The Silent Seduction

14. MAHIRA

The evening had left me with a lingering tension that I couldn’t quite shake off. The unexpected turn of events had taken a toll on me, and as I stood by my car, I felt an unusual fatigue weighing me down.

The rain had started to fall heavier, the droplets cold as they splattered against my skin. The sky was dark, the clouds hanging low and heavy, threatening an even greater downpour.

I had turned to unlock my car when my vision blurred, my mind foggy from exhaustion and perhaps the effects of the drink.

My legs wobbled, unsteady beneath me, and before I could catch myself, I felt strong hands on my waist, steadying me.

It was Arjun.

His grip was firm, yet there was an unexpected gentleness in the way he held me, as though he were afraid I might break. His touch sent a shiver through me, one that had nothing to do with the cold rain.

For a moment, I was too stunned to react. The feel of his hand on my waist, the way his fingers pressed into my skin just enough to keep me upright—it was strangely intimate.

My heart pounded in my chest, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through me despite the cold.

When I looked up at him, his eyes met mine, dark and intense, holding a depth that I couldn’t quite decipher.

There was something there, something that flickered in the depths of his gaze—a mix of concern, confusion, and something else, something that sent another shiver down my spine.

“Are you okay?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, barely audible over the sound of the rain.

I nodded, though I wasn’t entirely sure if I was. “I’m fine… just tired, I guess.” My words felt hollow, as though they were meant to reassure myself more than him.

He hesitated, his gaze still locked with mine, before he finally spoke. “Let me help you.”

Before I could protest, he guided me toward the backseat of the car, his hand still on my waist. The heat of his touch seeped through my clothes, and I couldn’t help but notice how the rain clung to his hair, dark strands plastered against his forehead.

It was only when I was safely seated in the car that he let go, stepping back to close the door behind me. But the sensation of his touch lingered, a ghostly imprint on my skin that refused to fade.

As the driver started the car, and we drove home through the rain-soaked streets, the memory of his hand on my waist replayed in my mind, over and over again, until it became an endless loop that I couldn’t escape.

There was something about that moment that had unsettled me, something I couldn’t quite put into words.

By the time I reached home, I was thoroughly drained, both physically and mentally. The rain continued to pour, a relentless rhythm that mirrored the chaos in my mind.

I changed out of my damp clothes and slipped into bed, hoping for the comfort of sleep to take me away from the confusion of the evening.

But sleep did not bring comfort. Instead, it brought something far darker.

The dream began innocuously, almost like a memory buried deep within my mind. I was walking through an unfamiliar place, surrounded by shadows that seemed to shift and twist in the periphery of my vision. The rain was falling heavily, the sound of it a constant drumming in my ears.

The ground was slick beneath my feet, and the air was thick with the scent of wet earth. I felt a sense of unease growing within me, a gnawing dread that tightened around my chest like a vice. As I moved forward, the shadows began to clear, and I found myself standing at the edge of a road.