You dont even know how to wear a bra
Hey hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii??
Come on, guys! It's your demand you all wanted Reyansh and Jinal's story, and now you're not reading it. That's not fair. I've put in extra effort and hard work for this.
Happy reading
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He leaned close, his voice deep enough to shake my knees
"You didn't wear a bra?"
My soul left my body.
I exhale
My mind was spinning.
Bra...?
I gulped again. He was looking so serious... so angry.
The old version the dangerous man everyone fears.
I am drenched.
He is drenched.
And he is angry.
I guess he is talking about that tiny... thing... girls wear inside.
So I shook my head slowly...
"No..."
Yes, because I genuinely didn't know how to wear that.
It is confusing and irritating...
But I didn't dare say that out loud.
His shoulders tensed.
His jaw clenched.
His eyes dark and pissed.
Great. I'm dead.
I could sense the air tightening around him.
My heart was thudding painfully inside my chest like a trapped bird.
I couldn't breathe.
I lowered my head, nodding slowly no.
Because no one ever taught me.
No one ever cared.
My fingers trembled, clutching my shawl-that-wasn't-even-there-anymore.
I wanted to disappear.
His gaze burned me not just my body, but my heart, my innocence.
And then...
He exhaled a harsh, frustrated breath.
He stepped closer, his towering frame caging me in. My breath hitched. His eyes-sharp, cold, merciless-scanned me like I was a puzzle that didn't fit.
My body froze...
My heartbeat felt like it would burst through my chest.
I stood there, dripping, shaking... clutching the frock.
My father's voice echoed in my mind...
"Aisi chhoti chhoti baaton ke liye bhi maar padh sakti hai."
("Even tiny mistakes can get you beaten.")
I squeezed my eyes shut.
He must be so angry...
Girls should know these things.
Girls should behave properly.
But no one ever taught me how to be a proper girl.
No one cared enough.
I trembled harder.
My breath broke.
If he hits me... it's okay...
It won't be the first time.
But...
My chest ached painfully with one thought:
...I don't want him to hit me.
Not him.
I flinched when he stepped closer
The white frock clung to my skin like a second layer of discomfort, the thin fabric turned completely transparent by the water, leaving my chest feeling so exposed.
My breasts were visible through the wet material, the outlines clear and making me want to hide.
Tears brimmed in my eyes, hot and ready to fall, blurring his face as he looked at me with those big, curious eyes that now seemed so intense.
'My mind spun with fears: him raising his hand like my father had, the sharp pain of a slap across my face, or his words cutting me down, making me feel small and foolish for not knowing better.
It wasn't my fault I truly didn't know. No one to guide me, just loneliness and the shadows of old hurts. How could I tell him that without crumbling? My throat closed up, no words coming as I stood frozen, bracing for whatever came next. It's all right, I whispered to myself.
Was he mad at me? Upset? The not-knowing made my pulse race even faster. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, waiting for the blow or the harsh words that would make everything hurt again.
His hands warm and steady reached out gently and drew me closer, his fingers resting lightly on my waist. My breath caught, my body stiffening in surprise as he leaned in. His lips touched my neck, soft and careful at first, then pressing a little more, like he was tasting the warmth there.
A shiver ran through me, light and unfamiliar, starting where his mouth was and spreading like a gentle wave down my back. I gasped quietly, my eyes opening wide as tears slipped free, mixing confusion with this strange, fluttering feeling I couldn't name.
This wasn't the pain I expected. It was... different. Warm. His mouth moved slowly along my skin, his breath soft against me, making me shiver again without understanding why.
My hands stayed at my sides, unsure what to do, hovering like they didn't belong to me.
The frock's straps had slipped a bit earlier, and as he kissed my neck so tenderly, one of his hands moved up my back, fingers lightly in my wet hair, tilting my head just a little to give him more space.
He placed another soft kiss where my heartbeat raced, then a gentle press of his lips that made my knees feel wobbly.
'Shh,' he whispered against my skin, his voice like a soothing hum, 'it's okay, no need to be afraid.' But I was still scared not of him hurting me now, but of this new sensation, this quiet warmth blooming in my chest that I had no words for, no experience with.
Tears kept falling down my cheeks, blending with the water, as his other hand stayed at my waist, holding me close but not tight.
He kissed my neck again, a little longer this time, his lips warm and reassuring, drawing a small, surprised sound from me that I tried to hide. My body leaned into him without thinking, my chest brushing his, the wet fabric cool between us.
