Talab - Chapter 28: Chapter 28

Arohi stood up silently... then sat on his lap, straddling him.
John's eyes widened at her sudden move. His hands instinctively wrapped around her waist, gripping her like she might disappear. His breath hitched as he looked into her eyes, questioning her.
"What are you doing, bacha?" he asked, voice low.
Her fingers reached out, slowly unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, the other brushing against his chest, tracing every line of muscle. His body tensed under her touch.
"Don't play with fire, love..." he warned, voice husky, breath uneven. "You might not be ready to handle the burn."
She leaned in closer, her lips grazing his ear.
"But I want to play with fire... my fire."
In one swift motion, John flipped her underneath him, surprising her. She gasped—her shirt had slid halfway off, leaving her bare shoulders exposed to the night air.
"Told you not to tease me," he whispered, voice rough with want.
He lowered his head, his lips finding the delicate curve of her neck. Arohi arched into him as his hands explored her skin like he'd been starved of her. The soft rustle of fabric filled the room as he undressed her slowly, reverently.
"You're mine," he murmured between kisses, eyes wild with emotion. "Only mine."
Arohi couldn't breathe—his touches were fire and worship all at once. She didn't even realize when he lifted her again, carrying her to the bed like something fragile and divine.
Under the silver moonlight, his face hovered above hers—his lips, his jawline, his eyes—all glowing like art. Her fingers trembled as she caressed his cheek.
"You're beautiful," she whispered.
John smiled—slow, aching, and full of something deeper than lust. He leaned down, kissing her softly at first, then deeper... claiming every inch of her mouth as if he could taste her soul.
Their bodies moved in sync—first slow, then desperate, like they were trying to speak all the words they couldn't say.
He held her tightly, whispering into her skin.
"You're not my obsession, Arohi... you're my beginning and my end."
Time blurred. Emotions tangled with touch. And when exhaustion finally claimed her, Arohi curled up against him, her heart full for the first time in weeks.
⸻
The Morning After
John woke up before dawn.
Arohi was fast asleep, her head resting on his bare chest, her arms wrapped around him like he was her home. The soft rise and fall of her breath comforted him—until the guilt crept in.
Her neck bore the soft marks of last night's passion. His own shirt and pants were somewhere on the floor. His breath caught in panic.
Did I force her? Did I lose control? Was she okay?
He gently untangled himself from her embrace, his heart beating wildly.
I can't face her. What if she thinks I crossed a line? What if she regrets it?
With a shaky breath, he grabbed a pen and left a note on the pillow.
"I'm sorry for last night. – John"
He didn't look back as he walked out of the house, carrying his guilt like a storm cloud.
⸻
Arohi's POV
She woke up with a smile for the first time in weeks.
Her body ached, but in the sweetest way. Her lips tingled from his kisses. Her skin still felt warm from his hands.
He finally let me in, she thought. He finally showed me the side of him I always knew existed beneath the anger.
She reached beside her—empty.
Her heart dropped.
Then she saw the sticky note on the pillow.
"I'm sorry for last night."
A tear slipped from her eye as she whispered to herself,
"There's nothing to say sorry for, John Ji... I wanted it too. We both did. And I... I felt loved."
Frantically, she picked up her phone and called him.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
Switched off.
Her heart began to race.
No. Don't do this. Please don't leave...