The elevator finally chimed, doors sliding open. The crowd spilled out, voices trailing into the hall.
Rudra and Ayaan were the last to step off.
The moment Ayaan moved forward, Rudra inhaled deeply—like he had been holding his breath the entire ride. His chest felt tight, his palms damp, but his face… his face was the same cold mask everyone in the building knew.
Except Ayaan wasn't "everyone."
They walked side by side down the quiet corridor, their footsteps muffled against the carpet. Neither spoke, but the silence wasn't empty—it was thick, charged, alive. Ayaan clutched his scarf-less neck, feeling a heat that wasn't from the winter air. Rudra's hand still tingled from where Ayaan's had brushed his in the pocket earlier.
At Rudra's door, Ayaan hesitated. He glanced at him, lips parting as if to say something, but then closed them again.
Rudra unlocked the door and pushed it open. "Come in," he said, softer than usual. It wasn't a command this time, more of an invitation.
Ayaan stepped inside. The familiar warmth of Rudra's apartment wrapped around them. The faint scent of cedarwood, the minimalist décor, the silence—everything here was Rudra. Cold, controlled.
Yet when the door clicked shut behind them, Ayaan felt the weight of what had just happened in the elevator press back onto his chest. He tugged nervously at his sleeve.
Rudra hung his coat slowly, buying himself time, fighting the absurd urge to pin Ayaan against the wall right there, to demand what that closeness meant. His mind screamed control, but his body remembered the ghost of Ayaan's back against him.
Ayaan's voice broke the silence, soft and almost hesitant:
"You… look more tired than usual today."
Rudra turned. Their eyes met.
For a moment, neither moved.
The air in the apartment was warmer than outside, but Ayaan still shivered—whether from the winter chill or the tension, even he didn't know.
And then, unable to stop himself, Rudra spoke. Low, almost rough:
"…about earlier."
Ayaan blinked. "Elevator?"
Rudra's jaw tightened. He looked away. "…Forget it."
But Ayaan smiled faintly, tilting his head. His heart pounded, but his tone was gentle.
"I can't forget it. Not when it made you look so…" he trailed off, searching for the word, "…human."
Rudra froze.
No one had ever said that to him. Not employees, not partners, not even family. Human.
And somehow… it was the one thing he wanted to be, at least in Ayaan's eyes.
To be continued....