Arnav's POV
my mind was still tangled in the web of texts Khushi and I had exchanged all day. Every buzz of my phone had been a spark, igniting memories of her taste on my tongue, the way her body had trembled under my fingers last night. We'd pushed each other to the edge with words—filthy promises of what we'd do when we finally collided again. But now, as I adjusted my tie in the mirror, preparing for the evening gala at the conference center which was last minute planned by the hotel itself, anticipation twisted into something sharper. This wasn't just any night; it was the hotel celebrating its 100th anniversary, where all the guests in house were invited.
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.
Write a comment ...