I had thought he would hit me, or yell, or make me feel ashamed for my mistake, but instead, he was holding me like this, his kisses soft and full of care, leaving little warm spots on my skin.
The fear was still there, whispering in the back of my mind, but it was softening under his gentle touch, turning into something peaceful and confusing.
Gently, he pressed his lips to the fabric over her breast, a feather-light kiss that sent a shiver rippling through her body.
She trembled under his touch, her skin prickling with unfamiliar sensations that felt both soothing and overwhelming, like a warm breeze stirring something deep inside she couldn't name.
Tears continued to stream down her cheeks, silent and steady, born from the confusion of his earlier intensity and her own fears.
Why was he doing this? Was it anger disguised as kindness?
She was too innocent to grasp the desire in his actions, too untaught in the ways of closeness to understand the heat building between them.
Her body responded on its own, a soft ache blooming where his mouth touched, making her breath hitch even as fresh tears welled up.
He traced his lips slowly across the curve of her breast, following the line of the fabric with delicate presses, each one eliciting another quiet shiver from her.
The kisses were reverent, almost worshipful, as if he were memorizing her shape through the barrier of wet cloth.
She felt a strange mix of comfort and uncertainty, her hands fidgeting at her sides, unsure whether to pull away or lean closer. The warmth of his mouth made her feel seen in a way that both eased and unsettled her, tears falling faster now as the emotions tangled inside her chest.
Finally, he lifted his face from her breast, his eyes seeking hers, only to freeze in shock at the sight of her tear-streaked cheeks. The glistening trails caught the dim bathroom light, and his heart clenched with sudden panic. What had he done? He hadn't meant to upset her far from it.
Before he could speak, she flung her arms around him like a frightened child seeking solace, clinging tightly to his chest, her wet frock pressing against his towel-wrapped form. Her small frame shook with quiet sobs, burying her face against him.
he murmured urgently, his voice laced with worry as his arms wrapped around her protectively, one hand stroking her damp hair. 'Why are you crying? Something happen?'
She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes wide and innocent, lashes clumped with tears. 'You... were angry?' she whispered, her voice trembling with genuine confusion, as if the very idea of his emotions toward her was a puzzle she couldn't solve.
Rivan's chest tightened.
"Why would I be angry at you?" he asked gently, genuinely bewildered.
She hiccupped, clutching his shoulder with fragile fingers.
"Because... your face was scary. You get very angry face... and I got scared..."
Her innocence stabbed him straight in the heart.
He took a slow breath, forcing every ounce of possessive desire out of his system, replacing it with care.
Then, without another word, he slid one arm beneath her legs and lifted her as if she weighed nothing. She gasped softly, instinctively curling closer, still shivering from the cold and emotions.
He walked out of the bathroom both soaked, water dripping from their clothes onto the marble floor Kaizan watching from afar with confused, narrowed panther-eyes.
Rivan ignored everything except the trembling girl in his arms.
He carried her into the closet room, gently placing her down near the dresser.
His voice softened to silk
But before turning away, he leaned closer...
pressing his forehead to hers, whispering
A single tear fell again
but this time, not out of fear.
Rivan turned his back first, giving her space, but his voice was gentle and steady.
She nodded, her fingers trembling as she reached for the fresh frock laid on the shelf. The wet fabric clung to her, refusing to slide off easily. She struggled quiet whimpers escaping and the longer he listened, the more it tugged at his heart.
He exhaled slowly, then turned around and stepped closer.
"Stop... you'll hurt yourself." His tone was soft, patient.
She froze, eyes glued to the floor.
With careful hands, he began removing the soaked cloth from her shoulders slow... respectful... every motion controlled. His fingertips brushed her skin only when truly necessary, and each accidental touch made her shy breath hitch against the silence.
The air around them crackled with a warmth neither dared acknowledge.
He draped a dry towel around her upper body first, making sure she felt secure and hidden, before guiding her arms gently out of the sleeves. She kept her gaze down, cheeks burning, tiny fists clutching the towel like a lifeline.
"Look at me," he whispered.
She did... hesitantly.
Her eyes were still damp from the tears, but now filled with something softer trust.
Rivan's voice dropped to a husky promise.
"I'm not angry with you. I am trying... very hard... to be gentle."
Her lower lip quivered, and she nodded, as if accepting that he was trying for her only for her.
He helped her into the new frock, his fingers brushing her hair away from her face afterward. He fastened the back button with a tenderness that didn't match the ruthless reputation the world feared.
