I feel safe when I’m with you… I don’t have bad intentions.”

Hiten’s eyes softened, a small smile appearing. “I’ll be taking that as a compliment,” he added, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

The moment she stepped inside, the world outside—the rain, the slick streets, the muffled city lights—faded into a distant memory. The warmth of the house wrapped around her like a soft embrace. She shivered slightly, but it wasn’t entirely from the chill; there was a strange flutter in her chest she couldn’t name.

Hiten guided her further into the house, careful not to rush her. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said softly. The words were simple, but they carried a weight she hadn’t expected.

Aarya’s eyes scanned the room. Everything was neat, orderly, and quietly lived-in. A faint scent of soap and books lingered in the air. She noticed little details—the small stack of novels on the side table, a half-finished sketchbook tucked in the corner, the way the furniture was arranged with both comfort and precision in mind.

She hesitated, feeling awkward in the oversized night suit, and tugged the fabric nervously. Hiten noticed. Without a word, he offered a warm towel. She accepted, brushing her damp hair back and tucking it behind her ears. The gesture was gentle, careful, protective. She felt herself relaxing, though a small voice inside her still urged caution.

The storm outside had softened into a rhythmic drizzle, the patter against the roof forming a soothing backdrop. Yet inside, the silence was charged, filled with unspoken questions. Why was he helping her? Why had he chosen to care? And, most pressing of all, could she trust him?

Hiten moved to the kitchen, motioning for her to sit at the table. She hesitated, unsure if she should intrude, but curiosity won. The room smelled of simmering vegetables, faintly sweet with spices, and the warmth was comforting in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

“You can have some tea while I finish dinner,” he said, carefully setting a steaming cup in front of her. She wrapped her hands around it, feeling the gentle heat seep into her palms. Her eyes flicked to him, noting the calm, focused way he moved. Even the soft clatter of utensils seemed purposeful, almost meditative.

“Why are you doing this?” she finally asked, her voice quiet.

Hiten paused, meeting her eyes briefly. “I… don’t know. I just felt like I should,” he said simply. There was no hesitation in his voice, no pretense—just a quiet honesty that made her chest tighten.

She sipped her tea, letting the warmth chase away the lingering chill. Thoughts raced in her mind, tangled between caution and curiosity, hesitation and desire. There was something about him—something steady, reliable, yet undeniably mysterious—that drew her in.

Minutes passed. Small glances, subtle gestures, and quiet words slowly filled the room. She noticed how he watched her—not intrusively, but attentively—like he could sense the smallest flicker of doubt, the slightest shift in mood. The tension in her chest eased slightly, replaced by a strange, unfamiliar comfort.

Hiten paused in his movements, turning to glance at her. “You’re safe here,” he said softly. His words were simple, almost casual, but they carried an unspoken weight. Aarya felt her heart skip a beat.

She looked down at her hands, fidgeting slightly, then up at him again. Could she really trust him? Could she let herself feel safe in the presence of someone she barely knew? The storm outside seemed irrelevant now, the real tempest raging quietly inside her.

She felt safer than ever… but something outside the window made her heart skip. Click Next to see what happens next?