[FEATURED IN WATTPAD INDIA PROFILE]
❝Pioneering the art of constructing love, my Kanmani.❞
Xavier teased her skin, slowly caressing her cheeks and her lips trembled.
❝You don't dare!❞
And he kissed her.
------
When he had compromised his dreams and...
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Good morning! Meet you at the office, Chakudi.
Rathna's message hit like an alarm clock. Krithika woke up every day to his cheery pings. The guy was an early bird. She yawned, wiped a bit of drool from the corner of her mouth, and fired back a reply: Yeah.
Over the past two weeks, they'd grown close. He even promised to bring her some homemade farsan. Apparently, Gujaratis were fiercely proud of their snacks—dhoklas, khakhras, and the rest of the gang. She wasn't sure if he was joking or if his pride genuinely revolved around spiced chickpea flour and fermented rice cakes.
Dragging herself out of bed, she trudged to the washroom. Toothbrush in hand, she started brushing absentmindedly. Some rituals were necessary, even if her soul was still curled up in bed.
Like dreaming every single night about her dangerously attractive boss, Xavier.
Argh!
Splashing water on her face, she caught her reflection—slight red eyes. The telltale sign of sleepless nights. Her mind had turned into a sleazy director, playing out scandalous fantasies starring Xavier and herself. Who needed erotica with that kind of crap being screened in her mind?
Why am I so horny?
She grabbed a towel, then realized too late it wasn't a towel—it was her kurti—and wiped her face dry with it anyway. Sleep-deprived dignity wasn't worth salvaging. She headed to the kitchen to make coffee, desperate for a strong filter brew, but the PG didn't have the right setup. Another mental note to buy the containers later.
You'll forget again, she told herself bitterly.
"Who's Xavier?"
Her roommate, Anjali, appeared out of nowhere, grinning like a cat that had caught a scandal. They'd shared their cramped room for a year—enough time for a mix of laughter, tears, and passive-aggressive notes about dirty dishes.
"My boss," Krithika muttered, dumping crappy instant coffee into a mug. "Why?"
"You were murmuring his name last night." Anjali's grin was annoyingly smug. "I heard it."
Shit. Krithika dropped a spoonful of sugar, cursing under her breath as she bent down to clean it up. Yeah, she'd dreamt about him. About them. Doing... things that could be termed steamy, R-rated, and extremely unholy. Her dreams, at this point, defined wet dreams in the proper sense.
"Yeah, well," she said, dumping the sugar in the sink. "He's a tyrant. Piles on the work. Terrible human being."
Anjali raised an eyebrow. "It didn't sound like work-related groaning."
Muruga, kill me already!
The game was up. It had been two days since their last tense, toe-curling interaction, where he'd leaned in too close and told her to stop biting her lip in that sinful tone—an order that had sounded more like seduction than scolding. Since then, she'd crossed paths with him on purpose, but he hadn't even looked her way.
Seduction, attraction, my ass.
He was back to being stoic and cold, and it bugged her more than she wanted to admit. For months, she'd seen glimpses of a softer side. Now, it felt like he was tired of the act.
Her phone pinged again, saving her from further interrogation. Priya's message: I came in early, got some sweets for you guys!
Anjali interrupted, "How does this boss of yours look? Because last night, you sounded..."
Krithika wanted to die. Or better, push Anjali off a cliff.
"You can google him," she snapped, feigning indifference. "He's not hiding."
"I already did."
Thanks for stalking.
"Hmm... not many pictures of him. No clear shots."
"Yeah, he avoids the media."
"Hmm..."
"So... is he hot?"
"What?!" Krithika's head snapped up. Her face burned as she tried to stay calm.
Anjali followed her back to the room, relentless. "C'mon. It's every office girl's fantasy, right? The hot boss with the brooding eyes?"
Was that what people thought about before job hunting? She focused on career growth and, most importantly, the paycheck. Krithika's ears burned. She clenched her jaw. "I don't fantasize about my boss."
But you do have a hot boss who knows how to kiss senselessly—
Shut the fuck up, her conscience hissed, throttling her subconscious.
"Whatever," Anjali said, shrugging as she left. "No need to be so touchy."
Krithika sipped her coffee, wincing at the awful taste. She distracted herself by checking her email, remembering the interview she had later that evening. She'd prepared. She was ready.
Except the thought of leaving her job—and Xavier—made her chest feel hollow.
It should've been simple. Clean break. New chapter. Yet, deep down, she knew there was more to Xavier than cold stares and sharp words. His reaction when she'd joked about her pitiful life, about her father's cold affection, haunted her.
It wasn't pity in his eyes. It was something deeper.
Why would he even care?
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Do tell me what you feel about this and the upcoming chapters, always open to positive criticism.
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