The moment lingered quiet, warm, precious.
Her small hands clutched the ends of his towel, her voice trembling but determined.
"You too... change. Or—or you will get cold," she muttered, avoiding his eyes.
Then, under her breath, she added with a pout,
"And I won't take care of you since... I hate monsters."
He blinked.
Monster?
He almost laughed.
A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned slightly forward, his voice dipped low and teasing.
"Oh? So now you're brave enough to hate me, hmm?"
Devyani instantly shook her head, eyes wide like a frightened kitten who had been caught teasing a lion.
"I-I only said because... you said cold!" she defended herself, adorably flustered.
His chuckle rumbled deep in his chest rich, warm... dangerous in the softest way.
"Okay," he nodded, giving in to her innocent stubbornness. "I'll go change."
But she grabbed his wrist before he could move.
"Nope," she said, glaring with all her courage gathered in those big eyes.
He stared at her really stared.
This tiny girl... dripping wet... trying to be fierce while looking like a lost kitten.
He stepped closer, towering over her as his towel clung to him.
"Okay," he murmured, cupping her jaw lightly so she would look up.
"I would love to be dressed by my baby kitten."
She gasped, hiding her face behind her palms.
He smiled a real, soft smile no one ever witnessed and whispered,
"Come on... help me before I catch that cold you're worried about."
Devyani peeked through her fingers, utterly embarrassed yet unable to move away.
She took a deep breath...
And reached for the knot of his towel.
Her fingers trembled.
His smirk vanished replaced by a stillness... a quiet alertness... because her touch, so delicate and shy, did something to him that even danger never could.
Just as her trembling fingers brushed the knot of his towel, he gently caught her wrists.
His smile lingered but there was a hint of restraint, a breath of control.
"No," he whispered softly, shaking his head.
"Go stand outside. I'll come in a bit."
She blinked up at him, confused... but obediently stepped out of the closet room.
He exhaled the second she left, running a hand through his damp hair.
He dressed quickly, forcing himself to calm the fire that her innocence had sparked inside him.
When he walked out, he found her
Sitting on the edge of the bed, feet dangling slightly...
head lowered...
mind lost somewhere dark.
Her hands were fidgeting with her dress, and her face was full of worry
like she was terrified he would be angry again.
Rivan's chest tightened.
Without a word, he slid his arms under her legs and back, lifting her effortlessly.
She gasped softly surprised but she didn't resist.
He carried her to the vanity chair and sat her down gently, like she was something fragile... precious.
Then he picked up the towel and knelt behind her.
Slowly... tenderly... he began drying her dripping hair.
Devyani stared at his reflection in the mirror eyes wide, innocent, silently searching his expression.
Every time his fingers brushed her neck, she shivered not from cold this time.
Rivan saw her gaze that scared, unsure, hopeful look and his heart clenched painfully.
He leaned slightly closer, meeting her eyes in the mirror as he spoke in a quiet, steady voice:
He nodded once, his thumb brushing away a tiny wet strand from her cheek.
"How can I be angry..."
he murmured, eyes softening in a way even he didn't recognize,
"...when all you do is make me weak?"
Her breath hitched.
Weak.
Rivan Thakur... calling someone his weakness.
Her.
She looked away, cheeks turning a soft pink, while he continued drying her hair gentle, almost loving like he never wanted this moment to end.
He finished drying her hair carefully, not letting even a strand stay damp.
Then, without giving her a chance to move away, he scooped her into his arms again.
Devyani stiffened, her fingers clutching his shirt instinctively.
She kept her gaze glued to the floor like the tiles suddenly became the most interesting thing in the world.
He sat down on the couch, settling her on his lap.
She wriggled just a little, embarrassed... but he held her firmly in place.
Her cheeks were red, eyes still shiny from tears.
Instead of looking at him...
she found the buttons of his shirt very fascinating.
She started playing with them... twisting them between her fingers...
Anything to avoid that bra topic.
Rivan watched her quietly the way she tried to avoid even breathing too loud.
Devyani quickly shook her head, a tiny "no," still refusing to lift her eyes.
He sighed a long, deep breath against her ear.
She swallowed hard, her lips pressing into a nervous pout.
But she still didn't look up her tiny fingers moving nervously on his shirt button.
Rivan's hand came up, sliding under her chin gently.
His thumb touched her lower lip, tilting her face upward with slow insistence.
"Devyani..."
he whispered, eyes locked to hers,
"I'm not going to hurt you."
Her breath caught.
