𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 || 18+ ✔

𝟕. || 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝.

Sara's POV:

Here’s the refined version with added details to enhance the emotional depth and atmosphere:

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Arush holds my hand tightly as he drags me with him. His grip is firm, and I can feel the tension radiating off him, but I’m not sure why. Is it because I was distracted for just a bit? The music, the crowd—it was easy to get lost in the moment, to forget myself.

I’m drunk, I know that much. The world feels hazy, and everything’s a little too loud, too bright. I danced with some random guy… Actually, he’s not so random. It’s Rohit. I remember him now, smiling, being charming in that harmless way. But Arush? What’s he doing right now? He was always so nice to me, patient even. Why is he acting like this?

My heels sink into the grass, and I gasp, stumbling slightly. Arush turns his head, looking over his shoulder at me, his dark gaze locking onto mine as he lets go of my hand.

"Struggling?" he asks, his voice deceptively soft, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes—a flash of anger he doesn’t bother hiding.

Before I can even form a response, he moves closer, leaning in with a suddenness that startles me. One moment I’m standing there, trying to catch my breath, and the next I’m lifted off the ground. His strong arms wrap around me—one behind my back, the other under my knees—as he hoists me effortlessly into his embrace.

"Arush!" I gasp, my voice coming out breathy, betraying my shock. "What… What are you doing?"

He doesn’t answer right away, but his grip tightens as if he’s afraid I might try to pull away. My head rests against his shoulder, and I can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat through his chest, strong and unyielding. My lips accidentally brush against his neck as he carries me, and his cologne fills my senses, heady and intoxicating.

He feels so solid, so strong against me, and it stirs something deep inside, a familiar sensation I’ve been trying to suppress. He affects me in a way no one else ever has. It’s confusing—how he makes me feel protected and irritated all at once, how his very presence can leave me flustered, completely off balance.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask, my voice shaky.

He smiles then, a slow, deliberate curve of his lips that makes my heart stutter. He pushes open a door and steps into a dimly lit room.

“What are we doing here?” My voice is barely a whisper now, the gravity of the situation sinking in as the door closes behind us. The air in the room feels heavy, charged with something I can’t quite name. My pulse quickens.

Arush doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he sets me down gently, but the moment my feet touch the ground, he steps in close—too close. I instinctively take a step back, only to feel the cool, unyielding surface of the wall press against my back. Trapped.