Darkness had engulfed the sky, breaking the barrier between day and night. Heavy black clouds loomed across the horizon, hurling furious thunderbolts like some ancient war had reignited in the skies.

Two joints down in an hour, my fingers reeked of weed, and my nerves refused to settle. I could understand that I was growing impatient. The image of Shumi screaming in the night before kept flashing in my mind like a silent horror film. And then there was that—

That thing I'd seen. 

That...

It hadn't just stared at me anymore. Last evening it lunged. But its face—its face—looked like Shreetama di.

What the fuck was that?

I had nearly dialled Shreetama di, thumb hovering over the screen. But what would I have said? That we were right, indeed, there was a presence around Shumi, or perhaps Tuhin was right? That I might be hallucinating? Or that something was crawling into our reality?

On the other hand, hiding Shumi's condition was becoming harder every day. 

We were failing. 

Word had already started to leak, and there were whispers in the corridors of the society. Some thought she was sick. Some nastier ones believed I had impregnated her, and I was keeping her locked away to avoid scandals.

Even Kakali aunty had called Shumi in a panic when the whispers reached her ears. Shumi hadn't picked up. Ritoshree di had to intervene, assuring her it was just a fever. Somehow, they managed to convince her not to cancel her trip midway and return. But it was all on thin ice.

It seemed that between Mou, Kunal, Tuhin, Shreetama di, Ritoshree di, Saikat da and me, we were running a secret service just to keep Shumi's condition hidden. Fortunately, most of the people in our building had left for the vacation week, which made it a little bit easier.

While we had handled the others from neighbouring buildings, that nosy Sunidhi was the biggest problem. I was absolutely sure that it was she who kept fuelling the gossip. Moreover, she was very cunning to keep her name out of all the mess.

And just when I was thinking of a hundred different ways of murdering that pathetic bitch, she stepped right into my path at the entrance of the building.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I had rushed out to get groceries while the others were with Shumi, who would have thought I would bump into the bitch right now.

She smirked, her eyes trailing down my body. "Well, if it isn't the 'society heartthrob'. Stocking up for your girl, are you?"

I frowned. "Excuse me."

Her fingers reached out and tugged at my belt. "What's the rush, Ved?" she whispered, "She won't starve if you're a little late... or is she eating for two now?" Her smile turned nasty.

I slapped her hand away. "Don't touch me."

Sunidhi scoffed, stepping back with mock offence. "Oh, right. You're the protective lover. The misunderstood boy next door. The one who sneaked in and knocked up an innocent girl and is now keeping her locked."

"Watch your mouth," I hissed, jaw clenched.

"You think nobody would know?" she snapped. "Playing the victim, Ved? Hmm?" 

I glared at her, but she ignored me and chuckled.

"Since the day you moved in, you've brought nothing but trouble. This society was peaceful before you. From police to local goons, every time something on the other happens and we all know who is responsible."

My jaw clenched. 

Well, I cannot exactly deny.

She accused referring to those times when I had picked up a fight with the local goon, threatened the area inspector in charge to get him transferred if he didn't lock them up and held a party till 3 am.

I had done a lot more and would never deny the reckless life I used to live.

While that old me knew exactly how to shut her up and she wouldn't have dared to stand before the Vedant Malhotra I used to be, I refused to go back to my old ways. I refused to indulge in petty fights with women like her. 

So I didn't respond and ignored her. Not that she stopped. Her voice followed me even as I stormed back to the apartment, each word pressing like a nail into my already chaotic thoughts. 

She wasn't exactly wrong. I was the chaos in the peace of this society, and to a larger extent in Shumi's life as well. 

I sighed, reaching my door, but my hand froze.

The door was ajar.

Why?

I pushed it open slowly. "Shreetama di?....Kunal?....Mou?"

Silence.

There was an awful silence that made me nervous, and I felt uneasy in my own home. A thunder rumbled as I stepped further in.

I had always lived alone; boarding schools, hostels and apartments; I never liked roommates. Even after horror film marathons, I would sleep alone, and yet I felt a chill run down my spine at the gargling roar of the thunder.

I listened closely for any out-of-place sound, but what surprised me was that the door of my brother's room was half open, although nobody answered. 

My breath hitched as I slowly walked towards the room, pushed the door open and immediately stopped.

Shumi stood on the balcony threshold, soaked in rain. A flimsy red saree clung to her body like a second skin. Her back was bare, and I could swear she wasn't wearing a blouse.

I gulped, blinking a little, unable to exactly accept the fact that Shumi was dressed in a red flimsy saree. In fact, if I could remember clearly, it was the saree I had found in those boxes while cleaning my brother's room. 

This was strange. 

Not only did she refuse to wear any bold colours, but she would blush even at the mention of even a little skin show. That girl wore such a flimsy saree that too, in red? I didn't even know she had taken that out of the box when she herself had put it away.

"Shumi?" I noticed my throat had gone dry.

She turned, slowly, leaning on the doorframe, eyes locked onto mine, and like a frozen water dropped on me, I flinched. 

Her gaze was unreadable. Too steady. Overconfident and calling out.

My eyes ran from her head to toe, which did more damage to me than to her. 

Almost translucent in places, clinging to every curve like it had been draped by someone with trembling fingers, the thin fabric outlined each of her features in a bold visual appeal impossible for me to ignore. 

The pleats rested perfectly at her waist, and every time the breeze slipped through the half-open window, the drape lifted just enough to show the dip of her navel and the smooth line of her stomach that I had often explored with my tongue.

The clear visibility of her long cleavage wasn't helping either. Tiny droplets tracing the slope of her collarbone, disappearing into the deep line of her blouse where her breasts pressed together, fuller and more defined than I remembered. Her hair, damp and slightly tangled, framed her face, making her hauntingly alluring. The red bindi on her forehead was smudged, not by accident, but by intention. 

Further down the saree outlined the shape of her thighs like holding sculpture underneath it, and something inside me tightened so sharply I had to grip the door for balance.

I couldn't surpass the fact that she looked both beautiful and ravishing.

She started walking toward me.

I was confused. What had transpired between us? While I should be worried, I felt drawn towards her, to fuck the shit out of her, as if the crazy encounter last evening was long forgotten as a mere hallucination.

"I told them to go home," she said softly. "I was feeling better. Now there's no one to disturb us." Her eyes were stuck on me, not faltering even for a second.

She came closer, overcoming even the slightest of distances left out of mere decency between us.

She stood on her toes and whispered over my lips, "Don't look at me like that."

My body froze, caught in a limbo between desire and dread.

Was this what I really wanted?

I didn't know that even beauty could be this terrifying. That something so soft, so breathtaking, could also stalk like a predator closing in on its prey. There was no hesitation, no shyness or innocence left in the space between us. The warmth was long gone, replaced by an all-consuming heat.

Oh, it was heat! A dangerous heat. The one that threatened to burn every last of my control into shreds while at the same time crawling up my spine to compel, to force me into surrender.

I gulped. My throat tightened. This wasn't longing. This was hunger that demanded immediate feeding.

And still—I didn't move.
Didn't step away.
Just stood there, letting the want coil through me.

I knew this was wrong.
So wrong.
And yet, God, it felt right.

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