Because no one had ever said that to her before.
His other hand slipped to her waist, holding her steady possessive, protective.
Her wide eyes blinked at him.
She fidgeted, searching for an escape... any escape.
"I... I love your shirt," she blurted out suddenly.
Rivan raised a brow.
"Thank you," he murmured, amused by how desperately she tried to run from the topic.
But his amusement didn't last long his expression turned serious again.
His grip on her waist tightened.
She had no idea what that single touch did to him.
He inhaled sharply his entire body going tense beneath her.
"Devyani..." he warned, his voice dropping into something darker, rougher.
But she continued one more small kiss...
then another...
He caught her chin gently firm but careful stopping her before she could give him another heart-stopping kiss.
"No," he whispered.
He guided her face up, forcing her eyes to meet his.
Her lashes trembled.
Her breathing uneven.
His gaze intense... burning straight into her soul.
She blinked — innocent, scared, confused.
He shook his head softly, a breathless chuckle slipping out.
Her lips parted in surprise.
Rivan leaned a little closer, his forehead resting against hers, his breath warm on her mouth.
She swallowed hard, fingers still twisting one of his buttons like it was her lifeline.
"Umm..."
Her voice barely made a sound.
"I... I don't know how to wear that..."
Rivan paused.
For a second he genuinely thought he misheard her.
His brows pulled together, confusion flickering in his eyes.
Not judgment.
Not anger.
Just... confusion.
Because this was basic.
Every girl knew this.
How could she not?
A hundred questions zipped through his mind but he shoved them all aside.
He forced his tone calm. Gentle.
"Okay... why?" he asked softly.
"You didn't try? Or you don't want to?"
His palm slid over her back, slow and soothing, urging her to breathe.
"It's alright,kitten..."
he said, voice steady and sincere.
"If you don't want to wear... no one will force you."
Her head shot up shock flickering in her innocent eyes.
He touched his forehead to hers again.
"It's your body," he murmured.
"You get to decide what you want to wear... what you don't want to."
His thumb brushed a tear clinging to the corner of her eye.
She sniffled.
"Because... I was scared. You... you look very scary when you get angry."
Rivan blinked actually stunned.
Scary? To her?
His voice dropped gentle, almost guilty.
"Oh... sorry for that," he murmured.
"I'll take care of it next time."
His fingers cupped her jaw softly.
"But please don't cry again. It... it scares me too.
And you... don't have to be scared when you're with me."
She stared at him like she was trying to see if he meant it.
If monsters could ever protect you instead of hurt you.
He cleared his throat, needing answers.
"So... may I know why you didn't learn how to wear a bra?"
Her ears turned red instantly.
Rivan suppressed a smile.
"It's normal," he said calmly.
She frowned seriously.
Rivan froze.
Silence.
He stared at her like... what dimension did this girl come from?
"No," he replied slowly.
"Men... don't wear that."
Her eyes widened.
"Wrong!" she declared proudly.
Rivan: "...Wrong??"
She nodded like she had just solved the world's biggest mystery.
Rivan's eyes widened.
A cough nearly escaped him.
His brain:
Special occasions??
Is he wearing Devyani's version of a bra??
WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN??
Rivan pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to scream.
Trying not to picture his brother in lingerie.
"Baccha..." he said slowly, voice shaky from disbelief.
"What exactly did he wear? And when?"
She tilted her head adorably, thinking hard.
"Um... it had small cups... and a hook behind...."
Rivan:
??
A long, long pause.
He stared blankly at the wall like his soul just left his body.
Devyani blinked.
"So... if Adi Bhaiyya wears on special occasion...
you should also wear that, right?"
Rivan's jaw fell open.
Rivan exhaled softly, bringing her even closer on his lap.
His voice turned gentle... patient... like he was guiding a child.
"Nope, baby," he whispered, brushing her hair behind her ear.
"Boys don't wear that. Only girls do."
Her brows scrunched in confusion.
"But... why only girls?" she asked, genuinely curious.
He lightly tapped her chest just a soft touch
and she instantly sucked in a breath.
"Because your chest..." he said slowly,
"...is different from mine."
Her eyes widened like he just revealed a universe's secret.
He nodded.
She looked down at herself... then looked back at him.
Rivan's heart tugged at the softness of her voice.
"Yes," he murmured, his thumb gently tracing her jaw.
"And when you get older... they grow more...
so you'll need support. A bra helps with that."
Devyani's mouth formed a small "O".
"Never," he said firmly.
