me.

This time, her face collided with my chest.

“Ouch!” she exclaimed.

“Oh God—Myra!” I reacted at the same time, my eyes squeezing shut again.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said hurriedly, trying to get up again—but this time, I stopped her.

She stayed where she was.

I moved the book aside, placing it on the bed, and then, holding her by the waist with both hands… I shifted us.

In one smooth motion, I turned us around.

She gasped.

Now… she was beneath me.

And I was above her.

My breath completely hitched.

What he had just done… I didn’t know why, but for the first time in my life, I felt butterflies erupt in my stomach—something I had never felt for anyone before.

And now, being this close to him… it was only making things worse.

I had never seen Virat from such a close distance before.

His eyes… they felt troubled somehow, intense—yet they were fixed on me.

He was above me.

And we were both just… staring at each other.

His one hand was still wrapped around my waist, holding me in place,and another one balanced hil .While my own hands had instinctively settled over his chest. His shirt had ridden up slightly.

From there, I could see the platinum chain peeking out from beneath his shirt.

Three of his buttons were now undone—thanks to me.

And from that opening, I could faintly make out the lines of his chest.

“What are you looking at, Myra?” he asked softly.

My eyes snapped back to his, and instantly, embarrassment flooded through me. My ears burned hot.

“Nothing… nothing,” I stammered.

“Oh really? Then what were you peeking at?” he teased.

My eyes widened in shock.

“That’s not what I was doing,” I defended quickly.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” I said, forcing an awkward smile.

His gaze shifted—from my face to the nuptial chain around my neck… and then back to me.

A smirk tugged at his lips.

“Alright… I’ll believe you.”

Neither of us moved.

Not him. Not me.

His eyes stayed fixed on me, carrying that same charming smile—and because of that, I had to lower my gaze. I didn’t know why, but everything felt… strange.

He was over me. So close. His hands were still on my waist. His eyes were locked onto mine.

And yet… I didn’t feel uncomfortable.

Not even for a second did I feel like pushing him away.

If it had been anyone else, I would have broken their hands, shoved them away for even coming this close.

But Virat…?

I couldn’t do any of that.

And I didn’t even know why.

Gathering a bit of courage, I decided to return his question.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up at him again.

With a tight-lipped smile, I asked,

“Now what are you looking at, Mr. Oberoi?”

His gaze traced my face slowly, intently… before he answered,

"Aapko ,Miss Srivastava"

(You, Miss Srivastava.)

My heart skipped a beat.

That tight-lipped smile disappeared instantly.

I had thought I would get my revenge by making him feel embarrassed… but instead, I was the one losing control.

I couldn’t say a word.

I just stared at him, lips slightly parted.

He glanced at my open mouth… and then said,

“Why is your mouth open, Myra? Want me to take a look inside too?"

I instantly pressed my lips together tightly.

My breath hitched.

I was damn sure my entire face had turned red from embarrassment.

Is this really Viraat?

How is he even saying things like this to me?

A smirk formed on his lips after noticing my reaction.

Without wasting a second, I pushed hard against his chest, making him move off me. He shifted to my side, and I quickly got up.

My breaths were uneven.

I turned towards him, my eyebrows furrowed.

My eyes were sharp.

And my lips tightened.

"What kind of things are you saying?" I asked, my voice laced with light frustration.

"What kind of things?" he replied casually, placing one hand behind his head while the other rested lazily on the bed beside him.

"The kind you just said."

"What exactly did I say, Myra? Tell me," he asked teasingly.

"You know it..."

"I don't. You should tell me."

"That... that thing about looking into my mouth."

"So?" he raised one eyebrow.

"So what? Who even says things like that?"

"I do," he said shamelessly.

I closed my eyes in frustration, my cheeks still warm.

"I know. I just saw that," I gritted my teeth.

"Then what's the problem?" I opened my eyes.

"The problem is... you... you can't say things like that."

"But I only said it... I didn’t do anything," he replied innocently. Fake innocence.

