The evening was calm when Siddharth and Ananya reached home with the shopping bags. Her father, Mr. Sharma, was already waiting in the living room. He stood up with a smile as soon as he saw them enter.

“Thank you, Siddharth. You really helped her today,” he said warmly.

Siddharth placed the bags carefully on the floor and gave a small nod. “It was nothing. She chose everything so fast, it hardly felt like a task.”

Ananya shot him a glare, whispering under her breath, “Fast? You kept rejecting my choices again and again.”

Siddharth’s lips curved, just enough to tease her without her father noticing. “Because you needed someone to make sure you didn’t buy the whole mall,” he murmured back.

Before Ananya could retort, her father’s phone rang. He excused himself, waving a hand. “I’ll be just a minute. Siddharth, please stay for coffee before you go.”

Siddharth leaned back on the sofa, loosening his cuffs. “Of course.”

Ananya dragged the bags toward her room, muttering about how annoying Siddharth was. She changed into her usual night clothes—a soft sleeveless top and shorts—and then walked to the kitchen, planning to prepare tea. She opened a cupboard and realized the sugar jar was on the very top shelf, far out of her reach.

She stretched on her toes, tried pulling herself higher, but it was no use. Huffing in irritation, she called out, “Papa! Can you help me for a second?”

A deep voice answered instead, firm and smooth. “Your father is still on a call. Tell me what you need.”

Ananya froze, glancing back. Siddharth stood at the doorway, his tall frame filling the space. His eyes immediately dropped down, catching the sight of her bare legs shining under the kitchen light. A slow, teasing smile spread on his lips.

“Interesting choice of clothes,” he said in a low, amused tone. “Are you always this careless at home… or is this just for me?”

Her face heated. “Don’t start! It’s just my night dress.”

Siddharth stepped inside, his gaze still lingering as if to make her uncomfortable on purpose. “Hmm… short enough to distract anyone who enters this kitchen.”

She turned quickly toward the cupboard. “Stop teasing. I just need the sugar jar, that’s all.”

“Clearly, you can’t reach it,” he murmured, walking closer.

Before she could argue, his hand brushed her waist lightly as he stepped in behind her. With a single movement, he lifted her by the waist as though she weighed nothing. Ananya let out a startled gasp, clutching his shoulder instinctively.

“Careful!” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Relax,” Siddharth said, his tone calm, but there was something dark and teasing in his voice. “I won’t let you fall. Tell me, which jar?”

Her fingers shook slightly as she pointed. “That one… the sugar.”

He held her steady with one hand, his grip firm around her waist, while she reached up and took the jar. When she had it, instead of lowering her immediately, Siddharth’s hold tightened just a little, keeping her close for a few seconds longer. His gaze dropped again, this time deliberately tracing the smooth line of her legs before meeting her eyes.

“You really shouldn’t tempt me like this,” he said in a whisper that sent shivers down her spine.

Her cheeks flushed crimson. “P-put me down.”

He smirked and lowered her slowly, letting her feet touch the ground. But he didn’t step back right away. Their bodies were still close, and Ananya realized she was still holding on to his shoulder. She quickly pulled her hand away and stepped back, clutching the jar like it was a shield.

“You’re too bold,” she whispered, looking away.

Siddharth tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And you like it.”

Before she could reply, her father’s voice came from the living room, calling Siddharth for coffee. He straightened, his expression composed again, and walked out as if nothing had happened.

Ananya stood frozen in the kitchen, her heart beating far too fast. She touched her waist where his hand had been, still feeling the heat of his grip. “He’s impossible,” she whispered to herself, yet a small smile escaped her lips.

That night, long after Siddharth had left, Ananya sat on her bed scrolling through her phone. A message notification popped up.

Siddharth: “Still awake?”

Her eyes widened. She hesitated before replying.
Ananya: “Yes. Why?”

The typing dots appeared immediately.
Siddharth: “Because you looked like you had something to say in the kitchen, but your father interrupted.”

Her heart skipped. She typed quickly.
Ananya: “I had nothing to say.”

Siddharth: “Liar. You’re terrible at hiding things.”

She bit her lip, staring at the screen.
Ananya: “You’re too much. Why do you always tease me?”

Siddharth: “Because I like watching you blush. Especially when you’re in shorts.”

Her breath caught. She quickly sent a reply.
Ananya: “Stop it! Don’t talk like that.”

The answer came instantly.
Siddharth: “Then tomorrow, when I see you, I’ll make you blush even more.”

Ananya’s face turned hot. She locked her phone, pressed it to her chest, and whispered, “What is he doing to me…”

She lay down, pulling the blanket over her, but sleep didn’t come easily. Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel Siddharth’s strong hand on her waist, his voice in her ear, and that smile which made her knees weak.

**************************************