Ruh ki Thirkan

Chapter 23: A New Dance

Days turned into a blur as Ishika tried to immerse herself fully in the family business. Her routine was fixed, and she had no room to think about the studio, Arav, or the art gallery encounter with Raj. But despite her efforts, her mind would drift back to the studio. She couldn't forget the intensity of Arav’s words, or the way he had tried to apologize—however clumsily.

It wasn’t until one late evening that she received a call from an unknown number. She answered, half expecting it to be a client or a business associate.

“Ishika,” the voice on the other end was unmistakable. It was Arav. “I need to see you at the studio tomorrow. Can you come?”

She hesitated. She had been trying to distance herself, to get back to her routine, but something in his voice made her pause.

“Is this about the final paperwork?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation strictly professional.

“It’s… more than that. I’ll explain when you’re here,” he replied, and before she could say anything further, the line went dead.

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The next day, Ishika stood outside the studio once again, a mixture of curiosity and trepidation swirling within her. When she stepped inside, the air felt thick with memories—both of the exhilarating moments she had once experienced on the dance floor and the tension that had developed between her and Arav.

Arav was already in the rehearsal room when she arrived, his back to her as he adjusted the stereo system. The studio felt eerily empty, its vastness amplifying the sense of anticipation in the air.

“I didn’t think we’d be alone,” Ishika remarked, her voice catching slightly in her throat.

Arav turned to face her, his eyes scanning her in a way that made her heart race unexpectedly. “I wanted it that way. I thought you needed space. And now, I think we need to talk.”

He stepped closer, and the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the polished wood floor of the studio hit her senses. She felt her pulse quicken as she realized how close they were. The usual intensity in his eyes was now mixed with something else, something softer, yet equally powerful.

“I haven’t been fair to you, Ishika,” Arav began, his voice low. “I’ve been tough, harder than I should’ve been. But you have no idea how much I’ve been fighting with myself.”

“Fighting with yourself?” she echoed, her voice barely a whisper, confused by his sudden vulnerability.

Arav stepped even closer, his hand reaching out almost instinctively before he pulled it back, as if unsure of the gesture. “You don’t get it, do you? The way you move, the way you pour your soul into dance… It makes me crazy. Not just because of your potential, but because of what it stirs in me.”

Ishika’s breath hitched, her gaze locking with his. The proximity between them was undeniable now. They were close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him, their bodies only inches apart.

“I thought you hated me,” she said quietly, not entirely sure what to make of his words. “You’ve been so harsh, and it felt personal.”

“It was personal,” Arav admitted, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I was harsh because I was frustrated… with myself, with you, with everything. I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling.”

The vulnerability in his words left Ishika reeling. She had always seen Arav as someone controlled, someone who never let emotions interfere with his craft. To see him like this, raw and exposed, was something she hadn’t expected.

Suddenly, the stereo clicked on, and a soft, slow beat began to play. Arav’s eyes flickered towards the sound, and without a word, he took a step back, extending his hand toward her.

“Dance with me,” he said softly, but it wasn’t a request—it was a plea.

Ishika hesitated, the intensity of the moment nearly overwhelming. But something in Arav’s gaze, in the way he looked at her, made it impossible to refuse. She took his hand, and the electricity of that touch sent a jolt through her.

The music enveloped them as they moved together, his hand resting lightly on her waist while hers grazed his shoulder. There was a subtle hesitance in their movements, as if neither of them was sure where the dance—or this moment—would take them.

With each turn, each step, the tension between them grew thicker. The dance floor became their silent confession, their unspoken emotions playing out in the rhythm of their bodies. When Arav pulled her close for a slow spin, their faces were inches apart, and for a brief second, Ishika thought he might kiss her. His breath was warm against her cheek, and she could feel his heartbeat in the narrow space between them.

But he didn’t. Instead, he whispered, “This is what I wanted to show you… that dance isn’t just about precision. It’s about emotion, about connection.”

Ishika’s heart was pounding, her breath shallow. “I never thought…” she started, but the words trailed off, lost in the intensity of the moment.

They continued to move, the music guiding them as the tension built to a nearly unbearable point. And then, just as the song reached its crescendo, Arav pulled away, leaving her standing in the middle of the studio, breathless and confused.

He ran a hand through his hair, his back turned to her once again. “This is why I’ve been so hard on you. I didn’t want to feel this way. I didn’t want to—” He stopped himself, his voice shaking.

Ishika stood frozen, her pulse still racing, trying to process everything that had just happened. “Arav…”

But before she could say anything more, he cut her off. “I need time, Ishika. I don’t know how to handle this. Just… go.”

His abruptness stung, but beneath it, she could see the turmoil in his eyes. Without another word, she turned and left the studio, her heart pounding, her mind spinning.

Outside, the cool evening air hit her like a wave. She wasn’t sure what had just happened between them, but one thing was clear—something between them had shifted. The line between professional and personal was now blurred, and she wasn’t sure how they would navigate it.

But as she walked away from the studio, Ishika couldn’t deny the warmth still lingering from his touch, or the way her heart had responded to his.

This wasn’t just about dance anymore.

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Lots of Love
-Your Author 🌼