I sat on the edge of my bed in my cozy room, the full-length mirror across from me reflecting my simple sundress and the apron I'd hung up earlier. I'd been practicing recipes all afternoon, dreaming about opening my own little restaurant one day. Cooking made me happy—it was my passion, my future. But Uncle Raj, Dad's older brother, had stopped by unexpectedly, and now he was lounging against my desk, his eyes lingering on me in a way that made my cheeks flush. He was always so... intense, with that smirk and those broad shoulders that filled the doorway.
"So, little niece", he said, his voice low and gravelly, stepping closer.
I have started something I am not even sure anyone would read. Now here we are. Me—still writing. You—still here. I’m not backed by fame or algorithms, just pure passion… and you. So if you’re reading this, thank you. Your support doesn’t just help—it builds this journey. And every share, every comment, every cheer? It’s another “Keep going.” And I will. For you to read. Comment your darkest desires to read in the story.
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