Ayra has secretly adored Aarush, The famous singer, ever since their paths first crossed in their college. But fate had other plans as Aarush was madly in love with her sister, Myra. However, destiny took an unexpected twist when Aarush found himsel...
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Author's POV
Ayra stood in front of her dressing table, her reflection in the mirror revealing the tension etched on her face. She wore a sleek black silk nightdress, her fingers tightly clutching a small pendrive. "I need to see what's on this," she thought, her mind racing. "But Aarush has taken my phone, and I don't have a laptop here. How am I going to view what is in this?"
As if on cue, she heard footsteps approaching. Acting quickly, she slipped on a silk robe, concealing the nightdress. Her heart raced as she tried to calm her nerves, hoping to appear relaxed and composed.
Aarush entered the room, his footsteps unsteady, his eyes glazed with intoxication. As he stumbled forward, his gaze landed on Ayra, standing there, her silhouette illuminated by the soft glow of the dressing table mirror.
He moved towards her with a deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving hers, reflecting a mix of desire and confusion. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her gently but firmly against him. She could feel the warmth of his body, the erratic beat of his heart, and the faint scent of alcohol on his breath.
Ayra closed her eyes, her senses heightened by the intimacy of the moment. She could feel the soft brush of his lips against her shoulder, his breath tickling her skin, sending shivers down her spine. His hands moved gently up and down her arms, a possessive yet tender touch.
The scent of his cologne, mixed with the hint of whiskey, enveloped her, filling her lungs with a heady aroma. She leaned back into him, her body instinctively responding to his touch, her breath quickening.
As Ayra felt the warmth of Aarush's embrace, his whispered words sent a sharp pang through her heart. "Myra..." he murmured, his voice thick with intoxication. Hearing the name of another woman in that intimate moment stung Ayra deeply.
With a gentle yet firm tone, she responded, "It's me........, Ayra." Her voice was soft, but there was an underlying strength in her words.
Aarush's head snapped up, his eyes focusing on the reflection in the mirror. He saw Ayra's face, her expression a mix of hurt and confusion. Slowly, he shook his head, as if trying to clear the fog of alcohol and the mistaken identity. He released his embrace, and she turned to face him directly.