"You can’t do that either," I said, making a face.

"Why? Does your mouth smell Foul?" he asked with that same charming smile.

I stared at him in disbelief.

Oh God, how is he talking so much today…

Actually, not just today. I’ve been noticing it for a few days now… he keeps finding excuses to tease me.

And somehow, this teasing always leaves me blushing.

"Maybe yours does. I brush twice a day, okay? My mouth doesn’t smell—it’s fragrant. If you don’t believe me, come check," I said, gesturing confidently and rolled my eyes .

He chuckled.

"That’s exactly what I was going to do before you pushed me away."

I was completely frustrated now.

Embarrassment, shyness, irritation—everything combined, making my face feel even warmer.

And my eyes were fixed on him.

This time, he didn’t say anything.

He just laughed.

Laughed a lot.

Slowly, all the frustration faded from my face.

Why?

Because of his laughter.

I already knew his smile was beautiful… but I never realized that when he laughed openly like this, he looked even more… beautiful.

My eyes softened, filled with admiration.

I felt good.

Because I was the reason behind his laughter.

He does so much for me.

At least I can do this much for him.

He loves his family deeply, yet he stands up for me.

Whenever I’m wrong, he explains things to me gently.

Whenever I speak, he supports me.

He was even ready to leave this house… for me.

Yes, I know everything.

It was three days after my bookshelf arrived. Or I'll say he bought that for me .

Someone from my family—The family I have completely left behind—Mrs. Srivastava, had called me.

At first, I didn’t pick up.

But after five or six calls, I finally did.

And the moment I answered… I regretted it, yet felt relieved at the same time.

Regret—because she immediately started scolding me and calling me names .

But in between all that, she told me everything.

How Viraat had gone to my parents’ house just to bring my books.

How he had hit my so-called brother because he insulted me—an insult my own mother didn’t even consider wrong.

How he stood up for my respect.

Hearing all that… made me incredibly happy.

It made me feel… that someone exists who can defend me even in my absence.

I also found out that he had talked about leaving the house.

But I don’t want that.

I can’t leave this house right now… not at all.

And I have my reasons.

I wanted him to talk to me about it.

But Viraat never mentioned that day… not even once.

He doesn’t even know that I know everything.

And maybe that’s why…

I want to do anything that brings even a little happiness to him.

And right now… seeing him laugh like this…

My heart felt so peaceful.

Suddenly, he stood up, still smiling.

My eyes followed his face, and a soft smile appeared on mine too.

He came and stood close to me.

My hands hung straight at my sides.

"Okay, okay, my little fighter… you win, I lose," he said, lightly holding his ears in mock surrender.

Instantly, my smile widened.

"Good. That fear should stay," I replied playfully, crossing my arms.

He suddenly leaned down to my level, closing the distance between us. His arms locked behind his back.

"And about that fragrance… I already know it… and I accept it too. You are very… fragrant, Myra Srivastava,...Very Much ." he whispered in a deep voice, his eyes locked intensely with mine.

Again.

I blushed instantly.

Not even a second passed.

A strange sensation fluttered in my stomach, and without realizing, my hand moved to my stomach.

I looked at him… surprised.

He was becoming so straightforward now.

Why? What changed?

He took a few steps back, that teasing smile still lingering on his lips.

"Next time, don’t get so lost in your 'shameless Content' books… that I have to read them myself to see what’s so special there."

And with that, he turned and walked into the bathroom.

Trying to steady myself, I called out,

"That’s not shameless Content—it’s called smut!"

"Whatever, My—" he paused, turning back towards me, "little shameless fighter."

He smirked… and disappeared inside, closing the door.

And I stood there.

Frozen.

Why couldn’t I say anything back?

But then…

A small smile formed on my lips again.

"My little shameless f

ighter… it’s not that bad… My decent man," I whispered to myself.

My decent man.

Totally ironical now.

He isn’t decent anymore.

He is more shameless than me.....

And a part of me is loving this version of him.

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

Thank you so much for Reading ❤️

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