Max's POV
The lights shimmered off the hanging lamps, and voices surrounded me—celebrating, laughing, living. But I was frozen… frozen the moment Ram leaned closer.
His breath whispered against my ear.
"First floor. Room next to the master bedroom… just come."
A soft flick of his fingers brushed my ear, sending a spark down my spine. He didn't wait for a reply. Just walked away like he knew I'd follow. And God—why did I?
My heart was louder than the music by now.
I pushed open the half-closed door slowly. The room was lit by nothing but a warm corner lamp. It was quiet—too quiet for what I was feeling. But there he was.
The door clicked shut behind me. My heels paused on the wooden floor, heart thudding louder than my breath. There he stood—by the window, bathed in the golden glow of a single lamp.
His silhouette, calm… but something in the air between us wasn't.
He turned.
I didn't move.
Not because I couldn't… but because I didn't want to break whatever this moment was. Maybe I'd dreamt this too many times. Maybe reality decided to be kind just once.
He came closer.
Three steps. That's all it took for my world to blur.
His hands gently cupped my face like I was made of porcelain. His eyes searched mine—not for permission, but for confirmation that I was still the same girl he once watched from afar.
Then it happened.
Our lips met.
At first, soft. Delicate. As if the past three years were afraid to show their scars.
But then—it deepened.
The kind of kiss that steals time. That holds all the words we never had the courage to say.
My hands, instinctively, gripped his shoulders—feeling the strength under the fabric of his shirt. My fingers trembled, unsure if this was real or a cruel daydream. But when he pulled me closer—when the last space between our bodies melted away—I knew it was real.
Our hearts were crashing against each other like waves in a storm.
His hand rested on my waist, slipping slightly through the pleat of my saree. That innocent touch—sent a wildfire through my spine. It wasn't about lust. It was the ache of everything held back. The love buried. The silence we both carried.
I clutched him tighter.
My fingers slid down his back, scraping lightly. Not out of aggression—but desperation. My nails grazed the fabric hard enough to feel it stretch. I didn't care. I wanted to leave something on him that says—I was here.
His breath hitched between the kiss.
Mine too.
I didn't even realize when a tear slipped down. Not out of pain—but release.
We held each other tighter. Like we were afraid the world outside would pull us apart again.
And in that one moment, wrapped in his arms, tangled in that kiss—I wasn't Max, the girl with scars. I was Max, the girl felt loved.
And I loved him.
Even if I never said it aloud.
Just when I thought the world had disappeared, a distant voice echoed from the stairs.
"Raaam! Ram where are you, ma?"
We froze.
His lips slowly left mine. Our foreheads touched, breathing tangled. He didn't move away… neither did I.
His name echoed again, louder this time—closer.
Ram stepped back slightly, fixing the saree pleat gently like he was handling something sacred. I looked at him—confused, still catching my breath, my lips still tingling.
Then—
The door opened.
"Ram—" his mother called, stepping in halfway, then pausing.
Her eyes swept the room… and stopped.
On us.
We stood still—like guilty kids caught red-handed.
But…
She didn't react. Her face didn't change. She blinked once. And then casually, with the calmest tone possible, she said:
"Max… he was just showing you his room, ah ma?"
I couldn't answer. My throat was dry. My cheeks flushed like fire.
Ram just nodded, awkwardly straightening his kurta. "Yeah ma… just showing around…"
She smiled—too sweetly. "Hmm… okay pa, come down soon. Everyone's waiting."
And just like that, she left, closing the door gently behind her.
But that smile…
It wasn't ordinary.
Something about it said—she knew.
She definitely saw.
But pretended not to.
I turned to Ram, stunned. He bit his lip, scratching the back of his neck, avoiding my eyes like a boy caught stealing sweets.
The heat between us hadn't cooled.
But now—another fire had just started.
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