"It's normal. It's natural.
It's a part of you."
She blinked at him... those big innocent eyes softening.
He shook his head, pressing his forehead to hers.
She nodded slowly,
then hugged him tight like she finally felt safe.
Slowly... slowly... Rivan tried to ask her things.
He understood she was not comfortable, so he didn't force anything.
He asked softly, carefully making sure she felt safe with every word.
"Kitten... but I just want to know... why don't you know how to wear it? Nobody taught you?"
His voice held more confusion than anything else.
"It's... it's such an easy thing."
Devyani lowered her head further, fingers twisting the edge of his shirt nervously.
"No one was there to teach me..."
Her voice was tiny... broken at the edges.
Rivan's eyes widened because now he understood something was terribly wrong.
His jaw tightened as he asked again, more softly but with a dangerous undercurrent,
"Why... nobody teach my baccha, hmm?"
She didn't lift her face.
Instead... she remembered her mother.
Her eyes burned... tears forming but she blinked them away immediately.
Rivan noticed every bit of it.
His breaths turned heavy.
His blood boiled with silent rage but his hands?
They were gentle.
He just pulled her into a hug, his arms locking around her protectively.
Calming her... without asking anything more.
His eyes... now dangerous, murderous even.
He really wanted to know her past.
Very badly.
But she didn't cry.
She didn't want to share anything with him not yet.
So she controlled herself. Kept everything inside.
And Rivan... respected that.
For now.
Rivan cupped her face gently, wiping a tear that had escaped before she could hide it.
His voice was low... steady... determined.
"If no one taught you before," he murmured,
"your man will teach you now."
Her eyes softened instantly.
"Really? You will teach me?"
He gave a small smile more like a promise than amusement.
But her innocent little nose scrunched up.
He raised a brow. "And I'm also your husband na."
"So," she blinked, thinking very seriously, "husbands can teach wives these... things?"
He leaned forward, whispering against her lips,
"I don't know about others...
but your husband can teach everything."
Her cheeks turned crimson.
She looked down at herself like she was analyzing her chest again.
Rivan's eyes softened at her sweet confusion.
He placed his large warm hand over her heartnot touching indecently, just supporting.
"When you walk... run... or even jump," he said calmly,
"they move a lot. And that hurts.
A bra keeps them supported... held... safe."
She watched his hand, fascinated.
"So they won't dance around?"
He choked on a laugh.
"Yes," he nodded. "They will stay in place."
She gasped dramatically.
Rivan bit his cheek to stop his smile from growing too much.
"They should have," he said quietly,
"but they didn't."
Her gaze rose slowly... questioning... fragile.
"You... won't leave me because I don't know these things, right?"
His fingers slid under her chin, lifting her face to his.
His voice turned deep possessive honest.
"If someone leaves you for not knowing things
then they never deserved you."
Her heart stopped for a second.
She blinked... her small smile blooming again.
"So from now on..." she whispered shyly,
"You will teach me everything... na?"
Rivan leaned in.
"Everything."
Each word a promise sealed in his breath.
"One step at a time. At your pace."
She giggled softly.
Rivan took a slow breath, still holding her close not wanting her to feel even a pinch of discomfort.
Gently, he tried again,
"So... you don't know anything about... intimacy?"
He asked it hesitantly, his voice cautious... almost scared to take the wrong step with her.
Devyani blinked up at him, clueless.
"What is... intimacy?"
Rivan froze.
His throat dried.
He swallowed hard very hard.
Devyani simply nodded like a good student,
"Okay."
Then she tilted her head, studying his chest with the seriousness of a scientist solving a great mystery.
"But why my chest is big... and yours is small?"
Rivan stared. For a second, he deadass forgot how to breathe.
She frowned cutely.
"So girls get big chest... but boys don't?"
He nodded, trying not to crack up or combust.
She pointed at his shirt buttons, whispering with horror,
"But what if one day yours also grows? Then you will wear bra too?"
Rivan almost choked on his own air.
Devyani still wasn't convinced.
Rivan's expression went from confused → shocked → betrayed → trying not to laugh → murderous.
Her eyes widened, scared she made a mistake.
"W-Woh... he told me when I asked him....."
Rivan exhaled deeply.
"Baby... Aditya was dumb. Boys don't wear bras. Only girls do because your chest grows for special reasons when you grow up."
She gasped like she discovered America.
His voice dropped low and soft,
"Very... very special."
Her face glowed with innocence,
and his heart... with fire and protectiveness.
