The elevator doors slid open with a soft metallic sigh, their mirrored surface reflecting the sterile glow of the corridor lights. Poornima stepped in first, her finger still pressing the Open button as she looked over her shoulder.
Dhruv stood just outside, towering and still, his amber eyes glinting under the fluorescent light. At six feet, with shoulders broad enough to fill a doorway, he looked like he'd rather face a firing squad than step inside that cramped metal box with her - ALONE.
"Come on," she called, an amused curve tugging at her lips. "It's faster than waiting for another one."
He didn't move. His jaw tightened, eyes flicking from the glowing floor numbers to her expectant face.
Poornima arched a brow. "What's the matter? Scared of elevators… or of me?"
That earned a muscle twitch near his temple. He still didn't budge.
She smirked, leaning casually against the railing. "Come on! I don't bite."
The moment hung there—sharp, electric. And then, without a word, Dhruv stepped forward.
In two strides he was inside. The doors whispered shut behind him as he advanced, swift and deliberate, until Poornima's back met the cool elevator wall. His arms rose, braced on either side of her, caging her in with that taut, muscular frame.
Her breath hitched. She looked up into those molten amber eyes, wide and startled.
Dhruv's face was close enough for her to feel the heat of his breath when he spoke, voice low and rough, words dragging through clenched teeth.
"But I bite."
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved—the elevator humming softly beneath the thick tension between them.
The words hung between them, thick as the elevator's hum.
Poornima's pulse was loud in her ears — louder, maybe, than the faint mechanical thrum beneath her feet. Dhruv's breath was still close enough to graze her cheek, his eyes burning with that unreadable intensity that made her forget what air was supposed to taste like.
Then, just as suddenly, he stepped back.
The spell broke.
The elevator chimed.
The doors slid open with a soft ding, letting in the sterile light of the lobby — too bright, too normal for what had just happened.
Dhruv turned away first, jaw tight, the ghost of a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth. Without a word, he stepped out, every line of his body composed again — distant, deliberate, untouchable. He shouldn't have acted that way. It was so unlike him. But his restrain snapped when she teased with that innocent smile and bright brown eyes.
Poornima exhaled, slow and shaky, then crossed her arms as if the gesture could hide the chaos in her chest. Her reflection in the mirror-paneled wall looked annoyingly flushed.
"Well," she muttered under her breath, trying to sound amused instead of breathless, "there goes the big bad wolf. The one that bites. What am I then? Red Riding Hood?"
She didn't know he heard her — or that the faintest curve of a smile flickered over his lips as he strode away, her voice threading into his thoughts like a whisper he couldn't quite shake. The next few days seemed exceptionally quite and normal as if the events in the elevator were figment of her imagination.
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The mist was thick again tonight.
It clung to her skin like breath, curling through the dark as Poornima walked along the narrow trail. The world was washed silver — moonlight spilling across the damp earth, glinting off leaves that whispered in the cold wind.
She should've been shivering, but her feet moved on their own, steady and sure, as if pulled by something she couldn't name. She knew it was out there — waiting for her.
Then she saw it.
A shape moved between the trees — massive, silent, graceful. The mist parted, and the wolf emerged. Its coat shimmered like liquid moonlight, grey and silver, its form both beautiful and terrifying.
It came closer.
Closer still.
Poornima didn't run. She couldn't.
The creature towered above her now, its presence filling the air, but instead of fear, she felt a strange peace — a pull, deep and instinctive. When it nuzzled her shoulder, warmth spread through her cold bones, chasing away the chill of the night.
Then it looked at her.
Its gaze locked with hers, and her breath caught — not at the size or the closeness, but at the eyes.
Amber.
Molten gold.
Too human. Too familiar.
The wolf's longing gaze burned into her soul — and she woke with a gasp, tangled in her sheets, heart hammering.
Moonlight filtered through her window, pale and soft on her skin. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to slow her breathing.
Those eyes! Those eyes!!!!