Before Rivan could help her further,
a low dangerous growl echoed from the doorway.
Both their heads snapped toward the sound.
Kaizan stood there
massive black panther form, fur still damp,
eyes burning pure jealousy.
His tail lashed violently against the floor
as he stared at Rivan like he was ready
to rip the King apart for touching his queen.
Rivan: Oh, here we go...
He rubbed his forehead.
Kaizan let out another furious growl,
baring his sharp teeth:
The words were hissed in his mind,
but Rivan understood every bit of that threat.
Rivan glared back.
Devyani blinked.
She didn't understand the telepathic conversation
she only heard panther noises.
But she saw Kaizan...
her Kaizan
looking upset.
So she immediately left Rivan's lap
and rushed to Kaizan with a bright smile.
Kaizan's glare sharpened dangerously.
Don't. Laugh. Human.
His panther eyes warned silently.
Rivan's lips twitched
he almost burst into laughter
but somehow controlled it.
He lifted his hands in surrender
and slowly backed out of the closet room.
And before he could say anything else,
Devyani and Kaizan ran,
Kaizan already nudging her behind curtains to hide,
his tail protectively curling around her feet.
She giggled.
Giggled.
Rivan stopped at the doorway...
watching them...
A smile tugged at his lips—
not jealousy, not irritation...
Just a quiet ache.
They looked like his whole world.
His wife's laughter.
His panther-son guarding her like treasure.
And for the first time ever...
Rivan Thakur felt—
What the hell...
How can she not know the most basic things?
My brain was... blank.
No worse. It was screaming.
She sat there,
innocently curling her fingers into my shirt buttons like it was a toy...
And I...
I'd touched her.
Kissed her.
Held her like a woman...
while she she didn't even know what intimacy means.
My chest tightened painfully.
Fuck.
She is just a girl.
Pure.
Untouched by the world's filth.
How did I not see this?
My throat dried as a terrifying thought punched me...
Because what I have done already feels like a crime.
Guilt hit me like a truck.
She doesn't know how to wear a bra.
She doesn't know why her body is different.
She doesn't know what desire is.
And I...
I took advantage of that cluelessness.
My hands that touched her
now felt dirty... unworthy.
She trusted me with her entire existence.
She looked at me like I was her whole world.
And I made her cry.
Fuck.
I wanted her.
Desired her.
But she didn't even understand what that desire means.
My heart was punching against my ribs,
painful, heavy, guilty.
If she's really way younger...
If she's a child in mind...
Then I'm a monster.
And monsters don't deserve soft, gentle things like her.
I inhaled shakily, eyes closing for a moment.
No more crossing lines.
No more stealing innocence.
Not until she grows... learns... understands.
Not until she wants me truly with awareness, not fear.
She deserves protection.
Education.
Care.
She deserves a man who will teach, not take.
I opened my eyes again...
and there she was
laughing, playing with that oversized black panther like a baby
completely unaware of what I'm battling inside.
My chest ached.
She is not a sin.
My actions are.
I grabbed my phone with shaky fingers and dialed Arav.
"Info??"
My voice came out colder than I intended, but I couldn't help it. I needed answers now.
He hesitated before responding,
"Sir... I'm still on the way to Rajasthan. I'll gather everything as soon as I reach, but—"
I didn't let him finish.
"I understand. Just do it fast," I muttered, and cut the call.
He wasn't even there yet.
How the hell would he know anything already?
Hell.
Few hours ago, I was storming around like a devil...
and now look at me
terrified of myself.
My fists clenched so tight my knuckles turned white.
I touched her.
I held her like a woman.
I kissed her chest... while she didn't even know what a bra is.
My stomach twisted painfully.
I took advantage.
I crossed a line she didn't even know existed.
A crime.
That's what it felt like.
And the worst part?
She hugged me.
She clung to me with pure trust...
thinking I'm her safety.
A humorless chuckle escaped me bitter... broken.
What a joke.
I'm the biggest threat she has ever faced.
I ran a frustrated hand through my hair and snatched a cigarette,
sticking it between my lips like it could stop the chaos in my head.
The lighter clicked.
Flame.
Smoke.
Burn.
I inhaled deeply, letting the ash sting my chest.
Every drag tasted like guilt.
I shouldn't want her.
Not like this.
Not when she doesn't even understand desire.
But my heart?
It beats only for her.
My voice came out in a low, pained whisper as I stared at the SKY...
I exhaled another cloud of smoke
hoping it would take the guilt away.
It didn't.